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Dear Reader,
Here's where you can read excerpts of
Hazel and Daemon.
Excerpt 1, from Chapter One
Seventeen-year-old Hazel knew she wasn�t a good girl. Her father had left two years ago, her mother had a drinking problem, and Hazel�s idea about buying things was only buy it if you can�t steal it. She opened her purse, and took out her make-up case. She�d stolen this one a few weeks before, and her friend had been very jealous. She put some more dark blue eye shadow on, and then took her mascara out. She put it on extra heavy, and then put on as much of the red lipstick as she could. Her boyfriend, Ray, seemed to like it that way. Her shoulder-length dark hair was highlighted with a cheap bleaching kit a girl let her borrow. She was waiting for her friend at the door of the high school, staring at the graffiti on the walls, and trying to decide where she would get some cigarettes from this time, when Daemon Foster walked out of the building. He smiled at her, his backpack and jacket hanging over his shoulder. �Goody-goody,� she muttered in his direction, watching him walk out into the sunshine. His full head of light brown hair sparkled in the sunlight. He was the only boy in her grade that didn�t look at the magazines the others did, didn�t brag about going out with the girls, and was still a virgin. He didn�t mind telling the girls that, too, and then telling them about his God or something. Weird kid. Everyone called him names behind his back, and sometimes to his face. He was all of the teachers� pet, he did long reports on politics and stuff like that, he had gone on a trip to Brazil for something to do with his church, he walked his sister to and from the middle school every day, and he was polite. Definitely something wrong there. She�d never even heard him swear. On top of all that, he wore such boring, conservative clothes. Not that he wasn�t good looking. He had big blue-grey eyes, an always smiling mouth, and a rather small nose. He was thin and trim, and not very tall. She looked back into her mirror at her own deep brown eyes. She was getting what she wanted from life... or, was it really what she wanted? The guys noticed her. Somewhere, buried beneath all of that make-up, was the girl that had cried for two days when her father left.
Excert 2, from Chapter Nine
The next one to walk into view was a man wearing an open, button-down shirt and shorts. �Clean this mess up!� he shouted, and a maid came quickly to do his bidding. �And get me a drink!� �Mr. Landon, are you alright?� a tall man asked, wearing a black suit. Daemon stifled a laugh. This guy and the man standing next to him must be bodyguards. They looked exactly like everyone always imagined them to look. Very plain, tall, strong-looking, and grim. Daemon found himself thinking Invasion of the Body-Snatchers. �Yeah, yeah. Get me a drink. Hurry up!� Landon snapped, rubbing his throat. He saw Daemon standing there, holding the print, and rolled his eyes. He walked to him, ripped the paper from his hands, took a pen from the remaining body-guard, and scrawled his autograph across the top of the print. He put it back in Daemon�s hands, and walked away without a word. �No, sir�I wanted to give this to you!� Daemon called after him, feeling embarrassed to have to correct him. Landon stopped in his tracks and turned slowly around. �I�m your neighbor, Daemon Foster. You sent me a card, and I wanted to thank you.� �Oh,� Landon said, seeming surprised. He walked back to Daemon and looked up at him. He was barefoot, so his tiny height�really, probably five-two�was evident. Daemon suddenly felt big, for one of the first times in his life. Landon was in perfect proportion to his small height, but it was a little startling. He took the print back from Daemon, giving him a paper-cut in the process. �Hey, this is pretty. Did you do this?� he questioned. �Yes, I�m an artist. I was going to give this to you,� Daemon calmly explained, wiping the blood from his hand on a tissue in his pocket. Trace had a lot of fake blonde highlights in his hair; his hair was almost to his shoulders in the back. He had light green eyes and a very little-boyish look to himself. �Wow, this is great. You�ve got some talent�more then I have for acting!� Landon said, looking up and laughing. Daemon forced himself to laugh a little, too, but he felt very tense. �I might want to buy a big one of these, to hang on the wall. Do you have other paintings?�
