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A rare treat that offers a bit of everything romance, magic, history, Gothic intrigue and delivers on all of it. There she weaves by night and day A magic web with colours gay.
- A Great and Terrible Beauty by Libba Bray
- A Great and Terrible Beauty (Gemma Doyle Trilogy #1)
- [PDF] DOWNLOAD READ Ty Cobb A Terrible Beauty (Epub Kindle)
A Victorian boarding school story, a Gothic mansion mystery, a gossipy romp about a clique of girlfriends, and a dark other-worldly fantasy—jumble them all together and you have this complicated and unusual first novel. Sixteen-year-old Gemma has had an unconventional upbringing in India, until the day she foresees her mother's death in a black, swirling vision that turns. Telusuri situs ini.
With an OverDrive account, you can save your favorite libraries for at-a-glance information about availability. Find out more about OverDrive accounts. The Gemma Doyle Trilogy. Libba Bray. Random House Children's Books.
A Great and Terrible Beauty by Libba Bray
Visit her at www. Chapter One June 21, Bombay, India "Please tell me that's not going to be part of my birthday dinner this evening. A surpris-ingly pink tongue slithers in and out of a cruel mouth while an Indian man whose eyes are the blue of blindness inclines his head toward my mother and explains in Hindi that cobras make very good eating.
My mother reaches out a white-gloved finger to stroke the snake's back. Now that you're sixteen, will you be dining on cobra? It's enough to send me reeling back where I bump into a wooden stand filled with little statues of Indian deities.
One of the statues, a woman who is all arms with a face bent on terror, falls to the ground. Kali, the destroyer. Lately, Mother has accused me of keeping her as my unofficial patron saint.
Lately, Mother and I haven't been getting on very well. She claims it's because I've reached an impossible age. I state emphatically to anyone who will listen that it's all because she refuses to take me to London.
We're moving past the cobra man and into the throng of people crowding every inch of Bombay's frenzied marketplace. Mother doesn't answer but waves away an organ-grinder and his monkey. It's unbearably hot.
Beneath my cotton dress and crinolines, sweat streaks down my body. The flies-my most ardent admirers-dart about my face. I swat at one of the little winged beasts, but it escapes and I can almost swear I hear it mocking me. My misery is reaching epidemic proportions. Overhead, the clouds are thick and dark, giving warning that this is monsoon season, when floods of rain could fall from the sky in a matter of minutes. In the dusty bazaar the turbaned men chatter and squawk and bargain, lifting brightly colored silks toward us with brown, sunbaked hands.
Everywhere there are carts lined with straw baskets offering every sort of ware and edible-thin, coppery vases; wooden boxes carved into intricate flower designs; and mangos ripening in the heat.
Talbot's new house? Couldn't we please take a carriage? And I'll thank you to keep a civil tone. Sarita, our long-suffering housekeeper, offers pomegranates in her leathery hand. Perhaps we will take them to your father, yes? My mother starts to say something to me, thinks better of it, sighs-as usual. We used to go everywhere together, my mother and I-visiting ancient temples, exploring local customs, watching Hindu festivals, staying up late to see the streets bloom with candlelight.
Now, she barely takes me on social calls. It's as if I'm a leper without a colony. He always does," I mumble in my defense, though no one is paying me a bit of attention except for the organ-grinder and his monkey. They're following my every step, hoping to amuse me for money. The high lace collar of my dress is soaked with perspiration. I long for the cool, lush green of England, which I've only read about in my grandmother's letters.
Letters filled with gossip about tea dances and balls and who has scandalized whom half a world away, while I am stranded in boring, dusty India watching an organ-grinder's monkey do a juggling trick with dates, the same trick he's been performing for a year. How adorable he is! No one seems to understand that I am fully sixteen and want, no, need to be in London, where I can be close to the museums and the balls and men who are older than six and younger than sixty. As if on cue, the furry urchin scrambles up and sits on my shoulder with his palm outstretched.
The monkey hisses. Mother grimaces at my ill manners and drops a coin in its owner's cup. The monkey grins triumphantly and leaps across my head before running away. A vendor holds out a carved mask with snarling teeth and elephant ears. Without a word, Mother places it over her face. It's a game she's played with me since I could walk-a bit of hide-and-seek meant to make me smile.
A child's game. Same ears. I've hit her vanity, her weak point. An age at which most decent girls have been sent for schooling in London. Her fruit inspection is all-consuming. And now he's starting at university. I'll never have a season. I'll end up a spinster with hundreds of cats who all drink milk from china bowls.
It's unattractive, but I find I'm powerless to stop. Would you still think London was so charming when you were the subject of cruel gossip for the slightest infraction of the rules? London's not as idyllic as your grandmother's letters make it out to be.
I've never seen it. Mustn't let them think we British ladies are so petty as to indulge in arguments on the streets. We only discuss the weather, and when the weather is bad, we pretend not to notice. Sarita chuckles nervously. It seems only yesterday you were in the nursery. Oh, look, dates! Your favorite. It's hot and I suddenly want to scream, to run away from everything and everyone I've ever known.
Just like India. Penetrating and wise, people call them. I have the same large, upturned green eyes. The Indians say they are unsettling, disturbing.
Like being watched by a ghost. Sarita smiles down at her feet, keeps her hands busy adjusting her brown sari. I feel a tinge of guilt for saying such a nasty thing about her home. Our home, though I don't really feel at home anywhere these days. It is gray and cold and there is no ghee for bread. You wouldn't like it. Good bay, it means, though I can't think of anything good about it right now. A dark plume of smoke from the train stretches up, touching the heavy clouds.
Mother watches it rise. A gift from a villager, Mother said. Her good-luck charm. I've never seen her without it. Sarita puts a hand on Mother's arm.
We'll have a lovely time at Mrs. I'm sure she'll have lovely cakes just for your birthday-" A man in a white turban and thick black traveling cloak stumbles into her from behind, bumping her hard. When he does, he reveals a young man behind him wearing the same sort of strange cloak. For a moment, the young man and I lock eyes. He isn't much older than I am, probably seventeen if a day, with brown skin, a full mouth, and the longest eyelashes I have ever seen.
I know I'm not supposed to find Indian men attractive, but I don't see many young men and I find I'm blushing in spite of myself. He breaks our gaze and cranes his neck to see over the hordes. He whispers low to my mother in perfectly accented English.
I start to say as much to my mother but the look of sheer panic on her face stops me cold. Her eyes are wild as she whips around and scans the crowded streets like she's looking for a lost child. Despite visions and a special destiny, Gemma is not so unlike the other girls at Spence in her feelings of alienation and her yearning for acceptance.
A Great and Terrible Beauty (Gemma Doyle Trilogy #1)
Sixteen-year-old Gemma has had an unconventional upbringing in India, until the day she foresees her mother's death in a black, swirling vision that turns out to be true. Sent back to England, she is enrolled at Spence, a girls' academy with a mysterious burned-out East Wing. There Gemma is snubbed by powerful Felicity, beautiful Pippa, and even her own dumpy roommate Ann, until she blackmails herself and Ann into the treacherous clique. Gemma is distressed to find that she has been followed from India by Kartik, a beautiful young man who warns her to fight off the visions. Nevertheless, they continue, and one night she is led by a child-spirit to find a diary that reveals the secrets of a mystical Order.
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[PDF] DOWNLOAD READ Ty Cobb A Terrible Beauty (Epub Kindle)
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List of Gemma Doyle Trilogy characters - Wikipedia. The Gemma Doyle Trilogy Ser. It is. During one of her visions Gemma is led into the caves that border the school grounds. There, she finds a diary written 25 years earlier. Libba Bray s focus is not on Gemma s romance with Kartik at all. So anyway, this book was one of my favorites in middle school- it had everything I liked: historical fiction with a dash of the paranormal.
- Я хотел бы составить официальную жалобу городским властям. Вы мне поможете. Человек вашей репутации - ценнейший свидетель. Клушару эта идея понравилась. Он сел в кровати.
Она узнала этот запах, запах плавящегося кремния, запах смертельного яда. Отступив в кабинет Стратмора, Сьюзан почувствовала, что начинает терять сознание. В горле нестерпимо горело.