Stephenie Meyer – Eclipse
Eclipse is the third novel in the Twilight Saga by Stephenie Meyer. It continues the story of 18-year-old Bella Swan and her vampire love, Edward Cullen. Eclipse is preceded by New Moon and followed by Breaking Dawn. The book was released on August 7, 2007 with an initial print run of one million copies, and sold more than 150,000 copies in the first 24 hours alone.
Eclipse was the fourth bestselling book of 2008, only behind Twilight, New Moon, and Breaking Dawn, and was also ranked #1 on Publishers Weekly’s list of “Bestselling Hardcover Backlist Children’s Books” in 2008 with over 4.5 million copies sold. [Source]
Some lines from chapter one:
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 I’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, making it downstairs in the nick of
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.
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