Author Stephenie Meyer enters a third book into her saga about vampire love, which has been compared the new "Harry Potter" series.
"Eclipse" focuses on Seattle as it is being ravaged by a string of mysterious killings. A vampire continues its quest for revenge and the lead character, Bella, sees she is in danger, once again.
Soon, Bella is forced to choose between two men. Either her love for Edward or her friendship with Jacob will have to give. She knows her decision has the power to ignite the struggle between vampire and werewolf.
I don't know why you're making Charlie carry notes to Billy like we're in second grade?If I wanted to talk to you I would answer the
You made the choice here, okay? You can't have it both ways when
What part of 'mortal enemies' is too complicated for you to
Look, I know I'm being a jerk, but there's just no way around
We can't be friends when you're spending all your time with a bunch of
It just makes it worse when I think about you too much, so don't write anymore
Yeah, I miss you, too. A lot. Doesn't change anything. Sorry.
I ran my fingers across the page, feeling the dents where he had pressed the pen to the paper so hard that it had nearly broken through. I could picture him writing this?scrawling the angry letters in his rough handwriting, slashing through line after line when the words came out wrong, maybe even snapping the pen in his too-big hand; that would explain the ink splatters. I could imagine the frustration pulling his black eyebrows together and crumpling his forehead. If it'd been there, I might have laughed. Don't give yourself a brain hemorrhage, Jacob, I would have told him. Just spit it out.
Laughing was the last thing I felt like doing now as I reread the words I'd already memorized. His answer to my pleading note?passed from Charlie to Billy to him, just like second grade, as he'd pointed out?was no surprise. I'd known the essence of what it would say before I'd opened it.
What was surprising was how much each crossed-out line wounded me?as if the points of the letters had cutting edges. More than that, behind each angry beginning lurked a vast pool of hurt; Jacob's pain cut me deeper than my own.
While I was pondering this, I caught the unmistakable scent of a smoking burner rising from the kitchen. In another house, the fact that someone besides myself was cooking might not be a cause for panicking.
I shoved the wrinkled paper into my back pocket and ran. I made it downstairs in the nick of time.
The jar of spaghetti sauce Charlie'd stuck in the microwave was only on its first revolution when I yanked the door open and pulled it out. "What did I do wrong?" Charlie demanded. "You're supposed to take the lid off first, Dad. Metal's bad for microwaves." I swiftly removed the lid as I spoke, poured half the sauce into a bowl, and then put the bowl inside the microwave and the jar back in the fridge; I fixed the time and pressed start.
Charlie watched my adjustments with pursed lips. "Did I get the noodle's right?" I looked in the pan on the stove?the source of the smell that had alerted me. "Stirring helps," I said mildly. I found a spoon and tried to de-clump the mushy hunk that was scalded at the bottom.
"So what's all this about?" I asked him.
He folded his arms across his chest and glared out the back windows into the sheeting rain. "Don't know what you're talking about," he grumbled.