By Shannon Delany
Every little thing approximately Jessie Gillmansen's existence replaced whilst her mom died. Now even her native land of Junction is altering. Mysterious darkish issues are taking place. All Jessie wishes is to prevent extra switch. yet displaying a scorching new man round Junction excessive, she's approximately to find an entire new kind of swap. Pietr Rusakova is greater than beauty and a desirable accent--he's a man with a perilous mystery. And his very life is bound to convey colossal hassle to Jessie's small town. it sort of feels switch is the only factor Jessie cannot avoid...
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Additional resources for 13 to Life (Book 1)
I tried an endearing smile, but I could feel my lips stretch into a crazed grin. . I forced my lips back into a less maniacal look, hoping Derek had somehow overlooked my stalker-like smile. I felt someone watching us and glanced briefly away from Derek to figure out who. . Still ringed by my female classmates, Pietr was glaring our way. No. Not our way—Derek’s way. Weird. And it wasn’t the glare a guy shoots a rival guy over a girl (not that I’ve seen one personally, but I’ve read about them plenty of times).
He erased the end of werewolf and made it plural. “Think of it like this—if werewolves existed”—he winked—“wouldn’t they follow a social structure somewhere between that of wolves and humans? ” someone called out from the back of the room. ” Mr. Miles grinned. “Monsters destroyed the SS. Maybe not monsters like werewolves, maybe not like vampires or ghosts. Think about it. The SS was filled with—and led by—some of the cruelest monsters in history. ” someone else asked. Mr. Miles shrugged. “You tell me.
Sarah. ” Again I jabbed a finger in their directions. Amy didn’t wait for an introduction. “I’m Amy,” she said. ” He smiled. Sarah and Sophia giggled at me. Some friends. Pietr speared a piece of mystery meat loaf with his fork and popped the first bite into his mouth, chewing like eating was an exercise in efficiency, not something to be enjoyed. Well, that I understood, looking at my own wilted lettuce. ” he asked again. I refused to answer, trying to seem absorbed in the search for a crouton with some crunch.