ppti.info Fitness The Host Book Pdf


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The characters and events in this book are fictitious. . “The soul we implant today deserves more respect than to have her host body gawked at this. a novel by “The soul we implant today deserves more respect than to have her host body “I heard she's never lived two terms as the same host species.”. The Host is a science fiction/romance novel by Stephenie Meyer. The novel introduces an alien race, called Souls, which takes over the Earth and its inhabitants.

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The Host (The Host, #1), The Seeker (The Host, #2), The Soul (The Host, #3), and The Host: The Official Illustrated Movie Companion. The Seeker book. Read reviews from the world's largest community for readers. When an unseen enemy threatens mankind by taking over their bodies and. The Host with Bonus Chapter - Stephenie ppti.info Report file. Uploaded by MrOpposite at File Size: MB. Download. © Host-A Hosting .

She doesn't know I'm here, but someday — someday soon — I will tell her about this moment. I'll tell her that I didn't want my body back until I knew I could use it to protect her.

He's more hesitant now; his fingers press only lightly against my arm. I don't turn. He waits silently. His fingers stay, soft against my skin. I take a few deep breaths and try to come to grips with this new reality. Wanda is safe, and I will bring her back. I am me again, what I always wanted. Jared is here with me. Our family is, thanks to Wanda, intact. I have everything. There is no one in my head but me. So of course I feel horribly alone. I don't know if I'm going to be able to stop crying.

I wish I could hear Wanda telling me that everything is okay. I promised her I would be happy, but I don't feel happy. Just lonely. It is quiet for a minute in Doc's cave. I can feel them hovering behind me, unsure. I don't entirely understand this. I'm sorry, I don't really.

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He's blushing a little, and he can't quite meet my eyes. And I believe I know how much it meant to her that I keep my promise. She wanted to die here.

Doc matches my glare for a moment, then sighs and shrugs. I hope she'll forgive me. I'm not quite ready for that. I look at the knife and then back at him. I raise one eyebrow, impressed in spite of myself. Jared seems surprised that I am surprised.

No matter what crazy plan she'd set in motion. And it's just like the moment when Jared snuck into Jamie's black sickroom and chloroformed Doc, and Wanda and I knew that he understood, that he believed, that he was who we needed him to he. He is my Jared, and of course he saved Wanda just the way I would have in his place.

I know what Wanda would say about this — about my finding comfort in violence — and it almost makes me smile. Jared sees this emotion fill my eyes, soften my face, and he takes that small step forward to put his arms around me — around both of us, since I'm still holding Wanda. This time, I let him. I more than let him — I melt into him, drying my tear-streaked face against his shoulder.

Jared kisses the top of my head. It's quiet. I hear the creaking of a cot, and I guess that Kyle is lying down, going back to sleep. That must be why he sounded so annoyed before.

The Host - book and movie

I woke him up. Who cares about all this drama with Doc and Jared and a new person he's never met, when he's missing sleep? I want to laugh at his self-absorption. I don't think I will make the allowances for Kyle that Wanda did. I'm not so forgiving. With my face still pressing into Jared's shoulder, I suddenly wonder what Doc thinks of this reunion.

I imagine him standing awkwardly, looking away. Or maybe I'm wrong and he's staring, trying to wrap his head around who I am now. Wanda imagined the way the humans would react to me. She expected me to be embraced by them, surrounded by them, trusted and celebrated. I wonder if she had it right. I can definitely feel a slight chilliness from Doc now, but maybe this is because of Jared and the knife, and not me at all.

Or maybe it has everything to do with me. Maybe Wanda's friends won't like me so much. All the best people here, I labeled them. Will any of them forgive me for taking her place? Stealing the body they think of as hers? Will Jamie? I think so. He loves me. I know that. But how will he feel when he sees Wanda in a small metal tank?

Will he be happy to have me back when — to him — I was never really gone?

We need a body. Jamie will be fine when Wanda herself tells him everything is okay. But Ian. I don't even want to think about Ian. He doesn't love me the way Jamie does. I don't think Ian even likes me. He might actually hate me. Or he will, when he wakes up and she's gone. I promised Wanda I would try to take care of Ian, but I feel in my bones that he won't allow that.

How can I apologize in any meaningful way while I'm standing in this body and Wanda's in a can? We need a body fast. There is another reason I don't want to think about Ian. I remember kissing him, just a few minutes ago, probably, and I remember it feeling right.

Part of me misses him already. Part of me wants him here. I shudder in Jared's arms, and he holds me tighter. I believe him. I inhale the scent of his skin and know this is where I want to be. I am too exhausted now to think about Ian. I am too tired to do anything but rest my head against Jared's arm and let him hold me.

This is going to be confusing.

Kyle's big voice, too loud even when he is trying to whisper, is pulling me into consciousness. I'm lying down. I feel disoriented, like the first time I woke up. How long have I been asleep now? Please, honey?

I need you to open your eyes.

I need you to do this for me, Jodi. Squeeze my hand. The tarps are still in place over the air vents.

They keep the sun from being too blinding. It's morning, but the light is yellow and not orange. Well past dawn. I guess it's not surprising that I slept so long; Wanda was up for days in this body. It was worn through. But this is terrible timing for a sleep-in day.

Will Ian be up? Is he looking for me?

Not for me. For Wanda. I sit up too fast, and my head spins while I search the cave for Wanda. I spy the tank on the cot next to mine. She's not going anywhere. He is smiling, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

There is still a residue of caution in those eyes, He isn't sure he knows me as well as he did before. He's not sure how much Wanda has changed me. There is a purple bruise forming across his right cheekbone. I clear the sleep from my throat and croak, "Sorry. And thanks. The way he says the words makes them into something more than reassurance. It's almost a challenge. I roll my eyes. This is all he needs. He pulls me off the cot and into his chest. I hug him back, but it feels like cheating.

I don't get to enjoy anything yet. There is too much I've put off while I slept. It hangs over me like a jail sentence.

Something that must be endured before anything else can continue. Talk to me. I see a doubt on his face that has never been there before. The longer I wait to tell him —" "It's still early. He might not be up yet. Let's go look for him.

I have to explain.

His words are slower and more deliberate than usual. Real angry. That would hurt him more. And also sure that I have nothing physical to fear from Ian. I know him better than that. This is straightforward. He just needs to hear it from me first. That doubt is there again. I don't think there is anything I can say to take it away. Words are not enough, especially after this long year of someone else's words coming out of my mouth.

Eventually, Jared will be sure that nothing has changed between us just because Wanda was in my body when she fell in love with Ian. Time and action — those are the things that will convince him.

And me. I take his face between my hands and kiss him once mouth, and then a second time lightly — just touching my lips to his bruise. The sensation of the jail sentence is too strong for me to linger, though. I have to get this over with before I can really let myself feel him here with me. I can't be happy with this looming over me. The pleasure is corrupted to the point where it's pain. Jared squeezes my arm as I turn away from him.

I walk past Doc, who is snoring quietly on the last cot. I head out into the long southern tunnel and am immediately hit with a heavy sense of the surreal. I never expected to do this again — walk through this darkness.

The last time felt so final. Rationally, I must have been aware that the whole point was for me to wake up, get off the cot, and walk back into the caves.

But it feels impossible and strange and wrong now. The tunnel is long again and a little bit frightening, the way it hadn't been for Wanda for a long time. As I walk quickly, my mind races ahead to what I am going to say to Ian. Will he still be asleep? Should I knock? I can't remember if Wanda put the door back in place when she left. I picture him, his limbs flung out on the mattress the way he always sleeps, his black hair sticking out in wild tufts, his pale eyelids shut.

It is easier to imagine him with his eyes closed. I am afraid to see his bright blue eyes, because I know how the pain will look in those eyes. The pain and the anger and all the accusations that I absolutely deserve. I start walking faster, almost jogging. I want to get to him before he wakes up. I want to have a few seconds to see his face before he opens his eyes and starts hating me.

I'm jogging outright when I turn the corner into the bright plaza. It will be my first time in this room and also my thousandth. I am pondering this as I run smack into Ian. He catches my arms automatically, to keep me from falling backward.

He looks down and begins a smile. The expression freezes on his face. His hands drop from my arms like he's just gotten an electric shock. Though I know I look exactly the same as Wanda — without direct light, my eyes don't give me away — it's clear that he knows.

He knew the second he touched me, and the information only reached his brain after he'd started that smile. He steps back from me, still half smiling, though there is no humor in his expression at all. It's like the rictus grin of a corpse left unfinished by an indifferent mortician. We stare at each other. I can't tell how long we stand like this.

His smile gets more and more painful by the second, until I can't bear it. Finally I speak, babbling the first words I can think of. She's in a tank. We'll get her a body. She'll be fine. She's fine. Barely more than a whisper. As I speak, his face relaxes. Sort of.

The hard smile dissolves, the corners of his mouth sag down. His frozen blue eyes thaw out. But his face also tenses in new ways. Lines around the edges of his eyes. Black brows align into one long block.

He doesn't answer. We stare at each other again, but it's not the motionless, icy thing it was before. My arms ache to reach out to him.

To exercise some physical expression of comfort. I half lift them and drop them again. My hands twitch toward him, and I ball them into fists.

He is moving in almost the same way. He leans toward me just a little, then recoils subtly. He does this three times as we face each other. I wait for his accusations: You made her suffer because of me. You were petty. You knew her weak points and you used them. You let her sacrifice herself. She's a hundred times the person you are. All true. I will not argue with him. I will plead guilty.

He doesn't say anything. Is this restraint for her sake, because he knows she wouldn't approve? Or is he just being polite, the way you are to a stranger? He still doesn't speak, and I start to wonder if he simply can't. If there are no words for the pain that is easy to read, now, in his eyes.

He doesn't answer, but the pain in his eyes shifts a little. His hand rises slightly, then falls. I turn halfway, back toward the southern tunnel. I take a step sideways, leading. He follows with one jerky motion. Walking slowly, still sideways, I move into the darkness. He follows, his stride becoming more sure.

Once we're in the dark, I turn to face forward. I keep my tread light, listening to be sure he is with me.

His footsteps sound stronger. He starts to speed up. After a few moments, I'm following him. In the dark it is easier.

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Like his eyes are closed. We walk in silence, but it feels more comfortable. I was invisible to him before, but I was always there, walking beside him. It feels the same now that I'm invisible again. He surprises me by — after a short hesitation — answering me. I wonder what it's like for him, hearing my voice. He sounds like my friend, but I must sound like something very different to him.

After a minute, he does. You knew her every thought. The soles of his shoes are suddenly hitting harder against the stone floor, and I have to move faster to keep up with him. That other plan — the one that was never more than a fabrication in our head — is so far from my thoughts that it takes me a second to understand.

He says nothing, but his silence is a question. He walks slower again. I try to explain. She wanted to stay here. She planned to, well, be buried here.

With Walter and Wes. He's stopped altogether. I hurry to explain. Doc put her in a tank. First thing. She felt like she would be hurting you more if she stayed here. How could she want to die rather than leave? His words are sharp. I have no right to get mad at Ian.

It left my soul bleeding, it left me all teary-eyed. Can you do that for me? But humans are such tricky creatures, they feel with their heart, their mind and their soul, so there was little she could do when she started to feel love too.

When it comes to love things get complicated, because Wanda understood something that YA characters seem to miss by a lot: the fact that someone needs to deserve your love. But also she realized that love is something that you might win or lose, that you have to deserve it, you have to fight for it, you have to treat it right. I would have hated her for loving Jared after all the bad treatment. She saw the world through those eyes, she learned to move in that body, to talk and so on, and she felt so good being herself.

It was not only after she was able to make comparisons, but from the beginning she did appreciate what she had. They were not calling to me; they were letting me go, leaving me to the black universe I had wandered for so many lifetimes. I drifted into the black, and it got brighter and brighter.

Warm, vibrant, brilliant blue…I floated into it with no fear at all. I can only admire her for keeping her promises and I forgive her for her weaknesses, because in her place I would have done probably just the same. She was torn between people accepting Wanda and staying close to her, but too much closeness hurt when it was meant for Wanda and not for her.

She longed for Jared to care for her, but she was afraid that he might fall for Wanda too. Some times I wanted her to be a bit more considerate but then, when I think about it, I see how that would have felt like giving up. If he were to be replaced by someone else, she would end up buried in her own body forever. The friendship between Wanda and Mel started way before getting to the caves, it overcame a few bumps on the road and it grew stronger and stronger.

You might feel like the resolution was too simple, but it was the journey that mattered not the destination, and if some have the illusion that it was a happy ending, they are far from the truth. In the end the characters have lost much more than what they won. They have scars all over their souls, there are horrible mistakes tattooed on their minds; there is forgiveness but how much can one forget; there is reward but there was also so much loss.

For them it was simple, each wanted something different, but he was the one feeling both hope and despair all on his own. When Wanda came into his life first was the sock, the stillness. I assume that it broke him just as much as it did for the girls. Then there was the range. The person coming back was not who he wanted, but instead was the one that took everything for him and she was rubbing it in his face with her simple presence… She was the one that killed his own soul, if he believed in such things.

He was tortured, torn between protecting the body he loved so much and hating the person inside with all that he had. Imagine having two minds of your own, or imagine your heart wanting one thing so badly and your brain killing its own neurons over the things you know to be right. In this futuristic word things are simple: shoot first, ask questions later.

The Host with Bonus Chapter - Stephenie Meyer.pdf

No matter how well you hide. Of course, over the time he started to see Wanda for what she really was, he started to see that there was more to her, more humanity that ever crossed his mind. But she was no Melanie and as long as he lived all he wanted was to break her free, no matter at what costs.

It is easy to judge Jared for his violent behaviour, I wanted to punch him myself more than once, but trying to imagine the world he was living in I could see how different he was from any man in our present days and how I needed to change perspective to understand him better. Sometimes I wonder about his feelings for Wanda, it is clear how much he loved Melanie and always will, but Wanda changed him clearly. Not to mention that he owes her everything and I mean that.

My patience was not waning, but entirely gone. In my species, I am the one that bears young. Is that not female enough for you? I felt almost smug. Thank you. IAN This time I was the one conflicted. I liked Ian most of the time and I was glad to see someone care for Wanda so much.

But some times he was a bit too good to be true. I guess that the episodes from the beginning were meant to compensate for this side of him — too trusting, way too forgiving. Jamie and Jared made things easy for him, bringing back someone that would match the pure soul Wanda had, but still for us humans love has a lot to do with attraction too. The one thing that really bugged me was the possessiveness — I know he wanted the best for Wanda, but come on!

She had a mind of her own, she could make decisions on her own. Between him and Jared, I just wished for a planet without men. But still, Wanda needed something real in her life.I pull her tank carefully into my arms and hold her tight. The fandom is practically dead. Very disappointed in her.

Rationally, I must have been aware that the whole point was for me to wake up, get off the cot, and walk back into the caves. Azrah Juliette wrote: Enter here no purchase necessary. So, I will just assume that this will never be published. Doubted Chapter Jared kisses the top of my head.

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