Make sure you've read the title before you proceed. Think the name rings a bell? Or maybe it tickles?
If no, then you're just a normal human being.
If yes, then you're one hell of a Twilighter.
Howdy folks. Yes the name is actually a parody of Bella Swan. The other day, I went to MPH and bought a number of books.
Top to bottom: Nightlight, Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Demigod Files, Eh! Wat Yu Talking?, PS. I Love You, A Place Called Here / Thanks For The Memories, and Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Last Olympian.
If you're wondering (I'm sure you're not, but I'm gonna say it anyway. Hah!) why did I buy the last book and not the first four, well, I'm collecting the hard cover copies of the Percy Jackson series, and the bookstore I went to only have the last book. So I'll have to find the other four. If you found em anywhere, please, PLEASE let me know.
Anyway, the reason I'm writing this post is not to promote Percy Jackson (not intentionally), but to err talk (I wouldn't say promote) about Nightlight.
Here's a sneak peek:
The scene in the classroom:
"I walked towards the seat, circling my hips and raising my eyebrows rhythmically like an attractive person. Suddenly I was falling forwards, sliding down the aisle from the momentous force of my plunge. Luckily, a computer wire wrapped around my ankle and stopped me from slamming into Mr Franklin's desk. I quickly pulled it from the wall to untangle myself, stood up, and looked around casually to see if anyone had seen. The whole class was looking at me, but probably for a different reason - I had a hologram patch on my backpack. From one angle it was an eggplant, from another it was an aubergine.
Edwart was looking at me too. He was seething furiously. His computer was open in front of him, and the synthesized melody from before had ceased. He raised his fist at me in anger.
I wiped the chemical dust off my clothes and sat down. Without looking at Edwart, I pulled out my textbook and notepad. Then, without looking at Edwart, I looked at the board and wrong down the terms Mr. Franklin had written. I don't think other people in my situation could do quite so many things without looking at Edwart.
Facing straight ahead, I let my eyes sort of slide to the side and study him peripherally, which doesn't count as looking. We were sitting side by side at the lab counter, yet he hadn't started a conversation with me. It was as though I hadn't applied deodorant or something when in reality Ihad applied deodorant, perfume and Febreze. I picked up a pencil on Edwart's desk and pressed it against the soft, supple flesh of my face.
I turned to thank him for the use of his pencil, but he was looking at me in horror, his mouth agape. He grabbed the pencil and started wiping his hands with baby-wipes and rubbing the pencil with Purell. Then he drew a circle around himself in chalk and returned to copying notes from the board, singing this jingle amiably to himself:
"Germs contagious. Contagion alert. But Edwart and Purell are stronger than dirt."
I reached out to borrow the pencil again for my notes, but the moment my hand breached the chalk line he screamed. It was an unnaturally high pitch for a boy."