Visit the official site at www.thetwilightsaga.com
Acknowledgments
A huge thank you to:
my parents, Steve and Candy,
for a lifetime of love and support,
for reading great books to me when I was young,
and for still holding my hand through the
things that make me nervous;
my husband, Pancho, and my sons, Gabe, Seth, and Eli, for sharing me so often with my imaginary friends;
my friends at Writers House,
Genevieve Gagne-Hawes, for giving me that first chance,
and my agent Jodi Reamer, for turning the most
unlikely dreams into realities;
my editor Megan Tingley, for all her help in
making Twilight better than it started out;
my brothers, Paul and Jacob, for their expert advice on all
my automotive questions; and my online family, the talented staff and writers at fansofrealitytv.com,particularly Kimberly “Shazzer,” and Collin “Mantenna”for the encouragement, advice,
and inspiration.
Copyright
Text copyright © 2006 by Stephenie Meyer
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Little, Brown and Company
Hachette Book Group
237 Park Avenue, New York, NY 10017
Visit our website at www.HachetteBookGroup.com
First eBook Edition: July 2007
ISBN: 978-0-316-00772-6
NEW MOON
Cover
Copyright
Dedication
Epigraph
PREFACE
1. PARTY
2. STITCHES
3. THE END
OCTOBER
NOVEMBER
DECEMBER
JANUARY
4. WAKING UP
5. CHEATER
6. FRIENDS
7. REPETITION
8. ADRENALINE
9. THIRD WHEEL
10. THE MEADOW
11. CULT
12. INTRUDER
13. KILLER
14. FAMILY
15. PRESSURE
16. PARIS
17. VISITOR
18. THE FUNERAL
19. RACE
20. VOLTERRA
21. VERDICT
22. FLIGHT
23. THE TRUTH
24. VOTE
EPILOGUE—TREATY
Discussion Questions
Acknowledgments
ECLIPSE
BREAKING DAWN
For my dad, Stephen Morgan—
No one has ever been given more loving and unconditional support than I have been given by you.I love you, too.
These violent delights have violent ends
And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,
Which, as they kiss, consume.
Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene VI
PREFACE
I FELT LIKE I WAS TRAPPED IN ONE OF THOSE TERRIFYING nightmares, the one where you have to run, run till your lungs burst, but you can’t make your body move fast enough. My legs seemed to move slower and slower as I fought my way through the callous crowd, but the hands on the huge clock tower didn’t slow. With relentless, uncaring force, they turned inexorably toward the end—the end of everything.
But this was no dream, and, unlike the nightmare, I wasn’t running for my life; I was racing to save something infinitely more precious. My own life meant little to me today.
Alice had said there was a good chance we would both die here. Perhaps the outcome would be different if she weren’t trapped by the brilliant sunlight; only I was free to run across this bright, crowded square.
And I couldn’t run fast enough.
So it didn’t matter to me that we were surrounded by our extraordinarily dangerous enemies. As the clock began to toll out the hour, vibrating under the soles of my sluggish feet, I knew I was too late—and I was glad something bloodthirsty waited in the wings. For in failing at this, I forfeited any desire to live.
The clock tolled again, and the sun beat down from the exact center point of the sky.
1. PARTY
I WAS NINETY-NINE POINT NINE PERCENT SURE I WAS dreaming.
The reasons I was so certain were that, first, I was standing in a bright shaft of sunlight—the kind of blinding clear sun that never shone on my drizzly new hometown in Forks, Washington—and second, I was looking at my Grandma Marie. Gran had been dead for six years now, so that was solid evidence toward the dream theory.
Gran hadn’t changed much; her face looked just the same as I remembered it. The skin was soft and withered, bent into a thousand tiny creases that clung gently to the bone underneath. Like a dried apricot, but with a puff of thick white hair standing out in a cloud around it.
Our mouths—hers a wizened pucker—spread into the same surprised half-smile at just the same time. Apparently, she hadn’t been expecting to see me, either.
I was about to ask her a question; I had so many—What was she doing here in my dream? What had she been up to in the past six years? Was Pop okay, and had they found each other, wherever they were?—but she opened her mouth when I did, so I stopped to let her go first. She paused, too, and then we both smiled at the little awkwardness.