My Drawings

***Spoiler Alert***
Half-Blood by Jennifer Amentrout is about a teenaged girl named Alex. This book starts when Alex is still a run away, but she runs into trouble. When the Covinent sends Aiden and his 'crew' after her, he saves her and takes her back. She is forced to do a lot of extra training with Aiden, and there is no point deniying the attraction the two of them have. As the book goes on, it progresses the love life and depth in the story,introducing Seth, the Apolloyn, and then Alex finds out that when she turns eighteen she'll become one too. I must admit, the wait for Aiden to kiss Alex is almost unberrable,but when it happens you will not be dissapointed. I loved this book incredibally so, and I hate to admit it, but I think Ms. Amentrout has won out over my love for deep dark and dangerous Patch.

Becca, to win my heart back you'll need one h*** of a fourth book that won't dissapoint in the romance department. Though it's set during Chesvan, so something tells me that it is going to be a bit more actiony then it is going to be romancey. Anyways. Lots of Love to my one follower on this place, and I hoped you enjoyed this!
~MK

My inner Fan Girl couldn't hold herself in anymore. I was sitting in my room when I found this on the most amazing blog for all things Hush, Hush. So, here it is, the first scenes from Finale (though it is only the first four pages):

I’m not a party girl. The earsplitting music, the gyrating bodies, the inebriated smiles-not my thing. My ideal Saturday night would be at home, snuggling on the sofa and watching a rom-com with my boyfriend, Patch. Predictable, low-key…normal. My name is Nora Grey, and while I used to be an average American teen, buying my clothes at the J. Crew outlet and spending my babysitting money on iTunes, normal and I have recently become perfect strangers. As in, I wouldn’t know normal if it marched up and poked me in the eye.
                Normal and I parted ways when Patch strolled into my life. Patch has seven inches on me, operates on cold, hard logic, moves like smoke, and lives alone in a supersecret, super-swanky studio beneath Delphic Amusement Park. The sound of his voice, low and sexy, can melt my heart in three seconds flat. He’s also a fallen angel, kicked out of heaven for his flexibility when it comes to following rules. I personally believe Patch scared the pants of normal, and it took off running for the far side of the world.
                I might not have normalcy, but I do have stability. Namely, in the form of my best friend of twelve years, Vee Sky. Vee and I have an unshakable bond that even a laundry list of differences can’t break. They say opposites attract, and Vee and I are proof of the validity of the statement. I am tall and slender with big curly hair that tests my patience, and I’m a Type A personality. Vee is even taller, with ash-blond hair, green serpentine eyes, and more curves than a roller coaster track. Almost always, Vee’s wishes trump mine. And unlike me, Vee lives for a good party.
                Tonight Vee’s wish to seek out a good party took us across town to a four-story brick warehouse throbbing with club music, swimming with fake IDs and jam-packed with bodies producing enough sweat to take greenhouse gases to a whole new level. The layout inside was standard: a dance floor sandwiched between a stage and a bar. Rumor had it that a secret door behind the bar led to the basement, and the basement led to a man named Storky, who operated a thriving pirated anything business. Community religious leaders kept threatening to board up Coldwater’s hotbed of inquity for disorderly teens…also known as the Devil’s Handbag.
                “Groove it, baby,” Vee yelled at me over the mindless thump, thump, thump of music, lacing her fingers through mine and swaying our hands over our heads. We were at the center of the dance floor, being jostled and bumped on every side. “This is how Saturday night’s supposed to be. You and me gettin’ down, letting loose, working up good ol’-fashioned girl-sweat.”
                I did my best to give an enthusiastic nod, but the guy behind me kept stepping on the heel of my ballet flat, and at five-second intervals, I had to shove my foot back into it. The girl to my right was dancing with her elbows out, and if I wasn’t careful, I knew I’d get clipped in the shoulder.
                “Maybe we should go get drinks,” I called to Vee. “It feels like Florida in here.”
                “That’s ‘cause you and me are burning up this place. Check out the guy at the bar. He can’t take his eyes off your smokin’ moves.” She licked her finger and pressed it too my bare shoulder, making a sizzling noise.
                I followed her gaze…and my heart lurched.
                Dante Matterazzi lifted a chin in acknowledgment. His next gesture was a little more subtle
                Wouldn’t have pegged you for a dancer, he spoke to my mind.
                Funny, I would have pegged you for a stalker, I shot back.
                Dante Matterazzi and I both belonged to a Nephilim race, hence the innate ability to mind-speak, but the similarities stopped there. Dante didn’t know how to give it a rest, and I didn’t know how much longer I could dodge him. I’d met him for the first time just this morning, but he was acting like our relationship had banked several years, at the very least.
                I left a message on your cell phone, he said
                Gee, I must have missed it. More like I deleted it.
                We need to talk.
                I’m kind of busy. To emphasize my point, I rolled my hips and swung my arms from side to side, doing my best to imitate Vee, whose favorite television network was BET, and it showed. She had hip-hop stamped on her soul.
                A faint smile quirked Dante’s mouth. While you’re at it, get your friend to give you some pointers. You’re floundering. Definite fish-out-of-water material. Meet me out back in two.
                I glared at him. Busy, remember?
                This can’t wait. With a meaningful arch of his eyebrows, he disappeared into the crowd.
                “His loss,” Vee said. “He can’t handle the heat.”
                “About those drinks,” I said. “Can I bring you a Coke?” Vee didn’t look ready to give up dancing anytime soon, and as much as I wanted to avoid Dante, I figured it was best to just get this over with. Suck it up and talk to him. The alternative was having him shadow me all night.
                “Coke with lime,” Vee said.
                I edged my way off the dance floor and, after making sure Vee wasn’t watching me, ducked down a side hallway and out the back door. The alley was bathed in blue moonlight. A red Porsche Panamera was parked in front of me, and Dante leaned against it, arms folded loosely over his chest.
                Dante is six feet nine with the physique of a solider fresh out of boot camp. Case in point: He has more muscle tone in his neck than I have in my entire body. Tonight he was wearing baggy khakis and a white linen shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest, revealing a deep V of smooth, hairless skin. Show-off.
                “Nice car,” I said.
                “It gets the job done.”
                “So does my Volkswagen, and it cost considerably less.”
                “Takes more than four wheels to be a car.”
                Ugh.
                “So,” I said, tapping my foot. “What’s so urgent?”
                “You still dating that fallen angel?”
                It was only the third time in as many hours that he’d asked. Twice by text messaging, and now face-to-face. My relationship with Patch had gone through a lot of ups and downs, but the current trend was upward. We weren’t without our issues, however. In a world where Nephilim and fallen angels would rather die than smile at each other, dating a fallen angel was a definite no-no.
                I stood a little taller and said, “You know it.”
                “Being careful?”
                “Discreet is the watchword.” Patch and I didn’t need Dante to tell us it was wise not to make a lot of public appearances together. Nephilim and fallen angels never needed an excuse to teach each other a lesson, and racial tensions between the two groups were getting hotter with each passing day. It was autumn, October to be exact, and the Jewish month of Cheshvan was just days away.
                Every year during Cheshvan, fallen angels possess Nephilim bodies by the droves. Fallen angels have free rein to do as they please, and since It’s the only time during the year they can actually feel physical sensation, their creativity knows no bounds. They chase after pleasure, pain, and everything in between, playing parasites to their Nephilim hosts. For Nephilim, Cheshvan is a hellish prison.
                If Patch and I were so much as seen holding hands by the wrong individuals, we’d pay, one way or another.
                “Let’s talk about your image,” Dante said. “We need to generate some positive media around your name. Boost Nephilim confidence in you.”
                I gave a theatrical snap of my fingers. “Don’t you just hate it when your approval ratings are low?”
                Dante frowned. “This isn’t a joke, Nora. Cheshvan starts in just over seventy-two hours, and that means war. Fallen angels on one side, us on the other. Everything rides on your shoulders-you’re the leader of the Nephilim army.”
                Queasiness pinched my stomach. I hadn’t exactly applied for the job. Thanks to my deceased father, a truly twisted man, I’d been forced to inherit the position. I’d sworn a blood oath to lead his army, and failure to do so would result in my death, and the death of my mom. No pressure.
                “Despite our cautious measures, there are rumors you’re dating a fallen angel, and that your loyalties are split.”
                “I am dating a fallen angel.”
                Dante rolled his eyes. “Think you could say it any louder?”
                I shrugged. If that’s what you really want. Then I opened my mouth, but dante was beside me in an instant, covering it. “I know it kills you, but could you make my job easy just this once?” he murmured in my ear, glancing around at the shadows with obvious uneasiness, even though I was positive we were alone. I’d only been a purebred Nephilim twenty-four hours, but I trusted my new, sharper sixth sense. If there were eavesdroppers lurking around, I’d know.
                “What did you have in mind?” I asked when he lowered his hand.
                “Date Scott Parnell.”
                Scott Parnell was the first Nephilim I’d ever befriended, at the tender age of five. I hadn’t known a thing about his true heritage back then, but in recent months he’d taken on the roles of first my tormenter, then my partner in crime, and eventually my friend. There were no secrets between us. Likewise, there was no romantic chemistry.
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Eeeeeppppp!!!!!! If you want to get the rest of it, then you'll have to go to nearest book store and pivk up the newest version of crescendo, and then check it out. I am still too busy screaming and fan-girling over this awesomness. I am going to be updating on more books I've read. I still looooovvveee the hush, hush saga, and I swear to god if there are any ARCs of the fourth (and final Finale) book of the Hush, Hush seriese, and another blog (i.e B.O.B, YA Sisterhood, ect) gets it, I am totally finding out how the h*** to get a copy because I LLLOOOOVVVVEEEEE the Hush, Hush series. Although, I hate to admit it, but I think I might have a new favorite author (sorry Becca, you're series is still amazing and all, but I have feelings for a new author) and her name is: Jennifer L Armentrout, AAAHHH I just read Ha-Blood and Obsidian, mostly because I have been sick for the past two days, and so I , and therefore had a ton of time to do reading (I was able to finish four books) I looooove her books. Ahh, I hat waitingifor books to come. I am so tired of waiting, but I think I will be able to.