Shadowhunter codex

Shadowhunter’s Codex

 

 

This is Just a sneak peak as to what will come in the Shadowhunter's codex. It will be released October 29.

These two were done by Elisabeth Alba. Two of sixteen drawings that she has in the shadowhunter codex. Tell me what you think in comments.

Newest heavenly fire snippets

Newest heavenly fire snippets

The way Magnus’ breath had sounded, rattling in his chest, before he’d said his father’s name.

*What do you think his dads name will?*

 

“Clary,” Jocelyn said. “I want you to meet Tessa Gray.”

* I was wondering if we were going to see Tessa again*

 

 

“Well, it’s a bit ironic, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

“All that effort to convince you I wasn’t in love with you, and here I am, dying in your arms.”

*this is the new unidentified snippet.*

 

 

"...a rune, hovering like an angel: a shape like two wings joined by a single bar"

*we all knew that their was going to be a new rune.*

 

 

"Oh god," said Magnus, "they're dead. They're all dead!"

*Jennifer posted this image of her computer. Gosh I must know what happened. Comment on who you think is going to die.*

 

Origin!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Daemon will do anything to get Katy back.

After the successful but disastrous raid on Mount Weather, he’s facing the impossible. Katy is gone. Taken. Everything becomes about finding her. Taking out anyone who stands in his way? Done. Burning down the whole world to save her? Gladly. Exposing his alien race to the world? With pleasure.

All Katy can do is survive. 

Surrounded by enemies, the only way she can come out of this is to adapt. After all, there are sides of Daedalus that don’t seem entirely crazy, but the group’s goals are frightening and the truths they speak even more disturbing. Who are the real bad guys? Daedalus? Mankind? Or the Luxen?

Together, they can face anything.  

But the most dangerous foe has been there all along, and when the truths are exposed and the lies come crumbling down, which side will Daemon and Katy be standing on? And will they even be together?

My review

 

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPP!!!!!!!!!!!

 

I can not believe its finally out. If I must say Our waiting was not in vain. In Opal Jennifer decided to leave us with the big disappointment of a major cliff hanger, but she, of course, makes up for it in the action packed romance between hybrids and aliens. Now I don't want to ruin a single little page for you, but I can say this because everyone knows what's going to happen. Damien does get to see Katy now what he goes threw to see her and be with her is absolutely heart breaking. I wish I had a guy like Daemon.

Now I have one huge Gigantic problem with This book. Once again Jenifer left us with a cliffhanger. Now it wasn't as dramatic as the last one, but it was as close as your going to get. If you like the

book to be cleaned sealed then I suggest you wait till the other book comes out.

 

 

Love you all. Make sure t read Origin and comment on what you think. Also if your looking for something new to read checkout the rest of the blog. You can find teasers from all books and if you cant let me know and I'll make sure to get you exactly What your looking for.



The scorch Trails

 

 

The Scorch Trials picks up where The Maze Runner left off. The Gladers have escaped the Maze, but now they face an even more treacherous challenge on the open roads of a devastated planet.
And WICKED has made sure to adjust the variables and stack the odds against them.
Can Thomas survive in such a violent world?

 

My review

 

The Scorch Trials are full of excitement and action. Never in the book is their a dull moment or peace for the main character. The gladers escape from the treacherous Maze only to be thrown into something mush worse. James Dashner is able to put twist and turns in this book to make it seem like its not just about finishing the trials, but betrayal and friendship. However subtle it may be there is also a little bit of romance in it as well.

 

I would give this book three stars. Even though it was good and well written, this book is not for everyone. if you didn't like the maze runner then your not going to like the second book anymore than you did the first one. 

Breaking Nova teasers, blurb,prologue, and release date

Breaking Nova: by Jessica Sorensen

Jessica Sorensen is the author of the Fallen Star series and Ella and Micha series. Braking nova will come out Feb. 4 2014.

 Nova Reed used to have dreams-of becoming a famous drummer, of marrying her true love. But all of that was taken away in an instant. Now she's getting by as best she can, though sometimes that means doing things the old Nova would never do. Things that are slowly eating away at her spirit. Every day blends into the next . . . until she meets Quinton Carter. His intense, honey brown eyes instantly draw her in, and he looks just about as broken as she feels inside.

 Quinton once got a second chance at life-but he doesn't want it. The tattoos on his chest are a constant reminder of what he's done, what he's lost. He's sworn to never allow happiness into his life . . . but then beautiful, sweet Nova makes him smile. He knows he's too damaged to get close to her, yet she's the only one who can make him feel alive again. Quinton will have to decide: does he deserve to start over? Or should he pay for his past forever?

Prologue

Nova

Sometimes I wonder if there are some memories the mind doesn’t want to deal with and that if it really wants to, it can block out the images, shut down, numb the pain connected to what we saw—what we didn’t want to see. If we allow it to, the numbness can drown out everything, even the spark of life inside us. And eventually the person we once were is nothing but a vanishing memory.

I didn’t always use to think this way. I used to have hope. I used to believe in things. Like when my father told me if I wanted something bad enough that I could make it happen.

“No one else in the world can make things happen for you, Nova,” he’d said while we were lying on our backs on the hill in our backyard, staring up at the stars. I was six and happy and a little naïve, eating his words up like handfuls of sugar. “But if you want something bad enough and are willing to work hard at it, then anything’s possible.”

“Anything?” I’d said, turning my head toward him. “Even if I want to be a princess?”

He smiled, looking genuinely happy. “Even a princess.”

I grinned, looking up at the sky, thinking how wonderful it would be to wear a diamond tiara on my head and a sparkly pink dress and matching heels. I would spin around in circles and laugh as my dress spun with me. Never once did I think about what it truly meant to be a princess and how impossible it was for me to actually become one.

“Earth to Nova.” My boyfriend, Landon Evans, waves his hand in front of my face.

I blink my gaze away from the stars and angle my head sideways along the bottom of the grassy hill in his backyard, looking him in the eyes. “What’s up?”

He laughs at me, but his smile looks unnatural, like it doesn’t belong there. But that’s normal for Landon. He’s an artist, and he tells me that in order to portray pain in his portraits he has to carry it within him all the time. “You were totally spacing off on me there.” The front porch light is on, and the fluorescent glow makes his honey-brown eyes look like the charcoal he uses for his sketchings.

I roll on my side and tuck my hands underneath my head, so I can really look at him. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“You have that look on your face, like you’re thinking deep.” He rotates on his hip and props his elbow up on the ground, resting his head against his palm. Wisps of his inky-black hair fall into his eyes. “Want to talk about it?”

I shake my head. “No, I don’t really feel like talking.”

He offers me a trivial but genuine smile, and the sadness in my mind fleetingly dissolves. It’s one of the things that I love about Landon. He’s the only person on this planet who can make me smile—except for my dad, but he’s no longer alive anymore, so smiles are rare in my book.

Landon and I were best friends up until about six months ago, and maybe that’s why he can make me happy. We got to bond on a deeper level and understand each other before all the kissing and hormones came along. I know we’re only eighteen and haven’t even graduated high school yet, but sometimes, when I’m alone in my room, I can picture him and me together years ahead, in love, maybe getting married. It’s surprising because for a long time after my dad died, I couldn’t picture my future—I didn’t want to. But things change. People evolve. Move on. Grow as new people enter their lives.

“I saw the picture you drew for the art project,” I say, brushing some of the hair out of his eyes. “It was hanging up on Mr. Felmon’s wall.”

He frowns, which he always does whenever we’re talking about his art. “Yeah, it didn’t turn out how I planned.”

“It seemed like you were sad when you were drawing it,” I tell him, lowering my hand to my hip. “But all your drawings do.”

Any happiness in his expression withers as he rolls onto his back and pinpoints his attention to the star-cut sky. He’s silent for a while and I turn onto my back, letting him be, knowing that he’s stuck in his own head. Landon is one of the saddest people I’ve met, and it’s part of what drew me to him.

I was thirteen, and he’d just moved in across the street from me. He was sitting against the tree in his front his yard, scribbling in a sketchbook, when I first saw him and decided to go over and introduce myself. It was right after my dad had died, and I’d pretty much kept my distance from people. But with Landon, I don’t know, there was just something about him.

I’d crossed the street, very curious about what he was drawing. When I stopped in front of him, he glanced up at me, and I was taken aback by how much anguish was in his honey-brown eyes—the torture and internal suffering. I’d never seen so much of it in anyone my age before, and even though I didn’t know what was causing it, I guessed we were going to be friends. He looked how I felt inside, like I’d been broken apart and the pieces hadn’t healed correctly. Just like I guessed, we did become best friends—more than best friends, actually. We’re almost inseparable, addicted to each other, and I absolutely hate being away from him because I feel lost and misplaced in the world whenever he’s gone.

“Do you ever get the feeling that we’re all just lost?” Landon utters, jerking me away from my thoughts again. “Just roaming around the earth, waiting around to die.”

I bite on my lip, considering what he said as I find Cassiopeia in the sky. “Is that what you really think?”

“I’m not sure,” he answers, and I turn my head, analyzing his perfect profile. “I sometimes wonder, though, what the point of life is.” He stops, and it feels like he’s waiting for me to say something.

“I’m not sure.” I rack my brain for something else to add. But I can’t think of a single coherent, reasonable response to his dark thoughts on the meaning of life, so I add, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Nova,” he promises without looking at me, then he reaches across the grass and grabs my hand, twining his fingers through mine. “And I mean that, Nova, no matter what. I love you.”

We get lost in the stillness of the night while we watch the stars glimmer and fade. It’s peaceful but unsettling at the same time, because I can’t turn my thoughts off. I worry about him when he gets depressed like this. It’s like he goes into his own little world that’s carved of gloomy thoughts and a blackened future, and I can’t reach him no matter how hard I try.

We lie quietly, watching the stars and holding on to each other. Eventually, I drift to sleep with my face pressed against the cool grass, the spring breeze chilly against my skin, and Landon’s fingers soothingly stroking the inside of my wrist. When I wake up again, all the stars have blended in with the grayness of morning, the moon is tucked away in the glow of daybreak, and the grass is damp with dew. The first thing I notice is that Landon’s hand is missing from mine, and it makes me feel empty, like one of my arms has been detached from my body.

I sit up, rubbing my eyes then stretching my arms above my head as I glance around the backyard, searching for Landon. The only thing I can think of is that he got up to go to the bathroom, because he would never leave me sleeping on the hill alone in his backyard.

I push to my feet and brush the grass off the back of my legs before hiking up the hill toward his two-story house at the top of the backyard. It seems like a really long walk, because I’m tired—it’s too early in the morning to be up. When I reach the back porch, I take my phone from my pocket to text Landon and see what he’s doing. But I notice the back door is cracked, and I find myself walking inside, which is a little out of character for me. It’s not like I’m used to walking into his house without being let in. I always knock, even when he texts me and tells me to come straight up to his room.

But this time, something begs my feet to step over the threshold. It’s cold inside the kitchen, and I wonder how long the back door has been open. Shivering, I wrap my arms around myself and cross the entryway to the kitchen. Landon’s parents are asleep upstairs, so I make sure to walk quietly, heading downstairs to Landon’s room, which is in the basement. The stairs creak underneath my shoes, and I hold my breath the entire way down, not sure what will happen if his parents wake up and catch me sneaking down to his room.

“Landon,” I whisper as I walk toward his bedroom. It’s dark, except for the spark of the sunlight through the windows. “Are you down here?”

Silence is the only answer, and I almost turn around and go back upstairs. But then I hear the lyrics of an unknown song playing softly from somewhere in the house. I head for his bedroom door, and the music gets louder.

“Landon,” I say as I approach his closed door, my nerves bubbling inside me. I don’t know why I feel nervous. Or maybe I do. Maybe I’ve known for a long time, but I never wanted to accept it.

My hand trembles as I turn the knob. When I push the door open, every single word Landon’s ever said to me suddenly makes sense to me. As the powerful lyrics playing from the stereo wrap around me, so does an undying chill. My hand falls lifeless to my side and I stand in the doorway, unblinking. I keep wishing for what I’m seeing to go away, to disappear from my mind, to erase the memories. I wish and wish—will it to happen—telling myself that if I want it badly enough, it’ll happen. I start to count backward, focusing on the pattern and rhythm of the numbers, and after a few minutes, numbness swallows my heart. Just like I wanted, my surroundings fade and I can’t feel anything.

I fall to the floor, hitting it hard, but I can’t feel the pain.…

Quinton

I’m driving way too fast. I know that and I know I should slow down, but everyone’s complaining for me to hurry up and get them home. They’re worried we’re going to miss our curfew. Sometimes I wonder how I get myself into these kinds of messes. It’s not like it’s a big deal, but I’d probably be having a lot more fun if I was wasted with the rest of them, because it’s spring break and I should be having fun. I’m not a fan of being the designated driver, but I usually end up offering to be one, and now I’m stuck driving around a bunch of drunken idiots.

 “Stop smoking in here.” I roll down the window as smoke begins to fill up the car. “My mom will smell it from a mile away, and then she’s not going to let me drive her car anymore.”

 “Oh come on, Quinton,” my girlfriend, Lexi, pouts as she takes a deep drag off her cigarette, then extends her arm out the open window. “We’ll air it out.”

Shaking my head, I reach over with my free hand and snatch the cigarette from her. “No more smoking.” I hold the cigarette out my cracked window until the cherry falls off, then release the rest out into the night. It’s late, the road we’re driving on is windy and curves around a lake, and we haven’t seen a car in ages. It’s good, though, since everyone else in the car is underage and drunk out of their minds.

Lexi sticks out her lip and crosses her arms over her chest, slumping back in her seat. “You’re so boring when you’re sober.”

I press back a grin. We’ve been dating for a couple of years now, and she’s the only girl I’ve ever been with and can ever see myself being with. I know it sounds superlame and cheesy because we’re only eighteen, but I’m seriously going to end up marrying her.

Still pouting, she slides her hand up my thigh until she reaches my cock, then she gives it a good rub. “Does that feel good? Because I’ll keep doing it if you just let me smoke.”

I try not to laugh at her, because she’s wasted and it’ll probably piss her off, but it’s funny how annoyed she’s getting by my soberness. “And you’re feisty and pouty when you’re drunk.” I squirm as she hits the right spot and fight not to shut my eyelids. “But I’m still not going to let you smoke in the car.”

She rolls her eyes, draws her hand away from me, and glances in the backseat, where my cousin Ryder is making out with some guy she met at the party. Their hands are all over each other. I’m not a fan of hanging out with her, but she comes out to Seattle sometimes and stays with my grandma. Lexi and Ryder became best friends during one of her visits when they were about twelve, and they’ve been inseparable ever since, which is pretty much how I met Lexi.

When Lexi looks away, her nose is scrunched. “So gross.”

I decelerate the car for a sharp corner in the road. “Oh, don’t pretend like you don’t wish it was you and me back there.” I wink at her and she rolls her eyes. “You know you do.”

She sighs and lets her arms fall to her lap. “Yeah, right. If we were back there and I was trying to stick my tongue down your throat, you’d totally be like”—she makes air quotes— “‘Lexi, please, there are people in the front seat who can see us.’”

“You’re making me sound like an old man.” I flash a playful grin at her as I downshift the car and the engine roars. The road is getting windier, and I have to slow down.

“You kind of are.”

“Bullshit. I’m fucking fun as hell.”

“No, you’re nice as hell, Quinton Carter. You’re seriously like the nicest guy I know, but the most fun? I’m not sure…” A conniving look crosses her face as she taps her finger against her lip. “How about we find out?” Without taking her eyes off me, she rolls the window down the rest of the way. The wind howls inside and blows her hair into her face.

“What the hell?” Ryder says from the backseat, jerking her lips away from the guy’s, and plucks strands of her hair out of her mouth. “Lexi, roll up the damn window. I’m eating my own hair here.”

“So Mr. Fucking Fun as Hell,” Lexi says, with her eyes on me as she arches her back and moves her head toward the window. “Let’s find out just how fun you are.”

I don’t like where she’s going with this. She’s too drunk, and even sober she’s always been a daredevil, impulsive and a little bit reckless. “Lexi, what are you doing? Get in here. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

A lazy smile spreads across her lips as she sticks her head farther out the window. The pale glow of the moon hits her chest and makes her skin look ghostly against the darkness. “I want to see just how fun you are, Quinton.” She extends her arms above her head as she slides up onto the windowsill. “I want to see how much you love me.”

“Quinton, make her stop,” Ryder says, scooting forward in the seat. “She’s going to hurt herself.”

“Lexi, stop it,” I warn, gripping onto the steering wheel with one hand and reaching for her with my other. “I love you and that’s why I need you to get down. Right now.”

She shakes her head. I can’t see her face or if she’s not holding onto anything. I have no idea what the hell she’s doing or thinking, and I’m pretty sure she doesn’t, either, and it’s fucking terrifying.

“If you’re so fun, then just let me be free,” she calls out. Her dress is blowing up over her legs and her feet are tucked down between the seat and the door.

Ryder lifts her leg to climb over into the front seat, but smacks her head on the roof and falls back. Shaking my head, I gently tap on the brakes as I lean over in the seat to grab Lexi. My fingers snag the bottom of Lexi’s dress and that’s when I hear the scream. Seconds later, the car is spinning out of control, and I don’t know what’s up or what’s down. Shards of glass fly everywhere and cut at my arms and face as I try to hold onto Lexi’s dress. But I feel the fabric leave my fingers as I’m jarred to the side. Everyone is screaming and crying as metal crunches and bends. I see bright lights, feel the warmth of blood as something slashes through my chest.

“Quinton…,” I hear someone whisper, but I can’t see who it is. I try to open my eyes, but it feels like they’re already open, yet all I see is darkness.

But maybe that’s better than seeing what’s actually there.…

The maze runner

The Maze runner by James Dashner.

The first book in the New York Times bestselling Maze Runner series—The Maze Runner is a modern classic, perfect for fans of The Hunger Games and Divergent.

When Thomas wakes up in the lift, the only thing he can remember is his first name. His memory is blank. But he’s not alone. When the lift’s doors open, Thomas finds himself surrounded by kids who welcome him to the Glade—a large, open expanse surrounded by stone walls.

Just like Thomas, the Gladers don’t know why or how they got to the Glade. All they know is that every morning the stone doors to the maze that surrounds them have opened. Every night they’ve closed tight. And every thirty days a new boy has been delivered in the lift.

Thomas was expected. But the next day, a girl is sent up—the first girl to ever arrive in the Glade. And more surprising yet is the message she delivers.

Thomas might be more important than he could ever guess. If only he could unlock the dark secrets buried within his mind.

Shattered Promises teasers by Jessica Sorensen

 And for those of you who've read The Fallen Star, this scene takes place in the Black Dungeon.

**Mature Content Warning** Recommended for 17+**

Luckily, the song switched to a slower, more sensual beat and everyone mellowed to grind against each other. I wasn’t sure what to do or why we were out here, but Alex took the lead. He put his hand on my hip and lured me to him with his eyes on me. He slid his hand slowly up my side, along my ribs, and to my shoulder, where he started to drift downward. His skin was searing hot against my arm and when he arrived at my wrist I practically died from the heat. He gripped my wrist forcefully, pressing his fingers into my skin, then he lifted my arm up and positioned my hand on top of his shoulder.

My body was very much alive and awake and in tune and when he did the same thing with my other arm I couldn’t hold back the moan of pleasure clawing up my throat. I let it out because there was nothing else to do.

The muscles in his jaw twitched as he placed his hands on my hips and enticed me toward him until our bodies were connected. He began swaying us to the music and rubbing against me with each movement.  His green eyes were black below the inadequate lighting and his lips blood red. He inched his mouth toward my ear and breathed against my skin. “The bartender was on to you. I had to find a way to get you out of there.”

“By kissing me?” I asked, breathless.

His fingertips kneaded my hips. “That was to get you to stop choking.” He pulled back a little. “And the dancing is to get you into the crowd and away from wandering eyes. You distract everyone out here. You stand out way too much.”

I glanced at the blond girl with fangs and she was nipping at pointy-eared guys’ neck. He let out a groan similar to the one I’d let out just seconds ago.  “I think I blend in pretty well,” I said.

His brow teased upward. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” I slipped my hands farther up his shoulders and down to his back. When my palms were covering his shoulder blades, I dug my nails in and pulled him closer. “In fact, I think I have this whole angel thing down pretty well.”

He shook his head, grinning haughtily. “You’d be screwed if I wasn’t here to guide you through.”

“If you weren’t here than I wouldn’t be here.” My head was getting hazy and uncensored words were slipping out of my mouth.

He frowned. “I know that.”

He grew quiet and took a step back to add room between us. His attention left me as his eyes drifted to the stairway. It bugged me, because I wanted it on me. I wanted him to look at me. Touch me. Be only about me. I was becoming very needy and the feeling consumed me.

I hooked a finger underneath his chin and forced him to look at me. “I thought you brought me out here to dance?”

His eyebrows dipped together. “No, I brought you out here to keep you hidden and to keep an eye on the staircase.”

I shook my head and scratched him with my nail as I drew my hand away. “I want to dance, just like everyone else.”

His eyes went squinty as he analyzed my facial features and eyes. “Are you drunk?”

I shook my head with sureness even though I had no idea what being drunk felt like. “No, I’m perfectly sober.”

“Good, because you only had one shot.”

“Obviously.”

He shook his head and I clamped down on his shoulders and forced him to diminish the space he’d put between us.  He was shocked, his eyes wide and his lips parted. Without another thought, I bent my head forward and collided our lips. The music was loud and drenched my body in lyrics as I basked in the taste of him. My head spun with vapor as I sucked his lip into my mouth. He groaned, loudly, and I bit down on his lip and let my hands trail down his back with my nails aiming downward so I was gently scratching at his skin.

“Gemma,” he murmured as his hand moved from my hip to my back. Then crept downward and he cupped my ass and crushed my body against his. I was drowning in blackness and he was my air. I sealed our lips together and his tongue willingly slipping into mine. I felt his breath enter my mouth and the compulsion for more took me over. My hands swiftly glided up his back and I fastened my arms around his neck. I tasted him thoroughly as I stood on my tiptoes and climbed on top of him.  His breath hitched in his throat as I hooked my legs around his midsection. I was in a dress and my legs were apart, allowing his hardness to press against me. It was stimulating and made my body crave for more, so I clung onto him and writhed my hips up and down, rubbing up against him.

He groaned a deep throaty groan and reciprocated by pushing his body closer to mine and I felt his hand slip between my legs. His eyes were shut but mine refused to close. I could see everything. Feel everything. I was high. I was centered. I was in control.

People were dancing quickly, like we were in a movie and it was stuck I fast forward—none of it could be real. Alex was kissing me, feeling me, touching me, making me feel like I’d been starved. My arms began to tremble and when I glanced down them, my skin was covered in black veins like tar had replaced my blood.  The veins where crawling across my skin and I started to scream. I was falling. Floating. What was I doing?

Alex jerked back and his lips were moving. But I couldn’t hear what he was saying. I unhitched my jaw to speak, but my voice was noiseless. My eyes rolled into the back of my head and my limbs went limp. I began to sink to the ground and I wasn’t sure how far down it was before I’d hit.

Or if I’d ever hit anything.

Maybe I’d just fall, and fall, and fall.

Go to my teasers page to get more.

Fractured Souls(Shattered promises,#2)teaser

Here is a big teaser from fractured souls. You can only think Jessica Sorensen forthis wonderful teaser and amazing book. Enjoy! **Warning mature content** His lips smash together as he deliberates something. Then he steps forward, toward me, taking me off guard as he lines his body with mine and I have no choice but to back up against the door. Fireworks of heat erupt through my body as he pins my shoulders between his arms, his hands resting beside my head. “Gemma, I don’t want to fight with you,” he says. “I didn’t… I didn’t work to save you only so we could sit here and argue with each other.” His sincerity perplexes me because he’s not much of a sincere type of guy. My eyes drift to his head at the dissolving black spot, the brand of his supposed good deed. “Did it hurt?” I ask. “When it bounced back on you?” He rolls his tongue in his mouth, looking like he’s trying not to laugh. “Not too bad, but I’m good at handling pain.” “What about the non-pain part of it?” With each breath I take, my chest crushes against his. He shakes his head and his forehead brushes against mine. We’re that close, almost pressing against each other, but there’s still a sliver of air between us, a boundary we need at the moment. “There was no non-pain part of it,” he explains. “It didn’t do anything but give me a really, really bad fu**ing headache.” I hate this; this drive toward him. The invisible pull that I still don’t understand. The overwhelming need to touch him, rip his clothes off, bite his lip, scratch his skin, feel his rock-hard body. My fingertips dare to go to the place my mind is heading, drifting to the top of his jeans, then skimming underneath the fabric. I feel him tense and I tense too. I’m about to go there and what really surprises me is how bad I want to do it, want to touch him. I can tell he wants to touch me too, his lips dipping closer to mine as we breathe frantically together. My back arches forward and my chest presses against his, my body and mind wanting more—needing more. I feel starved from something, but I’m having a hard time placing what. “Jesus… Gemma...”He lets out a throaty groan and his eyes start to shut as my hand travels lower. My other hand wanders up the front of him, resting on the top of his heart, crushed between our bodies. I can feel it pounding in his chest, racing almost as fast as mine. Our lips brush, the connection sparking, and he lets out another groan, this time louder. Suddenly, I remember that there’s a six-foot four, blue-eyed, blond haired, sexy vampire hiding under my bed. Sh**. I lean back, pulling my hands out of the top of his jeans. “Where’s Aislin and Laylen?” I ask, breathless. He blinks and the emotion drains from his expression. Holding my gaze, he pushes back from the door. “Downstairs I think.” And just like that the tension and desire melt into a puddle below our feet. *** A teaser from Laylen’s P.O.V.  I let out a sigh, conflicted, and deep down knowing I should keep my mouth shut, but ever since the biting incident, there’s been this overwhelming need to make her happy. “I could put you in a temporary state of euphoria.” “Isn’t that the same as happiness?” she asks warily, crossing her legs in front of her. I shrug and sweep my hair out of my eyes. “It all kind of depends on how you look at it. Euphoria is a form of happiness, but it’s also a state of perfection, where you’re going to think everything is perfect and blissful, which doesn’t make it as real as happiness, but I’m guessing it’s easier to achieve.” Her eyes scroll over my face as she bites on her bottom lip, looking hesitant. “Never mind,” I say, trying to hide my disappointment. It’s good she’s reluctant, because I shouldn’t be doing any of this. I should be keeping my distance from her.  “It was just a random thought. We can do something else.” Shaking her head, she kneels up on the bed in front of me, her reluctance shifting to curiosity. “No, I want to do it.” I tell my lips to say no, but instead I nod. Then I’m cupping her cheeks, knowing it’s wrong, putting emotions like this inside her, but a part of me wonders if in the state of perfection, she’ll think I’m perfect and maybe I can be blissfully happy with her, because it’s been so long I can’t even remember what happiness feels like anymore. Fractured Souls(by Jessica Sorensen) **Mature Content Warning** 17+ for language and sexual content. Also, if your a die hard Alex fan, you might want to stay away from this one too ;) You don’t have to do it,” I whisper at the sight of the pain in his eyes. “If you don’t want to.” He doesn’t say anything as he shifts his body forward in his seat, bending his back inward, moving closer to me. My chest heaves ravenously as anticipation and fear collide inside me and I turn inward to bring myself closer to him. He maintains my gaze as he cups his hand on the bottom of my neck, softly, yet at the same time with purpose. I wonder if he can feel my rapid pulse. If he can smell the scent of my blood racing through my body. What he’s thinking. I wonder a lot of things, until he leans in so close I can feel the heat of his breath caressing my skin, then all thoughts are lost as a silence blankets my body. “Just breathe and try to relax,” he whispers, the pupils in his eyes expanding and taking over all of the blue in his eyes. His lips part, his breathing sharpens, and his pointed fangs descend. My mind tells me that I should be afraid, but my body won’t have any part of it, the prickle on the back of my neck stabbing wildly, releasing an abundance of emotions. I lean into his touch, his hand tightens around the bottom of my neck, and my knees press into his. I know Draven is watching us, like a weirdo, but I block him out, and focus on my breathing. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Laylen’s head slants to the side, so he’s moving in toward my neck at an angle. When he’s only inches away, his tongue slips out and slides across his lips, moistening them and skimming along the tips of his fangs. I feel a tremor in his fingertips and I reach forward and grasp onto his legs. I hold my breath as his lips graze my neckline and then squeeze my eyes shut as his fangs pierce my vein.It’s far more intense than just the scrape. Blindingly intense. Body-altering intense. I fall so fast into the dark I can’t even remember what the light looks like. I hear myself groan, but it barely sounds like me, and an invisible connection seals the inside of y body and guides me forward, forcing me to arch my back and press my chest against his. Laylen’s fingertips stab into my neck and I can feel the skin bruising, but the pain only enhances the experience as he feeds on my blood, sucking it out of me and putting it inside him. My hands clamp down on his legs as I whimper, my body going limp as all the energy is drained out of me. Laylen pauses, the tug from him sucking momentarily ceasing. He groans and I think he’s going to stop, even though my mind is screaming at him to continue. But then he bites down harder and suddenly I’m being laid back toward the table. The edge of it cuts into the center of my back and I cry out as he slides me up and lies me down on the table, lining his body with mine as he sucks on my neck, spilling blood all over my skin and clothes. My hands wind around his back and I stab my nails into his shoulder blades, grasping onto him be-cause I can barely see anything anymore beside a red. Blood red. I can smell it, taste it myself, and it’s driving me crazy. It feels like I need something more, like my body is being starved. “Laylen,” I manage to choke out, my head drifting to the side as my legs fall open. His body responds, curving inward and rubbing up against me. His fangs sink deeper, plunging into the arch of my neck. Then suddenly he’s pulling away and I think it’s over as he wipes the blood off his face with his hand and licks it off his lips with his tongue. I don’t want him to be done. I want more—need it. I’m not sure where the sensation is stemming from, what drives it, but regardless I fasten my legs around his waist and cross my ankles tightly around him.