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The name I’d been given at birth, in Eastern Europe, before I’d been adopted and brought to America, rechristened Jessica Packwood.... He was still there, but in the road now, booted feet planted on either side of the double yellow line, arms still crossed, watching the bus drive away. “Antanasia...” Had I really heard him call me by that long- forgotten name?

Or maybe I was hearing things, because the word was drowned out by the sound of tires hissing on wet pavement, grinding gears, and the whoosh of the doors as the driver, old Mr. And if he knew that obscure fact, what else did the dark stranger, receding in the mist, know about my past?

And what ever kind of shorten version this is stinks.

Why on Earth did they give her a motorcycle in this one? One time in the real book she was so desperate she rode a horse in the rain.

But when a devious cheerleader sets her sights on Lucius, Jess finds herself fighting to win back her wayward prince, stop a global vampire war—and save Lucius’s soul from eternal destruction.

For example Jessica was very shy, save for the end, in the book.

Marrying a vampire definitely doesn’t fit into Jessica Packwood’s senior year “get-a-life” plan.

In the precious split second I wasted being angry at my father, the stranger really did move in my direction, stepping out from under the tree, and I could have sworn— just as the bus, thank god, crested the rise about fifty yards down the road—I could have sworn I heard him say, “Antanasia.” My old name... Locating a spot at the very back of the bus, I plopped down with a rush of relief. Maybe my imagination had run wild, or too many episodes of had messed with my head. Twisting around, I peered out the rear window, and my heart sank.

I was thinking about how many times I’d probably waited for that bus over the course of a dozen years, killing time like any mathlete would, by doing calculations in my head, when I noticed him.

And suddenly that familiar stretch of blacktop seemed awfully desolate.

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