
Betrayed
P.C. Cast & Kristin Cast
YA fiction; fantasy
310 pages

Betrayed, the second installment in the bestselling House of Night series, is dark and sexy, and as thrilling as it is utterly shocking.
Fledgling vampyre Zoey Redbird has managed to settle in at the House of Night. She’s come to terms with the vast powers the vampyre goddess, Nyx, has given her, and is getting a handle on being the new Leader of the Dark Daughters, the school’s most elite group. Best of all, Zoey’s made some new friends and she finally feels like she belongs--like she really fits in. She actually has a boyfriend…or two. And despite the best efforts of her mother and step-loser John to humiliate her publically during parent visitation, she’s earned the respect of her professors and High Priestess, Neferet.
Then the unthinkable happens: human teenagers are being killed, and all the evidence points to the House of Night, straining human-vamp tensions in Tulsa to a breaking point. While danger stalks the humans from Zoey’s old life, she finds herself drawn into an intoxicating forbidden flirtation that threatens to distract her from the growing crisis. Then, when she needs her new friends the most, death strikes the House of Night. Too late, Zoey begins to realize that the very powers that make her so unique might also threaten those she loves, and she must find the courage to face a betrayal that could break her heart, her soul, and jeopardize the very fabric of her world.
I am officially addicted to this series! It is a different take on vampires and I really am enjoying it! I actually love that it takes place in a school setting and the twist at the end of the book makes me excited to read the rest of the books in this series! I can't wait to see what others think of this series so far.
Books read this year: 48/50.
"Script"
By D. A. Stafford
Did you have to touch?
To scrape into the central pain with copperplate?
Can't it be a just piece of gratitude reciprocated?
(do you remember the scene?
a nearly empty lake, and the black swans floating
far upstream, away from us?
I'm deigning to telephone, to wake up the
neighborhood dogs: won't you please
remind me why I still wish to be young?)
Part of the day has escaped behind the wounded sky:
Now it's us, a frozen landscape—you knew my name
Meant Judged, but I feel weak without your execution.
(do you recall the missives of many formats?
the undulating earth underneath, which tore down
walls as well as clothes? you said, "it happened, it happens to be [trailed off]"
now, we're bridges foiled of conflagration; finding
we're made of ironwood: strong, dense, and refusing to float
upstream)
Did I have to look?
To see you're there (by yourself)?—to write my name in fiction
And pass it off as a tale of rendezvous?
(do you still consider our black & whites?
does the contrast of flesh once captured continue to send chills down
to where my wanton kisses often ambled?
or, has the photos been exposed, simply faded away to cheap
obscurity?—whatever which, I still want to change
from waste land secrets to an endgame
that never navigates from your zones)
Part of the night is blooming back into fire:
Still, to us, it is a landscape froze—memories that won't let go and grow.
Another fallen scene, cracking knees that scream: rendezvous, won't you please?
By D. A. Stafford
Did you have to touch?
To scrape into the central pain with copperplate?
Can't it be a just piece of gratitude reciprocated?
(do you remember the scene?
a nearly empty lake, and the black swans floating
far upstream, away from us?
I'm deigning to telephone, to wake up the
neighborhood dogs: won't you please
remind me why I still wish to be young?)
Part of the day has escaped behind the wounded sky:
Now it's us, a frozen landscape—you knew my name
Meant Judged, but I feel weak without your execution.
(do you recall the missives of many formats?
the undulating earth underneath, which tore down
walls as well as clothes? you said, "it happened, it happens to be [trailed off]"
now, we're bridges foiled of conflagration; finding
we're made of ironwood: strong, dense, and refusing to float
upstream)
Did I have to look?
To see you're there (by yourself)?—to write my name in fiction
And pass it off as a tale of rendezvous?
(do you still consider our black & whites?
does the contrast of flesh once captured continue to send chills down
to where my wanton kisses often ambled?
or, has the photos been exposed, simply faded away to cheap
obscurity?—whatever which, I still want to change
from waste land secrets to an endgame
that never navigates from your zones)
Part of the night is blooming back into fire:
Still, to us, it is a landscape froze—memories that won't let go and grow.
Another fallen scene, cracking knees that scream: rendezvous, won't you please?
- Mood:
relaxed - Music:The xx - Crystalised | Powered by Last.fm
When granddaughter, Jada, was born with leukemia, a donor-match was located and Jada made a miraculous recovery. In honor of her grandaughter's health, Jeanna has decided to walk across the country (in the dead of winter) to raise awareness and build support for the bone marrow registry (all that's required is a cheek swab). Follow Jeanna's remarkable journey as she travels the United States by foot.
and tilted dying wish colored me glory
say this can't be it — so, we've gone foolish, again
taste it up and down a powdery "let me go"
know me through touched-and-glow stars that melt
missing a light — underneath crawling forces
spinning worlds out of breadth
hours away the peek-a-boo of light waves breaking "I…"
don't know any better whisper that dreams
taste like this — hours away a lonely drive tonight
we could drink, savor all my taste as we fall
slicing razor flashes of light the silver tongue drooling
uselessly "underneath your flash of fleshy escapes
it is stars that tends to fall, crash, burn, and melt me
away" we go — bitter melon peels, the strong acrid score
of knowing I am wrong that I was wrong to leave
knew love far better than I ever could
Everything Happens at Once
By D. A. Stafford
say this can't be it — so, we've gone foolish, again
taste it up and down a powdery "let me go"
know me through touched-and-glow stars that melt
missing a light — underneath crawling forces
spinning worlds out of breadth
hours away the peek-a-boo of light waves breaking "I…"
don't know any better whisper that dreams
taste like this — hours away a lonely drive tonight
we could drink, savor all my taste as we fall
slicing razor flashes of light the silver tongue drooling
uselessly "underneath your flash of fleshy escapes
it is stars that tends to fall, crash, burn, and melt me
away" we go — bitter melon peels, the strong acrid score
of knowing I am wrong that I was wrong to leave
YOU
clinging to arms you did not know to bandits thatknew love far better than I ever could
Everything Happens at Once
By D. A. Stafford
"Is it you or is it me?"
By D. A. Stafford
We sow and stitch the white fabrics
Making up flags knowing they shall have applications of surrender
When hope eventually wanes.
Another lies next to me, a swelling snore, lightly sleeping:
Like the sea, there's always one there receding and fumbling back
For a wet return.
Another laugh, and another crying; receding backwards
And sighting me from afar, looking small, harmless: almost lovable.
Like the sea
Coming back for a wet return.
By D. A. Stafford
We sow and stitch the white fabrics
Making up flags knowing they shall have applications of surrender
When hope eventually wanes.
Another lies next to me, a swelling snore, lightly sleeping:
Like the sea, there's always one there receding and fumbling back
For a wet return.
Another laugh, and another crying; receding backwards
And sighting me from afar, looking small, harmless: almost lovable.
Like the sea
Coming back for a wet return.
Holidays provide a built-in excuse for indulgent entertaining. This all-purpose foodie community covers everything from homemade hangover cures to dinner party menus. Need quick advice? Get five-minute snack suggestions, low-fat ingredient substitutes, and even measurement conversions. Delicious recipes garnished with humorous advice. Yum.
Always on the lookout for compelling images, we were delighted to discover this flourishing community of artists who share a love of nature. Honoring the subject with photographs, paintings, sketches, prose, poetry, and other creative works, you'll be simultaneously riveted to your monitor and inspired to run helter skelter towards the nearest wooded dale.
A story of Russians set in Europe, this novel touched upon political themes and theories, most of which, I admit, were lost on me. Still, the writing was clear and the descriptions compelling. Having no first-hand knowledge of parks or hotels or train stations in the region, I felt comfortable delving into the scenery as set by Turgenev. The love story is quite predictable, but no less, or only slightly less, enjoyable because of it. The characters are simple and somewhat mysterious. I would have preferred to have been given a more concrete insight into the inner workings of quite a few of them. Still, this novel holds up well, and is an interesting study of love and passion. It stood to reaffirm notions I already held, however, rather than forge any new ground. Having not read Dostoevsky yet, I cannot comment on any philosophical rift that occurred with this book as its catalyst. As far as Russian literature goes, I truly enjoy Turgenev, although he still hasn’t dazzled me in comparison to the stark simplicity of, say, Bunin.
xposted to bookshare
xposted to bookshare

The Man Who Invented Christmas
Les Standiford
Nonfiction; biography; holiday
226 pages

As uplifting as the tale of Scrooge itself, this is the story of how one writer and one book revived the signal holiday of the Western world.
Just before Christmas in 1843, a debt-ridden and dispirited Charles Dickens wrote a small book he hoped would keep his creditors at bay. His publisher turned it down, so Dickens used what little money he had to put out A Christmas Carol himself. He worried it might be the end of his career as a novelist.
The book immediately caused a sensation. And it breathed new life into a holiday that had fallen into disfavor, undermined by lingering Puritanism and the cold modernity of the Industrial Revolution. It was a harsh and dreary age, in desperate need of spiritual renewal, ready to embrace a book that ended with blessings for one and all.
With warmth, wit, and an infusion of Christmas cheer, Les Standiford whisks us back to Victorian England, its most beloved storyteller, and the birth of the Christmas we know best. The Man Who Invented Christmas is a rich and satisfying read for Scrooges and sentimentalists alike.
Wow, this was such an interesting look at a wonderful author's life. Charles Dickens didn't create Christmas, but he did reinvent it, as Standiford stated. Every year my family read A Christmas Carol, and now every year, I read it before Christmas. I have always loved the story, but now I know the meaning behind the words. Reading such a wonderful biography of Dickens has made me want to read more biographies of famous authors. I am open to any suggestions that my fellow LJers would love to offer. In all, if you are a fan of Christmas, Charles Dickens, and great biographies, then I highly recommend this book!
Books read this year: 47/50.
Want to embrace your wanderlust on the cheap? If you're tall on adventurous spirit, but short on funds, this community can help you plan a trip to anywhere. Offering plentiful tips on how to travel light, you can post about bargain hotels and hostels if you're into urban exploration or discuss camping gear and mosquito netting for the great outdoors. Hitch your backpack, pitch your tent, and carpe diem!
**FINAL EDIT Thu Dec 10 02:15:47 UTC 2009**
So there is the final update... Over the past day we have processed around 11 million jobs out of the 12 million that were in queue at that time. Please bear in mind that over this past day, more jobs for notifications are also created. So while the queue has been dropping, we are still not fully caught up at this point, due to backlog and new jobs. We have roughly 3 million jobs still pending that involve the notification system in some manner. We had hoped we could have fully cleared the queue in a day, but unfortunately we can't clear it too quickly, since we need the rest of the site to operate normally. From our current perspective on the amount of jobs that are left in queue, and how many it has processed thus far, we believe it will take around another 8 - 12 hours to process everything.
And finally some answers to some questions:
( Read More and Get Some Answers... )
So there is the final update... Over the past day we have processed around 11 million jobs out of the 12 million that were in queue at that time. Please bear in mind that over this past day, more jobs for notifications are also created. So while the queue has been dropping, we are still not fully caught up at this point, due to backlog and new jobs. We have roughly 3 million jobs still pending that involve the notification system in some manner. We had hoped we could have fully cleared the queue in a day, but unfortunately we can't clear it too quickly, since we need the rest of the site to operate normally. From our current perspective on the amount of jobs that are left in queue, and how many it has processed thus far, we believe it will take around another 8 - 12 hours to process everything.
And finally some answers to some questions:
( Read More and Get Some Answers... )
- Whereabouts:Under a Rock
- Mood:
grumpy
While some of us long to escape the cold, dark stretch of winter for hot tropical beaches, for others, there's nothing quite like whoooooshing down those shimmering sugar alps. If you're fond of freestyle skiing, get ready to slide down the slippery slopes in good company. This passionate, international community shares travel/gear tips, anecdotes, photos, and videos for those who can't get enough of the sweet stuff.
Need some extra twinkle to decorate your place? Check out these dazzling holiday-themed icons. If you're an artist, you can post your own creations, provided you abide by the simple rules (which is to say, all cheer and no politicking). Be sure to comment and give credit if you wish to borrow a little spirit (no direct links, please). If you're feeling a touch of humbug this season, this is an instant shot of festivity.
