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Amor a segunda vista

Amor a segunda vista

4.6 6
by Amanda Quick

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Ediciones B
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Edition description:
Spanish-language Edition
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Product dimensions:
4.30(w) x 6.80(h) x 0.80(d)

Meet the Author

Amanda Quick is a pseudonym for Jayne Ann Krentz (b. 1948), who is an American author of romance novels. Krentz writes under a variety of additional pen names, including her maiden name, Jayne Castle, as well as her married name and others. She has published more than 120 books in the contemporary, historical, and paranormal romance genres, with tens of millions of copies in print.

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Amor a Segunda Vista 4.6 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 5 reviews.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
WICKED!!! Go on!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Bows down. "Master...." Hey, it's NRM!! I LUV THE STORY! Let me know if you need characters!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
We have another Rick Riordan here! Good job!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
"Ev! Time to go!"<p> I dashed down the stairs, eating a quick bowl of corn flakes, and grabbed my backpack waiting by the front door.<br> My stepmother was smiling at me encouragingly, the corners of her eyes crinkled. "Have a nice day," she whispered, kissing my cheek.<br> I groaned. "You know it won't be a nice day," l grumbled. "It never is a nice day. For both the school and me."<br> My stepmother sighed, running a hand through her graying blonde hair. "Honey, l know you're dyslexic, so l'm sure school is difficult for you. And the incidents that happened in elementary and middle school were not particularly- memorable, but at least the school didn't kick you out."<br> Instead of answering her, l opened the door and walked out into the still-summery air. "Bye, Ev!" My stepmom called after me.<br> It was September now, but before the autumn chills. A new middle school. My stomach tangled into a quivering knot.<br> I crossed the quiet neighborhood to the bus stop, standing there with three other teenagers: a curly-haired boy, a sleepy-looking girl, and a tall girl with long, straight black hair and piercing blue eyes. She was staring at me intently. Uncomfortable, l looked away, at the cracked and weedy pavement.<p> If you don't know me already, l'm Evanessa Venus Appeson. Just call me Ev. Evanessa makes me squirm. It's a name meant for a far more beautiful person than l am. I'm a total Plain Jane. Thin, lank brown hair. Muddy brown eyes. Zits. Nose like a vulture's beak. Small-built and slender, which seems to be my only redeeming physical feature. With just Ev, people will think you have some normal name like Eve or Evelyn. My mother, my birth mother, chose the name Evanessa. My father told me when she had first held me in her arms, she proclaimed she would name me Evanessa. "This girl," she said, "will stretch the boundaries of her kind. She needs a unique name. Dear, how about Evanessa?"<p> She left soon after that; my dad remarried when l was at least a year old. Kim was more of a mother to me than anyone.<br> The girl was still staring. I flushed. Did l have a zit with an ugly white head that l had forgotten to put concealer on? Did l have an eyelash or a crusty eye booger on my cheek? I cautiously felt my face. Nothing.<br> I decided to ignore her odd behavior and took a seat near the front when the bus came, instead worrying about what damage l would do to the school today. Would it be another scaly monster that looked like a lion, a goat, and a snake all mixed up erupting out of a girl's bathroom toilet and forcing me to defend myself by ripping the toilet paper dispenser out of the wall and whacking it on the head, therefore getting me into huge trouble for not only the dispenser but half the middle school plumbing system? Would it be another weird snake lady appearing at my elementary school cafeteria, freaking me out so bad l dumped my bowl of macaroni on her head, causing several pieces of broken tableware and a huge mess? I shuddered. I hoped that l could at least behave today. You're an eighth grader now, l reminded myself sternly. Control yourself.<p> The bus stopped. The chattering students filed out. That girl's eyes were still on me. As l approached the gates of Brighton Middle School, l froze.<p> A lady with snakes for hair was waiting for me at the front doors.<p> Turns out my utter inability to be normal doesn't go away at the school bus.