Michele Jaffe - Rosebush
Here you can read online Michele Jaffe - Rosebush full text of the book (entire story) in english for free. Download pdf and epub, get meaning, cover and reviews about this ebook. year: 2010, publisher: Razorbill, genre: Art. Description of the work, (preface) as well as reviews are available. Best literature library LitArk.com created for fans of good reading and offers a wide selection of genres:
Romance novel
Science fiction
Adventure
Detective
Science
History
Home and family
Prose
Art
Politics
Computer
Non-fiction
Religion
Business
Children
Humor
Choose a favorite category and find really read worthwhile books. Enjoy immersion in the world of imagination, feel the emotions of the characters or learn something new for yourself, make an fascinating discovery.
- Book:Rosebush
- Author:
- Publisher:Razorbill
- Genre:
- Year:2010
- Rating:5 / 5
- Favourites:Add to favourites
- Your mark:
Rosebush: summary, description and annotation
We offer to read an annotation, description, summary or preface (depends on what the author of the book "Rosebush" wrote himself). If you haven't found the necessary information about the book — write in the comments, we will try to find it.
Instead of celebrating Memorial Day weekend on the Jersey Shore, Jane is in the hospital surrounded by teddy bears, trying to piece together what happened last night. One minute she was at a party, wearing fairy wings and cuddling with her boyfriend. The next, she was lying near-dead in a rosebush after a hit-and-run. Everyone believes it was an accident, despite the phone threats Jane swears were real. But the truth is a thorny thing. As Janes boyfriend, friends, and admirers come to visit, more memories surface-not just from the party, but from deeper in her past . . . including the night her best friend Bonnie died. With nearly everyone in her life a suspect now, Jane must unravel the mystery before her killer attacks again. Along the way, shes forced to examine the consequences of her life choices in this compulsively readable thriller.
Jennifer Armentrout
Rachel Gibson
Michael Ford
Jill Churchill
Jill Churchill
Jane C. Morris
Julia Golding
Jane Corry
Michael Thomas Ford
Thomas Perry
Sara Shepard
Rosebush — read online for free the complete book (whole text) full work
Below is the text of the book, divided by pages. System saving the place of the last page read, allows you to conveniently read the book "Rosebush" online for free, without having to search again every time where you left off. Put a bookmark, and you can go to the page where you finished reading at any time.
Light
Font size:
↓
↑
Reset
Interval:
↓
↑
Bookmark:
Make
Table of Contents
Dedication
For Heather, Lila, and Elle Vandenberghe
I am so grateful to have all three of you
I am so grateful to have all three of you
Acknowledgements
Writing a book is always a thorny proposition, and I was beyond lucky to have the guidance, support, help, and patience of
Meg Cabot
Susan Ginsberg
Lexa Hillyer
Peter Jaffe
Princesses of Apt 11D
Laura Rosenbury
Ben Schrank
Bethany Strout
Jennifer Sturman
Anna Webman
Whole Foods biscuits
the marvelous people of Writers House and Razorbill
everyone who tolerated me when I was pretty intolerable
Susan Ginsberg
Lexa Hillyer
Peter Jaffe
Princesses of Apt 11D
Laura Rosenbury
Ben Schrank
Bethany Strout
Jennifer Sturman
Anna Webman
Whole Foods biscuits
the marvelous people of Writers House and Razorbill
everyone who tolerated me when I was pretty intolerable
in cajoling the manuscript into blossom. Thank you all immensely.
Anything that came out smelling like a rose is because of them.
Everything else is my doing alone.
Everything else is my doing alone.
Prologue
The image is stark yet beautiful.
Its just before dawn, at that moment when the world turns monochrome and everything is subsumed under a blanket of blue-gray light. The streetlights have gone off, the street is a still gray ribbon scarred with two black marks trailing from the upper left of the picture to the lower right. In the background, blurry, large houses hunker down, streaked dark from rain. In the foreground and slightly to the right, set in blue-gray grass, is a fantastic bush. It looks like something from a fairy tale, a witch cursed into an alternate form, gnarled fingers reaching for the sky. At the center lies a girl.
Shreds of her tulle skirt are tangled among the branches blowing in the morning breeze like tiny flags. A ceramic rabbit, a mother duck followed by five tiny ducklings, and a squirrel playing the flute stand silent guard around her. One of her legs is bent up; the other juts out of the bush dangling a platform shoe, Cinderella after the ball gone bad. Her left hand is under her and the right one, with a friendship ring on the index finger, reaches up as though to pluck the single deep-red rose that hangs above herthe only spot of color in the image. Her face is lovely, dark hair feathering over half of it. Her body is covered with angry gashes and a magenta river of blood trickles from her head. Her lips part, as though shes about to say something.
But then you see her eyes and know its impossible. They are wide open, pupils fully dilated. And sightless.
It looks like any one of a dozen photos Ive taken for my Dead Princesses series, with two crucial differences.
The girl in this photo should have been dead. And I didnt take it.
Im in it. Im the girl.
It was the police who shot it, responding to the 911 call from Mrs. Doyle reporting a dead body in her front yard on Dove Street. They arrived three minutes after the call. It took them five minutes to stabilize my breathing and thirty-two minutes to cut me out of the bush.
When I woke up, I had no memory of how I got there or what led up to it, which is apparently normal. All I remembered was pain and the single thought I must not let go.
But slowly pieces of it have been coming back. An intensive care unit is a good place to do a lot of deep thinkingor a bad one, depending on what youre thinking about. I stare at the photo in my hand trying to see myself as an object, another clue. In the past three days, much of the puzzle has been filled in and Im not sure I like the picture that is emerging.
Hello, princess, says a cheery voice from the door of my room.
I look up and see an unfamiliar man in scrubs walking in. I miss Loretta.
Lorettas the regular nurse in the ICU, the one I was used to seeing. Plus she was on duty when I first opened my eyes, and even though I was only in the ICU three days, I felt like she and I knew each other well. Time passes in strange ways in the ICU, allowing you to form unusual relationships.
Oh, thats ICU time, Loretta had explained to me.
ICU time?
Its like how they say dogs age seven years for every one of ours? Well, every minute in the ICU feels about an hour long. Time here either crawls or flashes by, and let me tell you, sweetheart, youd rather it was crawling. Flash-forwards never mean anything good.
The new guy is now saying, Im Ruben. And from the looks of this room, youre Little Miss Popular.
Ruben, I repeat, mentally cataloging the name. One thing Loretta likes to do is gossip, but I cant remember her saying anything about him.
He fingers several bouquets on the windowsill, ending up with the two dozen red roses. This must have set someone back plenty. I wish I could find a boyfriend as generous.
Theyre not from my boyfriend, I tell him.
Woo-hoo, then youre doing something right. What about this guy? He picks up a teddy bear wearing a muscle shirt that says GET WELL BEARY SOON! Not sure if thats from a friend or an enemy.
Me either. Im thinking about how thats true in more ways than one as he moves on to study the rest of the get-well presents covering every surface of my room, so I only half pay attention as he asks about the card with the puppies on it playing instruments from David and the balloon bouquet from Nikki with the card that says CHEERS.
Now Ruben is standing in front of a heart-shaped wreath of roses thats flanked by a figurine and a doll. What are all these over here? From your secret admirer, he reads aloud from one of the cards. All this? He gestures. I nod. So let me seeyouve got a boyfriend, a not boyfriend, and a secret admirer. He shakes his head at me. Girl, no wonder someone tried to run you down.
Hes right. I have a lot of presents because somehowunaccountablyIm actually popular. And most of the We miss you! and Get well soon messages are liesbecause Im very popular.
Thats the irony, isnt it? The cruel lesson Ive learned. In movies everyone loves the princess, but in reality its different. Popularity isnt a double-edged sword; it has only one edgekill or be killed. Theres a finite amount of space at the top of the social pyramid and once youve reached it, theres only one direction to go and no shortage of people who want to push you there.
I know now who tried to kill me, but I dont want to believe it. Every part of my mind seeks out other solutions, any other possible explanation, because the truth is too horrifying. Ive had every clue I needed to figure it out in front of me all along, but Ive been willfully blind. Its like that moment when youre framing a shot and what was blurry comes finally and acutely into focus. Only in this case I dont want it to.
Ill be back to check on you in a tic, princess, Ruben says.
I could try to stop him, but it wont change anything. This killer can get at me anywhere.
My gaze returns to the photo of me in the rosebush and its all completely clear. There is only one person who could have done all of this. One person to whom everything points. The drink. The slammed door. The kiss. The car. The ring.
Light
Font size:
↓
↑
Reset
Interval:
↓
↑
Bookmark:
Make
Similar books «Rosebush»
Look at similar books to Rosebush. We have selected literature similar in name and meaning in the hope of providing readers with more options to find new, interesting, not yet read works.
Jennifer Armentrout
Rachel Gibson
Michael Ford
Jill Churchill
Jill Churchill
Jane C. Morris
Julia Golding
Jane Corry
Michael Thomas Ford
Thomas Perry
Sara Shepard
Reviews about «Rosebush»
Discussion, reviews of the book Rosebush and just readers' own opinions. Leave your comments, write what you think about the work, its meaning or the main characters. Specify what exactly you liked and what you didn't like, and why you think so.