The Dark Artifices_Cassandra Clare

Diego sighed. “Yes, I disappointed Cristina and I lost her regard—you must understand what that is like. To have let down someone you loved. To have disappointed yourself.”

“Maybe not exactly,” said Kieran, with a shadow of his old wryness. “Nobody calls me Perfect Kieran.”

“I don’t call myself Perfect Diego!” Diego protested, feeling that the conversation had degenerated. “Nobody would call themselves that!”

αρνουμαι να συμπαθησω ή να καταλαβω τον Ντιεγκο...απλα αρνουμαι!

“Octavian.” It was Magnus’s voice. He was standing in the doorway still, looking down at the small tearstained boy in front of him. There was a great weariness in his eyes, but also an immense compassion: the kind of compassion that came with great old age.

He seemed as if he would have said more, but Rafe and Max had joined him. Silently they filed down the steps and went over to Tavvy; Rafe was nearly as tall as he was, though he was only five. He reached to hug Tavvy, and Max did too—and to Mark’s surprise, Tavvy seemed to relax slightly, allowing the embraces, nodding when Max said something to him in a quiet voice.

Helen got to her feet, and Mark wondered if his face wore the same expression hers did, of pain and shame. Shame that they could not do more to comfort a younger brother who barely knew them.

“It’s all right,” Simon said. “Look, you tried.”

“We did not succeed,” said Mark.

“You can’t fix grief,” said Simon. “A rabbi told me that when my father died. The only thing that fixes grief is time, and the love of the people who care about you, and Tavvy has that.” He squeezed Mark’s shoulder briefly. “Take care of yourself,” he said. “Shelo ted'u od tza'ar, Mark Blackthorn.”

Θελω στην ζωη μου βιβλιο για τις περιπετειες των υιων Lightwood-Bane και του βενιαμιν των Blackthorne...ν αρχισουμε αιτηση να μαζεψουμε υπογραφες... I NEED THIS!!!

παλι καλα οπως το παει αυτη θα αφηγηθει το τι εκανε και ο τελευταιος μακρινος ξαδερφος οποτε ελπιζουμε.

Θυμαμαι κατι την ειχαν ρωτησει αν ο Ταβι με τον Ραφ θα ειναι παραμπαται και κατι ειχε απαντησει οτι δεν θα τους δουμε μεγαλους...δεν ξερω...ελπιζω ν αλλαξει εστω και σε short story το ζηταει ο οργανισμος μου!!

Δεν νομιζω να μεινει μονο σε αυτα που εχει προγραμματισει.Πουλαει πολυ το συμπαν της για να το αφησει ετσι...αλλα ηδη εχει κανονισει να γραψει 10 βιβλια η γυναικα.Εχει χρονο μπροστα της για να το αναπτυξει κι αλλο.

QuAD snippet
“Why?” Emma said, her voice shaking. “Why would something this horrible happen because of the parabatai bond? It’s supposed to be something so good. Maybe the Queen was right and it’s evil.”

Την υπαρξη θα μας γαμησει και θα ζηταμε και αλλο!!!Αντε να ρθει Οκτωβρης να διαβασω The Land I Lost να παρω την δοση μου...

Μαστιγωνε Cassie....we like it.

Ρε αδερφη βρηκες πουθενα το a deeper love?
Δεν μπορω να το βρω πουθενα ακομη.Τι στο καλο.

"Clary rarely went into the greenhouse, not because she didn’t like it, but because it was a special place to her. This was the place she’d really felt magic for the first time — not just known it existed, but felt it in a way that seemed to open the world to incredible possibility.
It had changed little since then. She turned to Jace...."

και στα δικα μας αδερφή

http://www.mediafire.com/file/sm1nf2c9d33vd2u/A_Deeper_Love_-_Cassandra_Clare.epub/file

Thank you.Το βρηκα να το διαβασω Online αλλα οχι να το κατεβασω.
Εκλεισαν την ιστοσελιδα που χρησιμοποιουσα και τωρα γαμησε τα.

3-4 μηνες ακομη.Υπομονη. Θα κανουμε την βιομηχανια χαρτομαντηλων πλουσια μια και εξω.

Οτι θες απλα σφυρα αδερφη! Αντε κοντοζυγωνει!!!!!!!!!!

I will dearie.
To deeeper love σου αρεσε?

δεν μπορω να πω οτι δεν μ αρεσε δεν μπορω να πω οτι τρελαθηκα κιολας... το περιμενα περισσοτερο τραβαω τα βυζια μου που πεθανε ο γουιλ χανω τα παιδια μου γιατι αυτα γερνανε και εγω ειμαι αθανατη ω απογνωση οποτε ας βοηθήσω τους βομβαρδισμενους να ξεχαστω και οχι τοσο εντ αι-αι-αι-αι γουιλ ολγουειζ λαβ γιοοοουυυ με τον Τζεμ...

Δεν λεω τα προσχηματα τα κρατήσε δν ενιωσα οτι κατουρανε στο μνημα του γουιλ και ηταν μια αρκετα ενδιαμερουσα ιστορια απλα ειχα ψηθει για κατι και γενικα ενιωσα ενα κλαιν

Στο ιδιο μηκος κυματος ειμαστε.
Δεν με χαλασε μια χαρα περασα.Αλλα απο την στιγμη που το εβαλε τοσο κοντα στον θανατο του γουιλ περιμενα πως θα την απασχολουσαν περισσοτερο τα παιδια της παρα η καψουρα της για τον Τζεμ.Δεκτη και αγαπημενη σιγουρα αλλα μεγαλη η αισθηση της υπερβολης.

υποθετω οτι το ποιντ τς ιστοριας ηταν οτι μονο ο Τζεμ μπορει να καταλαβει τν θλιψη για τον θανατο του γουιλ οποτε το να ναι μαζι του ειναι και παρηγορια αλλα και να κρατανε τν αναμνησή του γουιλ ζωντανη; θα μπορουσε και καλυτερα η Κασσι μαλλον επειδή ειχε και ενα 2ο παγκοσμιο στο μπακγκραουντ δεν ηθελε να το κανει πολυ νεροζουμι; who knows? Παντως τα επομενα πρεπει να χουν φοβερο ενδιαφερον δεδομενου οτι Σελιν και τα χρονικα του Κυκλου δεν τα χει πολυαγγιξει και εχουμε Οκτωβρη the land I lost που το περιμενω σαν βροχη στν ερήμο...

Me too.
Οντως θιγει ωραια θεματα.Μπορει να μην με τραβηξε τοοοοσο πολυ το συγκεκριμενο στορι γτ περιμενω παρα πολυ και τα tlh.Γενικα ομως η συλλογη των συγκεκριμενων ιστοριων νομιζω ειναι πιο απολαυστικη απο τις αντιστοιχες του Σαιμον.

“If we’re an army, what are we called?” said Simon.
Julian turned and unpinned the rolled-up canvas hanging on the wall behind him, which had been held in place with tacks. A gasp went up as it unfurled.
Julian had painted a banner, the kind an army would carry before it in wartime. The central item was a saber, point down, painted a shimmering pale gold. Behind the saber spread a pair of angel’s wings, while on each side clustered symbols of Downworld—a star for vampires, a spell book for warlocks, a moon for werewolves, and a four-leafed clover for faeries.
Dangling from the hilt of the saber, so small many would not be able to see it, was a locket with a circle of thorns on the front.
“We are called Livia’s Watch,” Julian said, and Emma saw Ty sit up straighter in his chair. “We carry this banner in honor of my sister, so that all who have been hurt by the Cohort will not be forgotten.”

“I’m here on my own account,” Magnus said, in a low and distant voice. “I need your help. There is absolutely no one else that I can ask.”
“That’s not what I . . .” Julian pushed sopping-wet hair out of his eyes, his voice trailing off in realization. “You’re remembering someone.”

αδερφη αυτο με τον Μανγκνους δεν το επιασα; τι εννοει;

Ουτε και εγω καταλαβαινω και πολλα.Μαλλον αυτο ηθελε και η Cassie.
Μηπως θυμηθηκε κατι σχετικα με το ποιος προκαλει αυτα τα συμπτωματα στους Downworlders?



Αδερφη στειλε και ενα link για wicked ones γτ παλι τπτ δεν βρισκω.

http://www.mediafire.com/file/7hq79v4sp608sz2/the_wicked_ones_%28ghosts_of_the_-_cassandra_clare.epub/file

ειμαι στα μισα...

Kαλο ειναι?
εγω σημερα δεν προλαβαινω.Αυριο μαλλον.

διαφημιστικα μου βγαζει μονο αδερφη τπτ αλλο.

http://www.mediafire.com/file/7hq79v4sp608sz2/the+wicked+ones+%28ghosts+of+the+-+cassandra+clare.epub

it's complicated...παντως καλο ειναι

The Land I Lost:Alec Lightwood, partner of the High Warlock of Brooklyn and father of a warlock child, is sent to Buenos Aires to re-establish the Shadowhunters amidst the ruins left by the Dark War. When he arrives, he is not welcomed by the Shadowhunters there. He believes it is because of his companion Lily, the head of the New York vampire clan, until a Shadowhunter orphan confides a dark secret to him under cover of the Shadow Market.

Land I Lost snippet for Alec’s birthday!
Rafe held up his hands to be carried. Alec swung him up in his arms. Warlock hearts beat differently, and Alec was used to hearing the sound of Magnus and Max’s hearts, infinitely steady and reassuring. It was odd, holding a child with a mortal heartbeat, but Alec was getting used to the new rhythm.

The evening sun was scorching on whitewashed walls of the street they were heading down. Their shadows were long behind them, but the town was still bright, and Alec saw for the first time that it could be lovely.

Occasionally Alec despaired: that the world couldn’t be changed, or even that it wouldn’t change fast enough. He was not immortal, and didn’t want to be, but there were times he was afraid he wouldn’t live long enough, that he’d never have the chance to take Magnus’s hands in front of everyone they loved and make a sacred promise.        

At those times, there was an image Alec held against exhaustion or surrender, a reminder to always keep fighting for that day, for their day.

When he was gone, when he was dust and ashes, Magnus would still be walking through this world. If the world was changed for the better, then that unknowable future would be better for Magnus. Alec could imagine that on some scorching hot day like this, on a strange street in a strange land, Magnus might see something good that reminded him of Alec, some way that the world was changed because Alec had lived. Alec couldn’t imagine what the world would be like then.

But he could imagine, in some faraway future, the face he loved best.

The morning air caught the edge of Emma’s hood as she turned. “What is this about?” One of the Faerie girls shook her head. “The King is suspicious, naturally. Too long has there been enmity between the Courts. The Riders are inspecting each guest.” Emma froze in horror. “The Riders of Mannan?