Twilight (Twilight, #1)

by Stephenie Meyer

“Holy crow!” I shouted. “Slow down!” “What’s wrong?” He was startled. But the car didn’t decelerate. “You’re going a hundred miles an hour!” I was still shouting. I shot a panicky glance out the window, but it was too dark to see much. The road was only visible in the long patch of bluish brightness from the headlights. The forest along both sides of the road was like a black wall—as hard as a wall of steel if we veered off the road at this speed. “Relax, Bella.” He rolled his eyes, still not slowing. “Are you trying to kill us?” I demanded. “We’re not going to crash.” I tried to modulate my voice. “Why are you in such a hurry?” “I always drive like this.” He turned to smile crookedly at me. “Keep your eyes on the road!” “I’ve never been in an accident, Bella—I’ve never even gotten a ticket.” He grinned and tapped his forehead. “Built-in radar detector.” “Very funny.” I fumed. “Charlie’s a cop, remember? I was raised to abide by traffic laws. Besides, if you turn us into a Volvo pretzel around a tree trunk, you can probably just walk away.” “Probably,” he agreed with a short, hard laugh. “But you can’t.” He sighed, and I watched with relief as the needle gradually drifted toward eighty. “Happy?” “Almost.” “I hate driving slow,” he muttered. “This is slow?” “Enough commentary on my driving,” he snapped. “I’m still waiting for your latest theory.”

About three things I was absolutely positive. First, Edward was a vampire. Second, there was part of him—and I didn’t know how potent that part might be—that thirsted for my blood. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.