Saturday, August 13, 2011

Clockwork Prince Reward

 I'm really, really bored today. I'm bored and sad. My best friend is leaving and who knows when she is coming back, I just had to go get new batteries for my keayboard (and syrup for the ice cream I'm making later and I'm going to eat all alone) and I, as I said, am bored.
 Anyway, before I go make the ice cream I decide to post a second reward that Cassandra Clare released for Jace's big victory!!! It's an excerpt from Clockwork Prince with Tessa and it's very, very SPOILERY. It's actually the definition of spoilery. So if you don't want anything to ruin your Clockwork Prince, then maybe you should think twice before reading it. Here it is, anyway. Hope you like it and don't forget to leave comments with your reactions. Enjoy!


He flinched away from her, and Tessa dropped her hand, hurt. “Jem, what it is it? You don’t want me to touch you?”

“Not like that,” he flared, and then flushed even darker than before.

“Like what?” She was honestly bewildered; this was behavior she might have expected from Will, but not from Jem: this mysteriousness, this anger.

“As if you were a nurse and I were your patient. You think because I am ill I am not like —” He drew a ragged breath. “Do you think I do not know,” he went on more quietly, “that when you take my hand, it is only so that you can feel my pulse? Do you think I do not know that when you look into my eyes it is only to see examine my pupils, to see how much of the drug I have taken? If I were another man, a normal man, I might have hopes, presumptions even; I might -—” His words seemed to catch; either because he realized he had said too much or because he had run out of breath.

She shook her head, feeling her plaits tickle her neck. “This is the fever speaking, not you.”

His eyes darkened, and he began to turn away from her. “You can’t even believe I could want you,” he said in a half-whisper. “That I am alive enough, healthy enough —”

“No.” Without thinking, she caught at his arm. He stiffened. “James, that's not at all what I meant —”

He curled his fingers around her hand, where it lay on his arm. His own scorched her skin, hot as fire. And then he turned her, and drew her toward him.

They stood face to face, chest to chest. His breath stirred her hair. She felt the fever rising off him like mist off the Thames; sensed the pounding of the blood through his skin, saw with a strange clarity the pulse at his neck, the light on the pale curls of his hair where it lay against his paler throat. Prickles of heat ran up and down her skin, bewildering her. This was Jem — her friend, steady and reliable as a heartbeat. Jem did not set her skin on fire or make the blood rush fast inside her veins until she was dizzy.

Did he?

“Tessa,” he said. She looked up at him. There was nothing steady or reliable about his expression. His silver eyes were dark, his cheeks flushed. As she raised her face, he brought his down, his mouth slanting across hers, and even as she froze in surprise they were kissing.

No comments:

Post a Comment