If the silence in my head lasted, I would never go back. I wouldn’t be the first one to choose this form over the other. Maybe, if I ran far enough away, I would never have to hear again. . . .
I pushed my legs faster, letting Jacob Black disappear behind me.
Eclipse Discussion Questions
1. When Edward explains to Bella that Alice couldn’t see her when she was with Jacob’s pack, he phrases it: “your future got lost, just like theirs.” The other Cullen powers work on Jacob and his friends—why do you think Alice’s power is different?
2. It seems that Jacob’s story is following a path similar to Leah Clearwater’s story. Do you think that they will bond over this, or will he continue to dislike her? What other characters’ stories have similar paths?
3. The Cullens and the Quileutes come together over a common goal—to kill the attacking vampires. How will this newfound camaraderie affect the original treaty? What changes should be made and what parts should remain as they are?
4. Bella seems adamant that she will become a vampire, even though she knows her family and friends would be very much opposed to the idea. Do you think Charlie or Renée will figure out what Bella is planning? What about Mike and her friends at school? How will they react if they discover her intentions, and do you think that they could change her mind?
5. Victoria’s character represents a real physical danger to Edward and Bella. What other dangers exist for them that aren’t as apparent as Victoria? Will running away to Alaska keep them safe? What other options do they each have?
6. What do you think the next headlines will read in the Seattle papers now that the killing has stopped? How will the authorities explain what happened?
7. Why do you think Leah turns into a werewolf when none of the stories ever have mentioned a woman wolf before? How will her presence be significant to the pack? To Sam? To Emily? To Jacob?
8. Does Rosalie’s story change the way you feel about her? What insight do you now have into her character and personality? What more still remains a mystery? Despite how it turned out, was it hypocritical of her to change Emmett?
9. Does Jasper’s story change the way you feel about him? What insight do you now have into his character and personality? What more remains a mystery? Will Peter and Charlotte or Maria come back into his life?
10. Stephenie Meyer has noted that each of the novels in the Twilight Saga pays homage to other literary classics. For Eclipse, she has said Wuthering Heights was the key inspiration. If Bella were assigned the role of Catherine Earnshaw, which character would be Heathcliff—Edward or Jacob? What aspects of Edgar Linton can be found in either Edward and Jacob? Is it possible Meyer intended Bella to play the role of Heathcliff? Are there other characters from Wuthering Heights who could more accurately represent the complex relationship among Bella, Edward and Jacob?
Acknowledgments
I would be very remiss if I did not thank the many people who helped me survive the birthing of another novel:
My parents have been my rock; I don’t know how anyone does this without a dad’s good advice and a mom’s shoulder to cry on.
My husband and sons have been incredibly long-suffering—anyone else would have had me committed to an asylum long ago. Thanks for keeping me around, guys.
My Elizabeth—Elizabeth Eulberg, publicist extraordinaire—has made all the difference to my sanity both on and off the road. Few people are lucky enough to work so closely with their BFF, and I am eternally grateful for the wholesomeness of cheese-loving Midwestern girls.
Jodi Reamer continues to guide my career with genius and finesse. It is very comforting to know that I am in such good hands.
It is also wonderful to have my manuscripts in the right hands. Thanks to Rebecca Davis for being so in tune with the story in my head and helping me find the best ways to express it. Thanks to Megan Tingley, first for your unwavering faith in my work, and second for polishing that work until it shines.
Everyone at Little, Brown and Company Books for Young Readers has taken such amazing care of my creations. I can tell it is a true labor of love for you all, and I appreciate it more than you know. Thank you Chris Murphy, Shawn Foster, Andrew Smith, Stephanie Voros, Gail Doobinin, Tina McIntyre, Ames O’Neill, and the many others who have made the Twilight series a success.
I can’t believe how lucky I was to discover Lori Joffs, who somehow manages to be both the fastest and the most meticulous reader at the same time. I am thrilled to have a friend and accomplice who is so insightful, talented, and patient with my whining.
Lori Joffs again, along with Laura Cristiano, Michaela Child, and Ted Joffs, for creating and maintaining the brightest star in the Twilight online universe, the Twilight Lexicon. I truly appreciate all the hard work you put into providing a happy place for my fans to hang out. Thanks also to my international friends at Crepusculo-es.com for a site so amazing it transcends the language barrier. Kudos as well to Brittany Gardener’s fabulous work on the Twilight and New Moon by Stephenie Meyer MySpace Group, a fan site so large that the idea of keeping track of it boggles my mind; Brittany, you amaze me.
Katie and Audrey, Bella Penombra is a thing of beauty.
Heather, the Nexus rocks.
I can’t mention all the amazing sites and their creators here,
but thank you very much to each of you.
Many thanks to my cold readers, Laura Cristiano, Michelle Vieira,
Bridget Creviston, and Kimberlee Peterson, for their invaluable input
and encouraging enthusiasm.
Every writer needs an independent bookstore for a friend;
I’m so grateful for my hometown supporters at Changing Hands Bookstore
in Tempe, Arizona, and especially to Faith Hochhalter,
who has brilliant taste in literature.
I am in your debt, rock gods of Muse, for yet another inspiring album.
Thank you for continuing to create my favorite writing music.
I am also grateful to all the other bands on my playlist
who help me through the writer’s block, and to my new discoveries,
Ok Go, Gomez, Placebo, Blue October, and Jack’s Mannequin.
Most of all, a gargantuan thank-you to all of my fans.
I firmly believe that my fans are the most attractive, intelligent,
exciting, and dedicated fans in the whole world.
I wish I could give you each a big hug and a Porsche 911 Turbo.
Copyright
Copyright © 2008 by Stephenie Meyer
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Little, Brown and Company
Hachette Book Group
237 Park Avenue, New York, NY 10017
Visit our website at www.HachetteBookGroup.com
First eBook Edition: August 2008
Little, Brown and Company is a division of Hachette Book Group USA, Inc.
The Little, Brown name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group USA, Inc.
Epigraph for Book Three from Empire by Orson Scott Card. A Tor Book. Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC. Copyright © 2006 by Orson Scott Card. Reprinted with permission of the author.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
ISBN: 978-0-316-03283-4
Contents
Cover
Copyright
BOOK ONE: BELLA
Preface
1. Engaged
2. Long Night
3. Big Day
4. Gesture
5. Isle Esme
6. Distractions
7. Unexpected
BOOK TWO: JACOB
Preface
8. Waiting For The Damn Fight To Start Already
9. Sure As Hell Didn’t See That One Coming
10. Why Didn’t I Just Walk Away? Oh Right, Because I’m An Idiot.
11. The Two Things At The Very Top Of My Things-I-Never-Want-To-Do List
12. Some People Just Don’t Grasp The Concept Of “Unwelcome”
13. Good Thing I’ve Got A Strong Stomach
14. You Know Things Are Bad When You Feel Guilty For Being Rude To Vampires
15. Tick Tock Tick Tock Tick Tock
16. Too-Much-Information Alert
17. What Do I Look Like? The Wizard Of Oz? You Need A Brain? You Need A Heart? Go Ahead. Take Mine. Take Everything I Have.
18. There Are No Words For This.
BOOK THREE: BELLA
Preface
19. Burning
20. New
21. First Hunt
22. Promised
23. Memories
24. Surprise
25. Favor
26. Shiny
27. Travel Plans
28. The Future
29. Defection
30. Irresistible
31. Talented
32. Company
33. Forgery
34. Declared
35. Deadline
36. Bloodlust
37. Contrivances
38. Power
39. The Happily Ever After
Vampire Index
Acknowledgments
This book is dedicated to my ninja/agent, Jodi Reamer.
Thank you for keeping me off the ledge.
And thanks also to my favorite band,
the very aptly named Muse,
for providing a saga’s worth of inspiration.
BOOK ONE
bella
CONTENTS
PREFACE
1. ENGAGED
2. LONG NIGHT
3. BIG DAY
4. GESTURE
5. ISLE ESME
6. DISTRACTION
7. UNEXPECTED
Childhood is not from birth to a certain age and at a certain age
The child is grown, and puts away childish things.
Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
PREFACE
I’d had more than my fair share of near-death experiences; it wasn’t something you ever really got used to.
It seemed oddly inevitable, though, facing death again. Like I really was marked for disaster. I’d escaped time and time again, but it kept coming back for me.
Still, this time was so different from the others.
You could run from someone you feared, you could try to fight someone you hated. All my reactions were geared toward those kinds of killers—the monsters, the enemies.
When you loved the one who was killing you, it left you no options. How could you run, how could you fight, when doing so would hurt that beloved one? If your life was all you had to give your beloved, how could you not give it?
If it was someone you truly loved?
1. ENGAGED
No one is staring at you, I promised myself. No one is staring at you. No one is staring at you.
But, because I couldn’t lie convincingly even to myself, I had to check.
As I sat waiting for one of the three traffic lights in town to turn green, I peeked to the right—in her minivan, Mrs. Weber had turned her whole torso in my direction. Her eyes bored into mine, and I flinched back, wondering why she didn’t drop her gaze or look ashamed. It was still considered rude to stare at people, wasn’t it? Didn’t that apply to me anymore?
Then I remembered that these windows were so darkly tinted that she probably had no idea if it was even me in here, let alone that I’d caught her looking. I tried to take some comfort in the fact that she wasn’t really staring at me, just the car.
My car. Sigh.
I glanced to the left and groaned. Two pedestrians were frozen on the sidewalk, missing their chance to cross as they stared. Behind them, Mr. Marshall was gawking through the plate-glass window of his little souvenir shop. At least he didn’t have his nose pressed up against the glass. Yet.
The light turned green and, in my hurry to escape, I stomped on the gas pedal without thinking—the normal way I would have punched it to get my ancient Chevy truck moving.
Engine snarling like a hunting panther, the car jolted forward so fast that my body slammed into the black leather seat and my stomach flattened against my spine.
“Arg!” I gasped as I fumbled for the brake. Keeping my head, I merely tapped the pedal. The car lurched to an absolute standstill anyway.
I couldn’t bear to look around at the reaction. If there had been any doubt as to who was driving this car before, it was gone now. With the toe of my shoe, I gently nudged the gas pedal down one half millimeter, and the car shot forward again.
I managed to reach my goal, the gas station. If I hadn’t been running on vapors, I wouldn’t have come into town at all. I was going without a lot of things these days, like Pop-Tarts and shoelaces, to avoid spending time in public.
Moving as if I were in a race, I got the hatch open, the cap off, the card scanned, and the nozzle in the tank within seconds. Of course, there was nothing I could do to make the numbers on the gauge pick up the pace. They ticked by sluggishly, almost as if they were doing it just to annoy me.
It wasn’t bright out—a typical drizzly day in Forks, Washington—but I still felt like a spotlight was trained on me, drawing attention to the delicate ring on my left hand. At times like this, sensing the eyes on my back, it felt as if the ring were pulsing like a neon sign: Look at me, look at me.
It was stupid to be so self-conscious, and I knew that. Besides my dad and mom, did it really matter what people were saying about my engagement? About my new car? About my mysterious acceptance into an Ivy League college? About the shiny black credit card that felt red-hot in my back pocket right now?
“Yeah, who cares what they think,” I muttered under my breath.
“Um, miss?” a man’s voice called.
I turned, and then wished I hadn’t.
Two men stood beside a fancy SUV with brand-new kayaks tied to the top. Neither of them was looking at me; they both were staring at the car.
Personally, I didn’t get it. But then, I was just proud I could distinguish between the symbols for Toyota, Ford, and Chevy. This car was glossy black, sleek, and pretty, but it was still just a car to me.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but could you tell me what kind of car you’re driving?” the tall one asked.
“Um, a Mercedes, right?”
“Yes,” the man said politely while his shorter friend rolled his eyes at my answer. “I know. But I was wondering, is that… are you driving a Mercedes Guardian?” The man said the name with reverence. I had a feeling this guy would get along well with Edward Cullen, my… my fiancé (there really was no getting around that truth with the wedding just days away). “They aren’t supposed to be available in Europe yet,” the man went on, “let alone here.”
While his eyes traced the contours of my car—it didn’t look much different from any other Mercedes sedan to me, but what did I know?—I briefly contemplated my issues with words like fiancé, wedding, husband, etc.
I just couldn’t put it together in my head.
On the one hand, I had been raised to cringe at the very thought of poofy white dresses and bouquets. But more than that, I just couldn’t reconcile a staid, respectable, dull concept like husband with my concept of Edward. It was like casting an archangel as an accountant; I couldn’t visualize him in any commonplace role.
Like always, as soon as I started thinking about Edward I was caught up in a dizzy spin of fantasies. The stranger had to clear his throat to get my attention; he was still waiting for an answer about the car’s make and model.
“I don’t know,” I told him honestly.
“Do you mind if I take a picture with it?”
“Sure—nobody is going to believe me if I don’t get proof.”
“Um. Okay. Fine.”
I swiftly put away the nozzle and crept into the front seat to hide while the enthusiast dug a huge professional-looking camera out of his backpack. He and his friend took turns posing by the hood, and then they went to take pictures at the back end.
“I miss my truck,” I whimpered to myself.
Very, very convenient—too convenient—that my truck would wheeze its last wheeze just weeks after Edward and I had agreed to our lopsided compromise, one detail of which was that he be allowed to replace my truck when it passed on. Edward swore it was only to be expected; my truck had lived a long, full life and then expired of natural causes. According to him. And, of course, I had no way to verify his story or to try to raise my truck from the dead on my own. My favorite mechanic—
I stopped that thought cold, refusing to let it come to a conclusion. Instead, I listened to the men’s voices outside, muted by the car walls.
“. . . went at it with a flamethrower in the online video. Didn’t even pucker the paint.”
“Of course not. You could roll a tank over this baby. Not much of a market for one over here. Designed for Middle East diplomats, arms dealers, and drug lords mostly.”
“Think she’s something?” the short one asked in a softer voice. I ducked my head, cheeks flaming.
“Huh,” the tall one said. “Maybe. Can’t imagine what you’d need missile-proof glass and four thousand pounds of body armor for around here. Must be headed somewhere more hazardous.”
Body armor. Four thousand pounds of body armor. And missile-proof glass? Nice. What had happened to good old-fashioned bulletproof?
Well, at least this made some sense—if you had a twisted sense of humor.
The Twilight Saga Collection Page 130