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Death and the Girl Next Door, by Darynda Jones
Free Ebook Death and the Girl Next Door, by Darynda Jones
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Darynda Jones, author of The New York Times bestselling series that began with First Grave on the Right, brings us Death and the Girl Next Door, a thrilling Young Adult novel garnering high praise and early buzz from major authors
Ten years ago, Lorelei's parents disappeared without a trace. Raised by her grandparents and leaning on the support of her best friends, Lorelei is finally beginning to accept the fact that her parents are never coming home. For Lorelei, life goes on.
High school is not quite as painful as she thinks it will be, and things are as normal as they can be. Until the day the school's designated loner, Cameron Lusk, begins to stalk her, turning up where she least expects it, standing outside her house in the dark, night after night. Things get even more complicated when a new guy—terrifying, tough, sexy Jared Kovach—comes to school. Cameron and Jared instantly despise each other and Lorelei seems to be the reason for their animosity. What does Jared know about her parents? Why does Cameron tell Jared he can't have Lorelei? And what will any of them do when Death comes knocking for real? Thrilling, sassy, sexy, and inventive, Darynda Jones's first foray into the world of teens will leave readers eager for the next installment.
"Unique, witty, and touching—I LOVED THIS BOOK!" —P.C. Cast, New York Times bestselling author of The House of Night Series
- Sales Rank: #1145637 in Books
- Published on: 2012-10-02
- Released on: 2012-10-02
- Format: Bargain Price
- Number of items: 1
- Dimensions: 8.25" h x .84" w x 5.48" l,
- Binding: Paperback
- 304 pages
From Booklist
Lorelei McAllister has lived with her grandparents in Riley’s Switch, New Mexico, since the mysterious disappearance of her parents 10 years ago. When a devastatingly gorgeous new student arrives at the local high school—at the same time that Lorelei is being stalked by a broodingly handsome classmate—she finds herself at the center of a celestial battle. Jones, making the move from writing for adults to writing for teens, has thrown every possible element into this story, and by the end of the book—the first in a trilogy—readers may find themselves slightly overwhelmed by the information dump that sets up book two. But while the plot is at times muddy, the characterization is strong, particularly in the case of Lorelei’s best friends Brooklyn and Glitch, whose authentically snarky repartee helps to balance the sillier aspects of the story (such as Lorelei’s guilt about the fact that the Angel of Death is now stuck on this earthly plane because he didn’t kill her). Hand to fans of Lauren Kate’s Fallen (2009) and Becca Fitzpatrick’s Hush, Hush (2009). Grades 9-12. --Kara Dean
About the Author
Winner of the 2009 Golden Heart® for Best Paranormal Romance for her manuscript First Grave on the Right, New York Times bestselling author DARYNDA JONES can't remember a time when she wasn't putting pen to paper.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
TRAITOR
The small town of Riley’s Switch, New Mexico, had only one coffeehouse, so that’s where I sat with my two best friends, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that only two of us would make it out of there alive. Though I did tend to exaggerate.
The fresh scent of pine from the surrounding mountains, which mingled with the rich aroma of coffee, lingered forgotten. In its place was a tense silence. It thickened the air around us. Emotions soared and rage simmered as I glowered at the traitor sitting across from me, waiting for him to flinch, to cower under my scrutiny. I would make his life a living heck if it were the last thing I did. Mostly because I wasn’t allowed to use the word Hell, being the granddaughter of a pastor and all. Otherwise, Casey Niyol Blue-Spider, aka the Glitch, would be toast.
“I swear, Lorelei,” he said, caving at last as a telling bead of sweat trickled down his temple, “I didn’t take it.” He shifted nervously in his seat and scanned the Java Loft, most likely to see if anyone was paying attention to the unscrupulous activities going on right under their noses. Since we were the only patrons in the place, probably not. “And even if I did, and I’m not saying I did,” he added, jabbing an index finger toward me, “who the heck cares?”
I lowered my voice, controlled the tone and inflection of every word, every syllable, striving to make myself sound menacing. I took up a mere five feet of vertical air space, so menacing was not always easy for me to accomplish. Slipping into a cryptic grin, I said, “You realize the minute I touch your hand, I’ll know the truth.”
His gaze darted to the hand he’d wrapped around his whipped almond toffee cappuccino with nonfat milk, and he jerked it back out of my reach. His hand. Not the whipped almond toffee cappuccino with nonfat milk.
My best friend Brooklyn leaned in to me and whispered, “You know he accidentally deleted seventeen songs off your classic rock playlist, right? And he used your toothbrush once without asking.” She glared at him, the contempt in her eyes undeniable. “I say make the traitor squirm.”
Glitch’s jaw tightened, and I could sense his inevitable defeat like a dog senses fear.
“Tag-teaming?” he asked, indignant. “Isn’t that a little unsportsmanlike?”
“Not for a couple of heartless dames like us,” Brooklyn said.
I turned to her with a smile. “Oh, my god, I love it when you talk pulp-fiction detective.”
“I know, right?” she said, her dark skin and brown eyes a picture of joy.
Brooke and I met when we threw down in the third grade. By the end of my first and only catfight, I had a few missing hairs, a broken fingernail, and a new best friend. And we were practically twins. If not for the fact that she had long sable hair, chestnut skin, and light brown eyes, and I had curly auburn hair, pasty white skin, and eyes the bizarre color of chimney smoke, people would never be able to tell us apart. Probably because we were both exactly five feet tall. Not a centimeter more. Not a centimeter less. It was eerie.
In choreographed unison, we refocused on the slimeball sitting across from us.
“Spill,” she said.
“Okay, sheesh.” He pushed back his cappuccino and folded his arms over his chest, a defensive gesture that only added fuel to my suspicions. “I admit it. I had a copy of the test beforehand, but I didn’t steal it.”
“I knew you cheated.” I reached across the table and whacked him on the arm. Thankfully, Glitch wasn’t much bigger than either of us, so the punch quite possibly registered somewhere deep in the scary depths of his boy mind. Or that was my hope, anyway. “You blew the curve, Glitch.”
Guilt washed over him. I could tell by the thin line of his lips, the chin tucked in shame.
“You’re such a wiener,” Brooklyn said. “I really needed those extra points.”
“And where on planet Earth did you get a copy of the test?” I had to admit, I was more than a little astonished. And a tad jealous.
He shook his head. “No way. I’m not giving up my source. And besides, you both got B’s. It’s not like you failed the stupid thing.”
Brooklyn reached over, curled a fist into his T-shirt, and pulled him forward until their noses were mere inches apart. “Clearly you do not understand the innate intricacies and often illogical drives of an A freak.” She let go, disgusted. “I hate your guts.”
“No, you don’t.” He took a swig of his cappuccino, unconcerned.
Like Brooklyn, Glitch was a bona fide child of two nations, with dark, coppery skin from his Native American father and hazel green eyes, compliments of his Irish-American mother. And thanks to a compromise between the two, he had the coolest name on earth: Casey Niyol Blue-Spider. The mix of ethnicities gave him a rich, enigmatic attraction. Though he hardly needed to, he kept his short black hair spiked with blond highlights in an attempt to make himself seem wild and unpredictable, which was always good for a laugh. Glitch was about as wild and unpredictable as a carrot stick. Though he did have an unnatural fear of turtles that was interesting.
“You’re just intimidated by my manly physique.”
Brooke snorted. “This coming from a boy who’s barely tall enough to get on the roller coaster at the state fair without a permission slip from his parents.”
His grin took on an evil luster. “Least I get on, short pants.”
“Oh yeah? Well, at least I wasn’t voted most likely to acquire gainful employment as Santa’s elf.”
“Guys, guys,” I said, holding up my hands for a cease-fire. “We can’t fling short jokes at each other when we’re all short. It’s just not effective.”
“That’s true,” Brooklyn said in disappointment.
“No, it’s not. I am three, count them, three”—he held up three fingers for us to count—“inches taller than the likes of you two. I can’t believe I’m willing to be seen in public with either of you.”
“Glitch,” Brooklyn said, a warning edge in her voice, “I will stab you in the face if you ever speak to me again.”
He squinted at her, completely unmoved, then turned to me and asked, “So, did your grandmother get her computer running?”
“No. You’re just going to have to stop by sometime and fix it.”
“Cool.” He smiled in anticipation. “What’s for dinner tonight?”
I knew he’d do that. Brooke had already invited herself over, claiming she needed to upload her assignment because the Internet at her house was down. Glitch would come over, fix my grandmother’s computer in about ten minutes, and then my two best friends would spend the rest of the evening keeping me company.
It was the same every year. For a week before until a week after the anniversary of my parents’ disappearance, they spent almost every waking moment with me, watching over me, seeing to my every need. They were amazing. I’m not sure what they thought I would do if left alone—I’d never been particularly suicidal—but they were the dearest friends a girl could ask for. The air seemed to turn dreary this time of year, thick and heavy, so having them around did help. And I totally loved being waited on hand and foot, so naturally I milked it for all it was worth.
The bell jingled, announcing a new customer before I could answer Glitch, but I was busy prying my fingers apart anyway. I’d spilled mocha cappuccino over them—hot mocha cappuccino—when I tried to add a sprinkle of cinnamon earlier, and few things were more disturbing than sticky fingers. Forest fires, perhaps. And people who claimed to have been abducted by aliens.
“I have to wash my hands before we go.”
“Okay.” Brooklyn rummaged through her bag and pulled out her phone for a quick check as I scooted out of the booth, grateful for the excuse. For some reason, the fact that my parents had been gone almost ten years exactly, like some kind of milestone anniversary, had me more melancholy than usual. “I’ll keep an eye on the traitor,” Brooke continued, “until we can decide what to do with him.”
“Do you need ideas?” Glitch asked, turning feisty. “I know lots of things you could do to me.”
“Do any of them involve piano wire and a razor blade?”
I laughed to myself and headed toward the back of our favorite and pretty much only hangout. It sat a mere block from our alma mater, Riley High, and we practically lived in our corner booth. I ducked past the snack counter and into a very dark back hall. Judging by the boxes lining the narrow passage, I’d be taking my life into my hands if I risked a journey to the little señorita’s room without illumination, so I ran my hand along a paneled wall. Where would I be if I were a light switch? Just as the tips of my fingers found the switch, a silhouette stepped out of the shadows and brushed past me. I startled with a gasp.
“Excuse me,” I said, placing a hand over my heart.
“Sorry.” The guy paused slightly before continuing on his way, and in that instant, I saw the makings of utter perfection: a long arm with shadowy curves that dipped around the fluid lines of muscle; a tall, wide shoulder; dark hair that curled playfully over an ear and led to a strong, masculine jaw. Something inside me lurched, craving a closer look at his face, but he walked by too fast and the hall was too dark for me to catch anything else.
After a couple of seconds, I realized my hand had brushe...
Most helpful customer reviews
0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Read the Charley Davidson series instead (same author, definitely NOT YA)
By Mare
I'm sorry, but this one isn't doing it for me. I am a loyal fan of the Charley Davidson books, but can't get into this series.
0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Love it
By Amazon Customer
Love it. Book was exactly as stated and came before the due date.
24 of 25 people found the following review helpful.
A good PNR Young Adult Story
By Under The Covers Book Blog
Reviewed by ANGELA & posted at Under the Covers Book Blog
Darynda Jones is an automatic follow for me since reading the fantastic Charlie Davidson series. I am not much of a Young Adult reader but I am glad I gave this book a try because I absolutely enjoyed it.
Lorelei McAllister is a 16year old very quirky, very sarcastic and an independent girl with the ability to see visions with a mere touch. With her BFFs Glitch and Brooke, they try to unveil the mystery of the two very hot boys who suddenly became interested in Lorelei...in a stalker kind of way. She also discovers a few more things, such as her parents' disappearance, her grandparents secret and the history of her ancestors that makes the very being that she is now...the history goes way back.
Lorelei reminded me of a young Charlie, both having natural abilities that goes hand in hand with death, sort of. Jared aka Azriel as a young Reyes aka Rey'aziel also have some similarities. Reyes comes from evil and Jared doesn't, but both are very mysterious and their main goal is their heroines' safety and protection. I almost expected to find out that they were somehow connected. Lorelei and Jared were great together but you can see that there will be a complicated relationship between them. The steam factor between them is very mild but the attraction is definitely palpable.
Lorelei's BFFs, Glitch, Brooklyn and friend Cameron definitely have some kind of love triangle there. And there is a big mystery between the tree boys that kept the mystery going through out the book. The mystery goes on with the disappearance of Lorelei's parents and the connection between the boys and the local town's people.
Darynda covers a good amount of Paranormal and bit of Christian mythology/biblical history in this book. There are also demons, ghosts, and angels that kept me wanting to read more. But what I loved most was that she kept the Charlie Davidson element in this book. The humor, sarcastic banter, suspense and mystery was very similar but in a low tone, surely appropriate for the Young Adult audience.
*ARC provided by publisher
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