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Enjoy this chapter sampler of Passion, the third. Download Teardrop written by Lauren Kate and has been published by Delacorte Press this book supported file pdf, txt, epub, kindle and other format this book has been release on with Young Adult Fiction categories. The first in a new series by Lauren Kate, the 1 New York Times bestselling author of the Fallen series, Teardrop is an epic saga of heart-stopping romance, devastating secrets, and dark magic a world where everything you love can be washed away.
Welcome to our site, dear reader! I enjoyed Teardrop so I continued on with Waterfall but the whole time I just wanted it to end. Only one thing is certain: everything she loves can be washed away. Cast, Maggie Stiefvater, and Veronica Rossi. Eureka is the only one who can stop him, but first she must learn how to fight. She travels across the ocean with Cat, her family, and Ander, the gorgeous and mysterious Seedbearer who promises to help her find Solon, an enigmatic lost Seedbearer who knows how to defeat Atlas.
Once on land, Eureka is taunted by gossipwitches, a group of displaced Atlantean sorceresses, and ambushed by locals struggling to survive amid the destruction her tears have wrought. Trying to make sense of the dark world her sorrow has created, Eureka receives startling insight from an enchanted pond. In Waterfall, Eureka has the chance to save the world. The sky is dark with wings. And time is running out for Luce and Daniel.
In order to stop Lucifer from erasing the past, they must find the place where the Fall began. Only Luce can break the curse, and it is her choice alone that will decide all of their fates. High school can be hell.
Cam made a bet with Lucifer: he has fifteen days to convince the only girl who really matters to him to love him again. If he succeeds, Lilith will be allowed back into the world, and they can live their lives together. But if he fails. The long-awaited new novel in the global bestselling Fallen series. Weirdly familiar. The moment Luce looks at Daniel she knows she has never felt like this before. Except she can't shake the feeling that she has. Everyone has their own love story.
And in a twist of fate, four extraordinary love stories combine over the course of a romantic Valentine's Day in medieval England. Eureka tidak bisa bangkit dari kepedihan karena kepergian ibunya. Coach Spence triple whistled back. Eureka sloshed through mud.
Halfway across the field, something shimmered in the corner of her eye. She turned to see a boy standing there alone, gazing up into the torrent. It was Ander. Rain cascaded around him, pummeling the mud at his feet. But his hair, his clothes, his hands, his face were as dry as they had been when he stood on the dirt road and reached out to catch her tear. Truck tires on the main road behind their neighborhood hissed against wet pavement.
The air was dank and briny from the salt plug south of Lafayette where the Tabasco plant got its seasoning. From her doorstep, Eureka waved to Cat, who responded with two toots on the horn. Eureka turned her key in the bronze lock and shoved the door, which always stuck when it stormed.
It was easier to open from the inside, where you could rattle the handle a certain way. From the outside you had to push like a linebacker. As soon as she was inside, she kicked off her soggy running shoes and socks, noticing that the rest of her family had had the same idea.
Their tiny socks were balled up like stamped-on roses. Raincoats dripped from their wooden pegs along the wall. She sensed the glow of the TV in the den, its volume low. His popcorn exploded with truffle oil and shaved Parmesan, or chopped pretzels and chewy flecks of caramel. Dad communicated through food better than through words. Creating something majestic in the kitchen was his way of showing love.
She found him and the twins nestled in their usual spots on the enormous suede couch. Dad, stripped to dry clothes—gray boxers and white T-shirt—was asleep on the long end of the L-shaped couch. His hands were clasped over his chest and his bare feet were turned out, pointed up like shovels. A soft buzz purred from his nose. The lights were off, and the storm outside made everything darker than usual, but a fading, crackling fire kept the room warm. An old Price Is Right played on the Game Show Network— certainly not one of the three half-hour programs endorsed by the parenting magazines Rhoda subscribed to—but none of them would tell.
Claire sat next to her dad, a triangle of stubby legs in the corner of the couch, knees splayed out from her orange jumper, fingers and lips golden from the curry. She looked like a piece of candy corn, a shock of white-blond hair piled on top of her head with a yellow barrette.
She was four years old and an excellent sport about TV watching but nothing else. On the near side of the couch was William, his feet hovering a foot above the floor. His dark brown hair needed cutting.
He kept blowing puffs of air out the side of his mouth to keep his hair out of his eyes. Other than that, he sat still, his hands folded in a neat cup on his lap.
He was nine minutes older than Claire, careful and diplomatic, always occupying as little space as possible. She picked her brother up and twirled him around, holding the still-damp back of his head in her hand. One might think Eureka would resent these kids for being the reason Dad was married to Rhoda. They were born on the first day of spring when she was thirteen years old.
Sure, they were annoying, but when Eureka was down the foxhole of her depression, the twins managed to remind her that she was good for something. He shook out his fur, flinging muddy water and leaves across the kitchen walls. Eureka looked at him. She was conscious of it now. He reached for the bowl of popcorn, handed it to her as if it were a greeting, as if it were a hug.
Most days Dad worked ten-hour shifts at the restaurant, starting at six in the morning. I tried you soon as I got off work. Just a scratch. She had two missed calls from Dad, one from Brooks, and five from Rhoda. She was as tired as if she had run the race this afternoon. She knew she had to broach the subject, but she had to handle it just right. Dad followed her into the foyer.
His name was Trenton Michel Boudreaux the Third. He was tall, with wiry, dark blond hair and a smile that could charm a copperhead. Maybe Dad was trying to be blind to it—he always closed his eyes when he laughed off their advances.
It was another betrayal; everything with Dad was, now. How could he have married that woman? But Eureka also understood: Rhoda was the opposite of Diana. She was stable, grounded, not going anywhere. Diana had loved him but not needed him. Rhoda needed him so much maybe it became a kind of love. Dad seemed lighter with Rhoda than he had without her. Not in this Rhodeo. It was a stress killer, and he knew she could make them sail like birds between her hands.
The deck was flexible from years of use and warm from his shuffling. She calmed the flying cards. This boy ran into me at a stop sign. She swallowed. There was no way he was going to take care of her car. Dad ground his teeth the way he did when he was trying to control his temper. Her college applications were waiting on her desk. Even though Eureka had decided she wanted to take next year off, Rhoda insisted she apply to UL, where she could get financial aid as a faculty family member.
All Eureka had to do was sign the printed-out last page, which had been glaring at her for weeks. She could barely face her own reflection in the mirror. Before she climbed the first step, Dad caught her arm.
She hated that talking to him felt like lying. She used to tell him everything. No one called her Cuttlefish anymore, except for Brooks. The doorbell chimed. A tall figure appeared through the frosted glass door. She glanced up at the tall boy on the porch. But when he called Eureka by her nickname, it still came out sounding just the way Sugar used to say it: soft and rushed and breezy.
Diana used to say that Eureka and Brooks had been friends since the womb. He had a narrow face, a year-round tan, and, recently, a hint of stubble on his chin.
It fell down along his eyebrows when he lifted the hood of his yellow raincoat. Everyone who knew him liked him, but Brooks avoided the popular crowd, which deemed it uncool to do anything besides play football. He was friends with the guys on the debate team, but mostly he hung out with Eureka. Brooks was selective with his sweetness, and Eureka had always been a prime recipient.
She looked like a hatchling. The only thing he ever said about what happened was that it was more fun to hang out with her outside a padded cell. To Brooks, the cast was a good thing to be free of, no downside. He grinned. If there was one thing Claire loved more than television, it was Brooks. The twins were terrified of alligators and it was the easiest way to keep them from following. Claire backed away, resting her elbows on the couch.
Thirty-five miles an hour. They passed the kitchen, where Dad was on the phone. He gave Brooks a measured glance, nodded, then turned his back to listen more closely to the insurance agent.
Out back, the night was quiet, steady rain hushing everything. Eureka and Brooks drifted to the white swinging bench, which was sheltered by the upstairs deck. It creaked under their weight. Brooks kicked lightly to start it swinging, and they watched raindrops die on the begonia border. Beyond the begonias was a small yard with a bare-bones swing set Dad had built last summer. Beyond the swing set, a wrought-iron gate opened onto the twisting brown bayou. Maya Cayce. And hexing me simultaneously.
Talented girl. This had never occurred to Eureka. Mosquitoes swarmed the light fixture over their heads. The wet fronds of the palm trees in the yard waved to greet the wind.
Surely you noticed the torrential downpour? The one about fifty times wilder than this? This freshman found me there. When he peeled back the bandage, Eureka gasped. It was deep, bright pink, almost a perfect circle about the size of a silver dollar.
You just fell down, out of the blue? Spent two hours in the ER, thanks to the panicked kid who discovered me. The sprinklers were going off in the rain. The yard around them was punctuated by four huge heritage oak trees. Orange hallelujah ferns, shimmering with raindrops, laced their trunks.
Eureka and Brooks were out of breath when they stopped at the wrought-iron gate and looked up at the sky. The back door opened and Claire stuck out her towhead. The porch light made her round cheeks glow. She leaned forward and cupped her hands over her mouth to project her voice.
A boy. He wants to see you. Ander had changed back into the pressed white shirt and dark jeans. He must have hung up that creaseless shirt in the locker room; no one did that on her team.
He seemed independent of the atmosphere around him. Eureka became self-conscious of her tangled hair, her bare, mud- splattered feet. The way his hands were clasped behind his back accentuated the span of his chest and shoulders. His expression was inscrutable. He seemed to be holding his breath. It made Eureka nervous. Maybe it was the turquoise of his eyes. In an instant, this boy had gotten to her. He made her feel extreme. Her body tingled. The doorknob she gripped felt like it was heated from within.
His chest brushed her shoulder blade as he rested his left hand against the doorframe. His body spanned hers. He was as wet as she was from the storm. Though his body hardly moved, his whole demeanor changed. His chin lifted slightly, sending his shoulders a centimeter back. His knees bent as if he were about to jump. Something cold and poisonous had taken hold of him.
No one fought with Brooks. They fought with his brother, Seth, who had the same sharp tongue that got Brooks into trouble, but none of the brains that got him off the hook. In the seventeen years Eureka had known Brooks, he had never once thrown or received a punch.
He edged closer against her, straightening his shoulders as if all that were about to change. The hair that usually fell across his brow was wet and swept to the side. He released his hands from behind his back, and for a moment Eureka knew he was going to punch Brooks. Would she duck or try to block it? Instead he held out her wallet. He seemed to be looking for a way to make fun of Ander.
She was getting claustrophobic with him standing over her like that. An exasperated laugh escaped his lips. He grabbed Brooks by the neck of his T-shirt. How long? What was Ander talking about? She should do something to defuse the situation. But what? He did not flinch when Ander came at him. Eureka could feel both of them breathing. Both of them were too close. She needed air.
She looked up at the strange, pale boy. Their eyes connected. She shook her head at Ander slightly, asking why. Ander took a few stiff steps backward until he was at the edge of the porch. Eureka took her first breath in what seemed like an hour. I just wanted to give you back your things and to tell you how to reach me.
When his truck door slammed, she closed her eyes and imagined herself inside it. She wanted to know what it looked like, what color the sheets on his bed were, whether his mom was cooking dinner. Brooks massaged her shoulders. She imagined Ander going through it, looking at her library card, her horrifying student ID picture, receipts from the gas station where she bought mountains of Mentos, movie stubs from embarrassing chick flicks Cat dragged her to see at the dollar theater, endless pennies in the change pouch, a few bucks if she was lucky, the quartet of black-and-white photo booth pictures of her and her mother taken at a street fair in New Orleans the year before Diana died.
She breathed in the high rosemary bush and ran a palm over its branches, scattering the raindrops that clung to them. Brooks closed the screen door behind him. He walked over to her and the two of them stared out at the wet road. The rain had stopped. Evening was falling over Lafayette. A golden half-moon searched for its place in the sky. Her house was on the west side of Shady Circle, backing up against a narrow slip of bayou. LeBlanc taught a catechism class at St.
She had a daughter a few years older than the twins, whom she dressed in chic outfits that matched her own. The LeBlancs were nothing like Eureka and Diana used to be—aside, maybe, from their clear adoration of each other—and yet, since the accident, Eureka found her mother-daughter neighbors fascinating. Their high blond ponytails shone in precisely the same way.
Eureka pivoted to look him in the eye. You could have introduced yourself. The guy grabbed me like he wanted to bash me up against the wall. For no reason! Are you into him or something? He spun Eureka on the porch until she yelped for him to stop. His smile disappeared. She was dying to look at the phone number. He brushed his wet hair from his eyes. His wound blazed orange, yellow, and red, like a fire.
They were quiet until Eureka heard muffled music. Brooks pulled his buzzing phone from his pocket. Eureka caught a glimpse of sultry eyes in the photo on the display. He silenced the call and glanced up at Eureka. Me too. He shook his head. Eureka started up the steps, hoping to make it upstairs and behind the closed door of her room before Rhoda exited the car. I need a hand. Her eyes were still following his taillights when a plastic-cased stack of dry cleaning landed in her arms.
It smelled like chemicals and those mints they had at the register at the Chinese buffet. Her dark hair was swept into a twist that always reminded Eureka of an Indian burn. She was really pretty, and sometimes Eureka could even see it—when Rhoda was sleeping, or in the trance of watching her children, the rare moments when her face relaxed.
But most of the time, Rhoda just looked late for something. Little tributaries of faded orange ran down the creases of her lips. What happened with the therapist? She could explain everything to Rhoda, remind her of the weather that afternoon, tell her that Brooks had only swung by for a few minutes, extol Dr. Then she turned and glared. What was that? She gave up. Eureka worried a dent into the grass with her bare toe. She looked in the fold and saw a little square of lined notebook paper among her seven dollar bills.
He had scrawled in careful black ink: Ander. A local phone number. Paul Fontenot, Esquire, of Southeast Lafayette. Diana had never mentioned having a will. Eureka had not seen them since the funeral. The funeral was not a funeral.
The boundary was hazy. They were going to bury the bodiless casket in the plot Sugar had paid for decades ago. What a waste. Eureka had taken the picture the summer before. Diana was laughing at the goat licking their laundry, which was hanging out to dry in the yard below. Her body was still in the ocean—bloated, blue, nibbled by fish, haunting Eureka every night. Eureka stayed there, alone, her hot cheek against the glass, until Dad came in and wrested the frame from her hands.
He filled them with his hands and walked her to the car. The question had nauseated Eureka. When Sugar passed five years earlier, she got a proper New Orleans—style jazz funeral: somber first-line music on the way into the cemetery, then joyous second-line music played on the way to the Sazerac celebration of her life.
The boardroom was large and sunny. Thick-paned windows offered views of tasteless loft apartments. Eureka, Dad, Maureen, and Beau sat around one corner of the huge table. Twenty swivel seats sat empty on the other side of the room. She placed Styrofoam cups of weak coffee in front of the family. She blew into her coffee cup, slurped a sip. For a moment, Eureka thought Maureen had been referring to her familial roots, the only ones Eureka cared about that day. The sisters had shared the same dewy skin and wiry red hair, dimples on their shoulders, green, grainy eyes behind their glasses.
You could look at Maureen and see Diana gone wrong. She was a cruel parody. Come by American Hairlines. On the house.
She closed her eyes. Beau was the middle child. Beau looked drained and skinny. His hair was thinning at the back. He traveled a lot, hitchhiked most places, had once somehow met Eureka and Diana on an archaeological dig in Egypt. It was where Diana had stayed whenever she was in town between digs, so Eureka spent a lot of time there, too.
The door opened and the lawyer, Mr. I will definitely recommend this book to young adult, fantasy lovers. Your Rating:. Your Comment:. Read Online Download. Great book, Last Day of Love pdf is enough to raise the goose bumps alone.
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