Prom Nights from Hell
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Overview
In this exciting collection, bestselling authors Meg Cabot (How to Be Popular), Kim Harrison (A Fistful of Charms), Michele Jaffe (Bad Kitty), Stephenie Meyer (Twilight), and Lauren Myracle (ttyl) take bad prom nights to a whole new level--a paranormally bad level. Wardrobe malfunctions and two left feet don't hold a candle to discovering your date is the Grim Reaper--and he isn't here to tell you how hot you look.
From angels fighting demons to a creepy take on getting what you wish for, these five stories will entertain better than any DJ in a bad tux. No corsage or limo rental necessary. Just good, scary fun.
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Author Information
Bio of Meg Cabot
Meg Cabot was born on February 1, 1967, during the Chinese astrological year of the Fire Horse, a notoriously unlucky sign. Fortunately she grew up in Bloomington, Indiana, where few people were aware of the stigma of being a fire horse--at least until Meg became a teenager, when she flunked freshman Algebra twice, then decided to cut her own bangs. After six years as an undergrad at Indiana University, Meg moved to New York City (in the middle of a sanitation worker strike) to pursue a career as an illustrator, at which she failed miserably, forcing her to turn to her favorite hobby--writing novels--for emotional succor. She worked various jobs to pay the rent, including a decade-long stint as the assistant manager of a 700-bed freshmen dormitory at NYU, a position she still occasionally misses. She is now the author of nearly fifty books for both adults and teens, selling fifteen million copies worldwide, many of which have been #1 New York Times bestsellers, most notably The Princess Diaries series, which is currently being published in more than 38 countries, and was made into two hit movies by Disney. In addition, Meg wrote the Mediator and 1-800-Where-R-You? series (on which the television series Missing was based), two All-American Girl books, Teen Idol, Avalon High, How to Be Popular, Pants on Fire, Jinx, a series of novels written entirely in e-mail format (Boy Next Door, Boy Meets Girl, and Every Boy's Got One), a mystery series (Size 12 Is Not Fat/ Size 14 Is Not Fat Either/Big Boned), and a chick-lit series called Queen of Babble. Meg is now writing a new middle-grade series called Allie Finkle's Rules for Girls, as well as an edgy new YA series, Airhead, both of which debut in Spring of 2008. Her new paranormal series, Abandon, debuts in Summer of 2009. Meg currently divides her time between Key West, Indiana, and New York City, with a primary cat (one-eyed Henrietta), various back-up cats, and her husband, who doesn't know he married a Fire Horse. Please don't tell him.
Bio of Kim Harrison
Born and raised in Tornado Alley, Kim Harrison now resides in more sultry climes. The New York Times bestselling author of Dead Witch Walking, The Good, the Bad, and the Undead, and Every Which Way But Dead, she haunts the stores for leather boots and good music, and is hard at work on the next novel of the Hollows.
Bio of Stephenie Meyer
I was born in Connecticut in 1973, during a brief blip in my family's otherwise western U.S. existence. We were settled in Phoenix by the time I was four, and I think of myself as a native. The unusual spelling of my name was a gift from my father, Stephen (+ ie = me). Though I have had my name spelled wrong on pretty much everything my entire life long, I must admit that it makes it easier to google myself now. I filled the "Jan Brady" spot in my family-the second of three girls. Unlike the Brady's, none of my three brothers are steps, and all of them are younger than all the girls. I went to high school in Scottsdale, Arizona, the kind of place where every fall a few girls would come back to school with new noses and there were Porsches in the student lot (for the record, I have my original nose, and never had a car until after I was in my twenties). I was awarded a National Merit Scholarship, and I used it to pay my way to Brigham Young University, in Provo, Utah. I majored in English, but concentrated on literature rather than creative writing, mostly because I didn't consider reading books "work" (as long as I was going to be doing something anyway, I might as well get course credit for it, right?). I met my husband, Pancho (his real name is Christiaan), when I was four, but we were never anywhere close to being childhood sweethearts. In fact, though we saw each other at least weekly through church activities, I can't recall a single instance when we so much as greeted each other with a friendly wave, let alone exchanged actual words. This may have been for the best, because when we did eventually get around to exchanging words, sixteen years after our first meeting, it only took nine months from the first "hello" to the wedding. Of course, we were able to skip over a lot of the getting to know you parts (many of our conversations would go something like this: "This one time, when I was ten, I broke my hand at a party when-" "Yeah, I know what happened. I was there, remember?") We've been married for ten and a half years now, and have three beautiful, brilliant, wonderful boys who often remind me chimpanzees on crack. Gabe is eight, Seth is five, and Eli is three. My favorite authors/biggest influences are (in no particular order) Orson Scott Card, Jane Austen, William Shakespeare, Maeve Binchy, Charlotte Bronte, Daphne DuMaurier, L.M. Montgomery, Louisa May Alcott, Eva Ibbotson, William Goldman, Douglas Adams, Janet Evanovich... the list goes on, but I think I hit the highlights. I can't write without music, and my biggest muse is, ironically enough, the band Muse. My other favorite sources of inspiration are Linkin Park, My Chemical Romance, Coldplay, The All American Rejects, Travis, The Strokes, Brand New, U2, Kasabian, Jimmy Eat World, and Weezer, to mention a few. My favorite places to hang out on line are: www.fansofrealitytv.com (friendliest people on the internet, and also the best place for The Amazing Race, Survivor, and America's Next Top Model recaps. Not that I watch those shows...) www.ericdsnider.com (my favorite movie reviews) www.muse.mu (home of the incredible band, Muse. Absolution was easily the best alternative album of the year, and possibly the decade. Opinionated? Who, me?) www.ebay.com (no explanation needed, right?) www.imdb.com (where I search for actors to star in Twilight, not than anyone cares what I think.)
Bio of Lauren Myracle
Lauren Myracle is the author of many popular books for teens and tweens, including New York Times bestsellers Twelve, ttyl, and ttfn (Abrams). She lives with her family in Fort Collins, Colorado.
Bio of Michele Jaffe
Michele Jaffe is the author of Bad Kitty, Kitty Kitty, and the mangas Bad Kitty: Catnipped and Bad Kitty: Catnapped as well as several adult novels, including the thrillers Bad Girl and Loverboy. After getting her Ph.D. in Comparative Literature from Harvard, she retired from academia and decided to become an FBI special agent or glamorous showgirl but somehow ended up writing. A native of Los Angeles, CA, Michele and her sparkly shoes reside in New York City.
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Additional Info
Imprint
HarperCollins
Filesize
450.67 KB
Number of Pages
320
eBook ISBN
9780061659157
Excerpt from: Prom Nights from Hell by Meg Cabot
Mary
The music is pounding in time to my heartbeat. I can feel the bass in my chest--badoom, badoom. It's hard to see across the room of writhing bodies, especially with the fog from the dry ice, and the flickering light show coming down from the club's industrial ceiling overhead.
But I know he's here. I can feel him.
Which is why I'm grateful for the bodies grinding against one another all around me. They're keeping me hidden from his view--and from his senses. Otherwise he'd have smelled me coming by now. They can detect the scent of fear from yards away.
Not that I'm scared. Because I'm not.
Well. Maybe a little.
But I have my Excalibur Vixen crossbow 285 FPS with me, with a twenty-inch-long Easton XX75 (the tip, formerly gold, now replaced with hand-carved ash) already cocked and ready to be released at the merest pressure from my finger.
He'll never know what hit him.
And, hopefully, neither will she.
The important thing is to get a clean shot--which won't be easy in this crowd--and to make it count. I'll probably only get one chance to shoot. Either I'll hit the target . . . or he'll hit me.
"Always aim for the chest," Mom used to say. "It's the largest part of the body, and the spot you're least likely to miss. Of course, you're more likely to kill than wound if you aim for the chest rather than the thigh or arm . . . but what do you want to wound for, anyway? The point is to take 'em down."
Which is what I'm here to do tonight. Take 'im down.
Lila will hate me, of course, if she figures out what really happened . . . and that it was me who did it.
But what does she expect? She can't think that I'm just going to sit idly by and watch her throw her life away.
"I met this guy," she'd gushed at lunch today, while we were standing in line for the salad bar. "Oh my God, Mary, you wouldn't believe how cute he is. His name's Sebastian. He's got the bluest eyes you've ever seen."
The thing about Lila that a lot of people don't get is that beneath that--let's face it--slutty exterior beats the heart of a truly loyal friend. Unlike the rest of the girls at Saint Eligius, Lila's never pulled an attitude with me about the fact that my dad's not a CEO or plastic surgeon.
And yeah, okay, I have to tune out about three-fourths of what she says because most of it is stuff that I have no interest in--like how much she paid for her Prada tote at the end-of-season clearance sale at Saks, and what kind of tramp stamp she's thinking about getting next time she's in Cancun.
But this caught my attention.
"Lila," I said. "What about Ted?"
Because Ted's all Lila has talked about for the past year, ever since he finally got up the guts to ask her out. Well, I mean, all she's talked about besides the Prada sales and back tattoos.
"Oh, that's over," Lila said, reaching for the lettuce tongs. "Sebastian's taking me clubbing tonight--at Swig. He says he can get us in--he's on the VIP list."
It wasn't the fact that this guy, whoever he was, claimed to be on the VIP list of the newest and most exclusive club in downtown Manhattan that caused the hairs on the back of my neck to rise. Don't get me wrong--Lila's beautiful. If anyone is going to be ap-proached by a random stranger who happens to be on the most sought-after VIP list in town, it would be Lila.
It was the thing about Ted that got to me. Because Lila adores Ted. They're the quintessentially perfect high school couple. She's gorgeous, he's a star athlete . . . it's a match made in teen heaven.
Which is why what she was telling me did not compute.
"Lila, how can you say it's over between you and Ted?" I demanded. "You two have been going out forever"--or at least since I arrived at Saint Eligius Prep in September, where Lila was the first (and, to date, pretty much the only) girl in any of my classes to actually speak to me--"and it's the prom this weekend."
"I know," Lila said, with a happy sigh. "Sebastian's taking me."
"Seb--"
That's when I knew. I mean, really knew.
"Lila," I said. "Look at me."
Lila looked down at me--I'm small. But, as Mom used to say, I'm fast--and I saw it at once. What I should have seen from the beginning, that ever-so-slightly glazed expression--the dull eyes . . . the soft lips--that I've come to know so well over the years.
I couldn't believe it. He'd gotten to my best friend. My only friend.
Well. What was I supposed to do? Sit back and let him take her?
Not this time.
You'd think seeing a girl with a crossbow on the dance floor of Manhattan's hottest new club would maybe generate a comment or two. But it is Manhattan, after all. Besides, everyone is having too good a time to notice me. Even--
Oh God. It's him. I can't believe I'm finally seeing him in the flesh. . . .
Well, his son, anyway.
He's more handsome than I ever imagined. Golden-haired and blue-eyed, with movie star-perfect lips and shoulders a mile wide. He's tall, too--although most guys are tall--compared with me.













