Marco looked at me. ‘How do you grovel? I’ve never groveled before.’
'We don’t know how,’ I told the closest Helmacron. 'I mean, you know, different folks, different customs. Maybe you could show us.’
They looked at one another. Then the one I’d spoken to said, <You may grovel in the style of your own people. Grovel as you normally grovel.>
I saw the sly gleam in Marco’s eye. 'You heard the man, Cassie. Let’s grovel.’
He scooted his legs forward, lay on his back, stuck his hands behind his head, and relaxed like he was at the beach soaking up sun.
'I grovel before the mighty Helmacron captain, most mighty of the mighty, undisputed champion of the world in the dust-weight category! We grovel like the pitiful losers we are! We grovel like a guy who hasn’t got a date the day before the prom and the only girl around is the head cheerleader, that’s how much we grovel. Cassie, you could join in any time, you know.’
'We grovel…um, like grovelers.’
Marco turned his head to shoot me a disdainful look. 'Oh, good groveling. Put some feeling into it.’
'I grovel like, uh…like a person who is really, really groveling,’ I said lamely.
Meanwhile, Marco was, of course, getting into it. After all, he had an audience.
'O mighty Helmacron dead guy, we grovel like a video game addict trapped in an arcade without a quarter, that’s how much we grovel. You would not believe the depths of our grovelry! We grovel like a guy with a large order of fries and the only saltshaker is at the table of the school bully.'”
- Book #24: The Suspicion (Cassie), pg. 73 (by K.A. Applegate)
“At first, we did not understand,” he told me, still sounding faintly surprised. “We thought you would shift out when the witches had gone. We thought you were … grandstanding? Is that the word?”
“Look it up,” I told him harshly, and swung my legs out of bed.
“But then, when you did not … when we realized you would not, even to save yourself … it occurred to us that perhaps it is possible to be too cynical. To forget that not everyone thinks as we do.”
And he couldn’t have had that epiphany yesterday, I thought, pain twisting in my gut. I felt dizzy with it, aching. As if part of me had been carved out and left gasping on the floor. I wanted to scream, to rant, to throw things. I wanted to cry and never stop. I wanted him gone so I could curl around my hurt.
“You said several reasons?” I rasped.
“Yes. I wished, we wished, to give you this,” he said, taking out what looked like an eel-skin wallet, but probably wasn’t. And handing me something from inside.
It was a piece of paper. A lined bit of notebook paper, which seemed kind of chintzy for an ancient demon, but I didn’t care. Because all it had on it were a bunch of meaningless squiggles.
“What is this?” I demanded, thinking about tearing it up.
I looked at it blankly for a moment, and then up at him. I don’t know what was on my face, but he searched it for a long time. And then smiled slightly.
“That is what I meant. This is what I had … forgotten.” (Karen Chance, Tempt the Stars)
Half way there! This is the very unsubtle picture I posted to Facebook yesterday to inform my friends what I thought of their attempts to distract me. Luckily they took it in the manner in which it was intended.
ATTENTION ALL ACOMAF FANS. THIS BOOK IS WHAT YOU ALL NEED. IT IS SO SIMILAR TO ACOMAF IN SO MANY WAYS.
1. RES IS THE KING OF THE NIGHT COURT.
2. THE BOOK BEGINS WITH A BARGIN.
3. RES BARGINS CASSIE TO LIVE WITH HIM
4. SO MUCH MORE BUT I DONT WANT TO SPOIL
5. HE HAS WINGS. I REPEAT HE HAS WINGS.