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422 pages, Hardcover
First published January 28, 2014
“Compassion?” he hissed. “Why would you have sympathy for a monster?”*minor spoilers for the first 1/3 of the book*
“Because we’re not so different!"
"They’re calling him the Wolf of Whitechapel on account of how he carves up the bodies. One of them had a purse on him and a gold watch, but the murderer didn’t touch it. Wasn’t interested in anything but tearing that man apart like an animal.”There's something strange about the murders. The murderer has left a tropical flower on every body he kills. But Juliet knows there's something more to the murders, something that connects her to them.
Four. I knew all four victims.The victims all had wronged Juliet at one time or another in the past.
And in turn, I realized, I had been victim to each of them.
The Beast writhed on the floor, caught somewhere between man and creature in the midst of a transformation. He was doubled over in pain as claws slid into his bloody joints and then out again. His back buckled and strained as the two sides of him fought for control. In one instant he was the Beast, snarling and furious; in the next he was Edward, reaching out a hand toward me and trying to form words, and then back again.Edward's Beast is getting harder and harder to control. He is no longer able to hold back his need to kill. Edward needs Juliet's help to find a cure, and she is sympathetic to his cause, for she knows the feeling of desperation. Of loneliness.
“We’ll find the missing ingredient, and we’ll get rid of the Beast.” I realized how desperate my voice sounded. Desperate for him, or desperate for me, now that I had someone in my life who shared my secrets?But Edward's secret is not all that's at stake. Old friends, old lovers come back into her life. Her father's past comes to haunt her; Juliet has more enemies than she knows.
This is what had fascinated me about him—monster and man sharing the same breath—and now it terrified me.Juliet is fucking dumb sometimes, but she realizes it. Her stupid choices are made out of desperation, and sympathy for Edward, and I forgive her for it.
Well, I could be a monster, too.
I leaned my head back against the worn wood of the stairwell, eyes closed, uncertain if I was making the biggest mistake of my life by helping a murderer, or if I had found the one person in the world who understood me.She is strong, and she is willing to do what it takes to rid London of a murderer, even if it goes against her nature.
If we couldn’t strangle the Beast out of him, if there was no way to separate the two, then I’d kill him myself.Edward himself was such a well-rounded character, his split personalities well-drawn. The jealous, murderous, raging, seductive Beast versus the gentle creature who wants nothing more than to be a man.
You’ve always had that animal inside you, stirring, since you were an infant. It’s been more of a friend to you than any of those girls who titter behind their fans in church. You’re afraid that if you rid yourself of it, you’ll be hollow. A shell of a person content to let the days pass in boredom and chores, never really feeling, never truly living. Not like how I live."I loved the supporting characters in the book. They feel real to me; I understand them and I like them.
"I won’t let anything, or anyone, come between us."Seriously, I regret nothing.
His pupils were already starting to elongate. In moments the Beast would fully emerge. He leaned close enough that his lips grazed my earlobe. “I won’t let you go.”
"Me di cuenta de que había ido demasiado lejos, de que me había pasado. Me había herido y yo lo había herido a él, pero el amor nada tenía que ver con intercambiar golpes y hacerse daño"