Time Crossed: A Time Thief Novella (A Penguin Special from Signet)
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Oh my God, what am I sitting in?
I slowly stand up and survey the damage. My palms, as well as my knees, are covered in black goo. And my shoes, my favorite Kate Spades, are scratched and the patent leather is torn off one of the toes. I blow a piece of hair out of my eyes that must have freed itself from my headband and carefully gather my things, using only my fingertips.
I trudge up the endless flight of stairs as my chunky glass necklace flaps against my collarbone. I ring the bell with my pinky finger.
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She looks beautiful as always. An ivory colored sweater hangs off her shoulder, her jeans have a slight tattered look above her black converse sneakers, and her hair is draped over to one side. I have to say I envy her.
It takes me three times longer than her to get ready, and she always looks perfect. Frowning, I try not to cry as I hand her the bag of cupcakes with the box now turned upside down. I take a deep breath and let it out. She knows me; she knows how upset I am about my filthy outfit. She grabs my purse and sets it down next to the clear bag then reaches for my hand. When our palms touch, she yanks hers away and scrutinizes her hand.
We cross through the family room and into the kitchen where she pushes a chair near the sink. Let me just go get something to clean the grease off you. Alone in the room, I look around the kitchen. The twelve-light ultramodern fixture that hangs from the ceiling must be at least eight feet long and lights the area well. And where you would normally find cupboards, there are thick glass shelves filled with cups, plates, and bowls of all different colors, shapes, and sizes—so shabby chic, so Dahlia.
The floor is a mix of black and white swirled together—almost gray, like his eyes. My eyes rest on the counters as I try to distract myself. They are surprisingly clear of clutter. And the jet-black granite with white pearl splashed throughout adds a sparkle of light to what might otherwise appear dull. The high bar, complete with curvy black stools, bridges the kitchen to the living room. Her house is definitely a home. A noise from the stove catches my attention. Suddenly, I smell garlic and hints of basil. I turn to look and see two giant pots bubbling over—one with spaghetti sauce and another thumping from the sound of boiling water.
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I hop up and rush to stir their contents. I grab the pot holder and stir the sauce with the wooden spoon that was resting beside it. I try my best to avoid getting the black oil all over everything. Then I walk back over to the sink and set the pot holder next to it. I pump soap in my hands and try not to laugh at the sight of the grease. Really, how did I not see the giant puddle in the driveway?
Really, nothing to speak of—no scrapes or blood. I remove my jacket gingerly and kick my shoes to the side and sigh. She sets down a pile of fluffy white towels and a few bars of soap near the sink. Its opening freaks me out every time I come over. I call it the infinity staircase and avoid it at all costs. Once he sees me, he freezes. Are you okay? Let me get you something to get that off.
She turns toward me and pulls my headband off my head to smooth the stray pieces back that have come loose from my French braid. She sighs and lets out a small giggle. River has never changed the oil in his car. It smells like oranges. I take the jar and rub some on my knees as Dahlia turns on the water and hands me a towel.
So Trent is not the one joining us for dinner.
She swats his behind. I bop my head up and continue to rub the grease from my knees. This story is getting interesting. River grins and cranes his neck toward her lips. I have to laugh. They both look at me. See All Customer Reviews. Shop Books. Read an excerpt of this book! Add to Wishlist.
USD 1. Sign in to Purchase Instantly. Explore Now. Buy As Gift. Overview In this dramatic new novella from the New York Times bestselling author of Torn and Connected , two people discover that even the truest love has ups and downs… Jagger Kennedy never went looking for fame, he just fell into it. With their return comes the memory of the Empire--and yet all is not well with the Guard itself. Elements within its elite, the Avowed, have set their sights on far greater power.
There are ancient entities who also seek to further their own arcane ends. And what of the swordsman called Traveller who, with his companion Ereko, has gone in search of a confrontation from which none have ever returned? As the Guard prepares to wage war, so Laseen's own generals and mages, the 'Old Hands', grow impatient at what they see as her mismanagement of the Empire.
But could Laseen have outwitted them all? Could she be using the uprisings to draw out and finally eliminate these last irksome survivors from the days of her illustrious predecesor, Kellanved? At a moonlit Indian ruin--where "thieves of time" ravage sacred ground in the name of profit--a noted anthropologist vanishes while on the verge of making a startling, history-altering discovery. At an ancient burial site, amid stolen goods and desecrated bones, two corpses are discovered, shot by bullets fitting the gun of the missing scientist. There are modern mysteries buried in despoiled ancient places.
And as blood flows all too freely, Navajo Tribal Policemen Joe Leaphorn and Jim Chee must plunge into the past to unearth an astonishing truth and a cold-hearted killer.vipauto93.ru/profiles/cellulari/localizzare-cellulare-all-estero.php
Until Proven Guilty J. Beaumont 1 By J. The little girl was a treasure who should have been cherished, not murdered. She was only five-too young to die-and Homicide Detective J. And he is about to find out that he himself is the target of a twisted passion. Once upon a time there was a fairy godmother named Desiderata who had a good heart, a wise head, and poor planning skills—which, unfortunately, left the Princess Emberella in the care of her other not quite so good and wise godmother when death came for Desiderata.
So now it's up to Magrat Garlick, Granny Weatherwax, and Nanny Ogg to hop on broomsticks and make for far-distant Genua to ensure the servant girl doesn't marry the Prince. But the road to Genua is bumpy, and along the way the trio of witches encounters the occasional vampire, werewolf, and falling house well this is a fairy tale, after all. The trouble really begins once these reluctant foster-godmothers arrive in Genua and must outwit their power-hungry counterpart who'll stop at nothing to achieve a proper "happy ending"—even if it means destroying a kingdom.
Witchcraft appears to be involved in the death of an Indian whose body was found in Many Ruins Canyon, and Lieutenant Joe Leaphorn is charged with the task of solving the crime.
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Unlike most teenaged boys, Teppic isn't chasing girls and working at the mall. Instead he's just inherited the throne of the desert kingdom Djelibeybi--a job that's come a bit earlier than he expected a turn of fate his recently departed father wasn't too happy about either. It's bad enough being new on the job, but Teppic hasn't a clue as to what a pharaoh is supposed to do. After all, he's been trained at Ankh-Morpork's famed assassins' school, across the sea from the Kingdom of the Sun.
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First, there's the monumental task of building a suitable resting place for Dad--a pyramid to end all pyramids.