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308 pages, Hardcover
First published November 5, 2013
“What kind of eggs?” I asked.Over easy eggs! Clearly, Cassie is a genius worthy of the FBI. Just like that, she is drafted to join a special unit in the FBI. The Naturals. She lives and trains with four other teenagers, each with their own special skills. They may be kids, but they're soooooooooo much better than the real FBI agents.
“You tell me.” The boy’s words caught me off guard.
I stared at him through the wisps of hair still covering my face. “You want me to guess how you want your eggs cooked?”
He smiled. “Why not?”
And just like that, the gauntlet was thrown.
“Not scrambled,” I said, thinking out loud. Scrambled eggs were too average, too common, and this was a guy who liked to be a little bit different. Not too different, though, which ruled out poached—at least in a place like this. Sunny-side up would have been too messy for him; over hard wouldn’t be messy enough.
“Over easy.” I was as sure of the conclusion as I was of the color of his eyes. He smiled and closed his menu.
No matter how long they did this job, or how much training they had, these agents would never have instincts as finely honed as ours.Teen
“Have you ever seen The Bad Seed?” he inquired politely. “The movie.”**note: Dean's father is a serial killer, hence the Bad Seed joke. The Bad Seed is a movie where the child turns out to be an evil, murdering monstrosity.**
A muscle in Dean’s jaw twitched. “No.”
Michael grinned. “I have.”
Dean stood up. “I’m done here.”
When Agent Starmans glanced in the room, all he saw was [him] and me.Self-explanatory.
The kiss in the pool was nothing compared to this. Then, our lips had barely brushed. Now, my lips were opening. Our mouths were crushed together. His hand traveled from my neck down to my lower back. My lips tingled, and I leaned into the kiss, shifting my body until I could feel the heat from his in my arms, my chest, my stomach.
Sloane on coffee was a bit like an auctioneer on speed. The numbers poured out of her mouth rapid-fire, a statistic for every occasion. For eight hours.Oh, and she's a really good hugger. Because every FBI investigative team needs a hugger. For hugs.
“Sixteen percent of American men have blue eyes,” she informed me blithely. “But over forty percent of male TV doctors do.”
Sloane slipped an arm around my waist. “There are fourteen varieties of hugs,” she said. “This is one of them.”Criminal Minds does not try to slut-shame a girl
Agent Locke added, meeting Lia’s eyes, “she’s a very good liar.”Naturally, she's to be shamed for the way she dresses. Naturally she hits on the guys. Naturally, she eats ice cream for breakfast (in a sexual manner) and wears silk pajamas that leaves nothing to the imagination. Can we not do this, please? Can we just have normal characters who just happen to like dressing that way without writing it in a way so that the reader hates them?
Lia didn’t seem to take offense at the agent’s words. “I’m also bilingual,” she said. “And very, very flexible.”
The second very was aimed directly at Michael.
“Sloane slipped an arm around my waist. "There are fourteen varieties of hugs," she said. "This is one of them.”
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧