UNCATEGORIES

⇤ Reading ᠕ My Sweet Audrina (The Audrina Series Book 1) (English Edition) for kids ↺ E-Pub Author V.C Andrews ∐

⇤ Reading ᠕ My Sweet Audrina (The Audrina Series Book 1) (English Edition) for kids ↺ E-Pub Author V.C Andrews ∐ ⇤ Reading ᠕ My Sweet Audrina (The Audrina Series Book 1) (English Edition) for kids ↺ E-Pub Author V.C Andrews ∐ My Sweet Audrina Whitefern There was something strange about the house where I grew up There were shadows in the corners and whispers on the stairs and time was as irrelevant as honesty Though how I knew that I couldnt say There was a war going on in our house, a silent war that sounded no guns, and the bodies that fell were only wishes that died and the bullets were only words and the blood that spilled was always called pride Though Id never been to schooland I was seven years old and it was high time I was in schoolit seemed I knew all about the Civil War Around me the Civil War was still being waged, and though the future might stretch ahead for billions of years, it was still the war wed never forget, for our pride had been injured, and our passions were lingering on Wed lost the battle better won by the opposite side Maybe thats why it still kept hurting Momma and my aunt Ellsbeth always said that men liked violent discussions about wars better than any other topic, but if there were other wars of any importance at all, they were never discussed in our house Papa would read any book, see any movie, cut out any magazine photo that represented that war between brothers, even though his ancestors had fought against my maternal ones He was Yankee born, but a Southerner by preference At the dinner table hed recount the plots of the long novels he read about General Robert E Lee and give grisly accounts of all the bloody battles And if most of what he read charmed me, it did not charm either my aunt, who preferred the television, or my mother, who preferred to read her own books, claiming Papa left out the best parts, which werent fit for young ears to hear That meant my ears, and my cousin Veras ears Though most of the world believed Vera to be my sister, I knew she was my unmarried aunts illegitimate daughterand that we had to shield her from the scorn of society by pretending she was my legitimate older sister I did have a legitimate older sister, too, but she had died before I was born Her name was also Audrina, and even though she had been dead a long time, still she lingered on My papa never forgot the first and best Audrina, and still hoped that someday I would be as special as she was My cousin Vera liked people to think she was my sister I didnt know her true age, for she refused to tell me that Nobody in our house ever revealed their ages Only my age was talked about all the time It was Veras boast that she could be any age she wanted to beten, twelve, fifteen, and even twenty With a few elegant and sophisticated postures, truly she did change her manner and expression She could look very matureor very childlikedepending on her mood She liked to ridicule me because I was so uncertain about time Often Vera told me Id hatched full blown from a giant ostrich egg at the age of seven She always said that I had inherited that birds famous habit of sticking its head in the sand and pretending nothing in the world was wrong She didnt know about my dreams and the ugliness they gave me From the very beginning, I knew Vera was my enemy even when she pretended to be my friend Though I wanted her for my friend in the worst way, I knew she hated me She was jealous because I was an Audrina and she wasnt Oh, how I wanted Vera to like and admire me, as sometimes I really liked and admired her I envied her, too, because she was normal and didnt have to try to be like someone who was dead No one seemed to care if Vera wasnt special No one except Vera Vera was fond of telling me that I wasnt really special, either, I was merely strange To tell the truth, I thought there was something strange about me, too I seemed to be unable to recall anything about my early childhood I couldnt remember anything about the pastwhat I had done the week or even the day before I didnt know how I had learned the things I knew, or why I seemed to know some things I shouldnt The many clocks scattered throughout our giant house confused me even The grandfather clocks in the halls chimed out different hours the cuckoos in their wooden Swiss clocks popped in and out of small ornate doors, each contradicting all the others the fancy French clock in my parents bedroom had stopped long ago at midnight or noon, and a Chinese clock ran backwards To my great distress, though I searched everywhere, there were no calendars in our house, not even old ones And the newspapers never came on the day they were due Our only magazines were old ones, stacked in closets, hidden in the attic Nobody threw anything away in our house It was kept, saved for our descendents, so they could sell it one day and make a fortune Much of my insecurity had to do with the first Audrina, who had died exactly nine years before I was born She had died mysteriously in the woods after cruel and heartless boys had spoiled her in some indescribable way, and because of her, I was never supposed to enter the woods, even to go to school And the woods were all around us, almost smothering us They embraced us on three sides, the River Lyle on the fourth To go anywhere we had to travel through the woods Everywhere in our home photographs of the First and Best Audrina were scattered On Papas desk, there were three framed portraits of her, at age one, two and three There was not one single baby picture of me, not one, and that hurt The First Audrina had been a beautiful little girl, and when I looked at her photographs, I felt oddly haunted, wanting to be her so badly I ached inside I wanted to be her so Id feel as loved, as special as everyone said she had been and then again, contrarily, I wanted than anything to be myself, and on my own merits gain the love I felt denied me Oh, the tales Papa could tell me about the wonders of his first daughter, and everyone he told made me know I was not the Best Audrina, not the perfect and special oneonly the second and the inferior one My parents kept the first Audrinas bedroom like a shrine for a dead princess It was left exactly as it had been on the day she met her fate, which was never explained in detail to me That room was so full of toys it seemed a playroom than a bedroom Momma herself cleaned that room, and she hated housework Just to see her room made me realize nothing had been too good for her, while my bedroom lacked toy shelves, and her vast array of playthings I felt cheated, cheated of a real childhood Audrina the First and Best had stolen my youth, and everyone talked so much about her that I couldnt remember anything about me I believed it was because of her that my memory was so full of holes Papa would try to fill those holes by putting me in her rocking chair and making me rock and sing until I became the empty pitcher that would fill with everything He wanted me to fill with her memories and capture her special powers since she was dead and didnt need them any And as if one ghost werent enough, we had a second who came every Tuesday at four Teatime, we called Aunt Mercy Maries day There shed sit on the piano, in her black and white photograph in a silver frame, her fat face beaming a vacuous smile, her pale blue eyes staring out as if she could see us, when she couldnt She was dead, and yet undead, just like my dead sister My aunt and my mother would speak for Aunt Mercy Marie, and through her they would let loose all the venom they held back and saved for teatimes Strangely enough, my cousin Vera enjoyed these Tuesday teatimes so much shed find any reason to play hookey from school, just to be there and hear all the ugly things my mother and her half sister could say to one another They were White fern sisters, and once upon a far ago time, that had meant something wonderful Now it meant something sad, but they would never tell me exactly what Long ago the Whitefern family had been the most notable family in our Tidewater section of Virginia, giving the country senators and vice presidents But wed fallen out of favor not just with the villagers, but also with everyone, and we were no longer honored, or even respected Our house was far from the nearest city of any size Whitefern Village was fifteen miles down a lonely country road, but we seldom went there It was as if long ago some secret war had been declared, and we in our castle as Papa liked to call our home were hated by the serfs in the lowlands If anyplace in our vicinity could be called highlands it was the slight hill on which Whitefern sat Papa had to drive thirty miles to and from his stock brokerage office All the friends we had lived in the city Our nearest neighbors were twelve miles away as a car drove, five as a crow flew Papa drove our only car to work, leaving all of us without transportation So often my aunt Ellsbeth would bemoan the day shed sold her small car to buy the TV set My aunt, whod never been married, loved her portable television set with a twelve inch screen She seldom allowed me to watch, though her daughter, Vera, could watch as much as she liked when she was home from school That was another thing I couldnt understand why Vera was allowed to go to school when I couldnt go School was dangerous for me, but not for Vera Naturally I presumed there had to be something terribly wrong with me My parents had to hide me away to keep me safe, if not from outsiders, then from myself That was the scariest thought of all At the age of seven, while other children boarded yellow buses and rode off giggling and having fun, I sat down at the kitchen table and was taught how to read, write, add and subtract by my mother, who played the piano beautifully but was not good at teaching anything but how to play the piano Fortunately, or maybe not, my aunt Ellsbeth was there to help She had once been a grade school teacher with ready slaps to deliver any boy who dared to call her a nasty name Just one slap too many, and the parents had seen that my aunt was fired Though she tried for many a year to find another teaching position, the word was out My aunt had a ferocious temper and a ready hand Aunt Ellsbeth, like her daughter, Vera, also had ready comments to criticize our way of living According to my aunt we were all as antediluvian as the house in which we lived Out of sync with the rest of the world, shed say In my dreams of home, Whitefern loomed up high and white against a dark and stormy sky, frightening to behold It threatened in the night, but in the day it welcomed me with open arms I had a habit of sitting outside on the lawn and admiring the grandness of Whitefern It was a gingerbread Victorian house of many frills, with its white paint peeling, its dark blinds loose and crooked It had three stories, with an attic and a basement toward the back half of the house where the spacious lawn inclined toward the River Lyle As I stared at that house, I thought I had much in common with it We were both antediluvian and out of sync Our windows were myriad, many of them beautiful stained glass The shutters, about to fall off, were so darkly red they appeared black from a distance, like dried blood From the outside the most marvelous thing of all were the balustrades on all the many porches, balconies and verandas, designed to look like stylized woodferns In the very center of the dark roof was a round cupola with a copper roof now turned green from tarnish It formed a point that was topped by a golden ball whose gold leaf was coming off bit by bit each time it rained The cupola was about fourteen feet in diameter, and every single one of its many windows was made of leaded stained glass with scenes to represent the angels of life and death Inside and out, ferns cascaded everywhere from wicker stands There were other plants, but the ferns seemed to steal what moisture there was in the air so soon all other plants died On stealthy, timid feet I played my small lonely games in the great foyer where the stained glass from the double front doors threw colorful patterns on the floor Rapier sharp colors sometimes, stabbing into my brain and punching holes there I also had little rhymes Vera had taught me that I said to protect myself from the colors Step on black, live forever in a shack.Step on green, never be clean.Step on blue, work will never be through.Step on yellow, hear the world bellow.Step on red, soon be dead Just so I wouldnt have to step on any color, I stole along near the walls, keeping to the shadows, listening to the clocks ticking away the wrong times and the silly cuckoos going crazy in the night When the wind blew hard, the shutters banged and the floors creaked, the furnace in the basement coughed, sputtered, groaned, and the wind chimes in the cupola tinkled, tinkled Yet in the daytime there were things so wondrously grand in our house that I felt like Alice lost in a house of jewels Art deco lamps and objets dart were scattered hither and yon Tiffany lamps rose up to throw colors, to pattern the walls Crystal prisms dangled from lamp shades, from wall sconces, from chandeliers, from gaslamps, catching colors, refracting rainbows that flashed like lightning whenever sunlight managed to steal through the lace curtains We had a fireplace in every room There were eight of marble, many of elegantly carved wood and none were made of brick Brick was not elegant enough for our type of house that seemed to despise simplicity Our ceilings were high, and carved with elaborate designs, making frames for Biblical or romantic scenes In the olden days people had, or so it seemed to my young eyes, either too many clothes on, or too little that wanted to stay in place I wondered why the Biblical scenes usually had flesh showing than the ones where people were decidedly wicked One could hardly believe those near naked people were sincerely trying to follow where God would lead them Bare bosoms of impressive proportions protruded brazenly in every room of our house but mine George Washington and Thomas Jefferson and several other dead eyed presidents gazed day after day at the naked lady lying on a chaise across the way as she forever dropped grapes into her gaping mouth Naked baby boys flew about shamelessly shooting aimless arrows But the men always modestly hid their maleness behind some strategically placed leaf or graceful flow of drapery Women were not so apt to hide what they had, Id often thought as I gazed at them They looked shy, but acted bold Aunt Ellsbeth had come up behind me once and explained bitterly that since most artists were men, it was only natural for them to delight in exploiting the nude female figure Dont judge women by what you see in paintings and statues Judge them only by what you yourself know about the women in your life The day any man understands any woman will be the day the world comes to an end Men are hateful, contrary creatures who say they want goddesses to put on pedestals Once they have them up there, they rip off the halo, tear off the gown, slice off the wings so they cant fly and then kick the pedestal away so the woman falls at his feet and he can scream out as he kicks her, tramp or worse To hear my aunt Ellsbeth talk one would think shed been married a dozen or times, and one thousand men had disappointed her As far as I knew, only one man had Our furniture had many styles, all of them fancy It seemed each chair, each table, each sofa, lamp, pillow, hassock, desk was in competition, trying to outdo the others Although Aunt Ellsbeth complained about the furniture, Momma would catch hold of my hand and lead me reverently from room to room, explaining that this table was a Renaissance Revival centerpiece, made by Berkey and Gay, Grand Rapids, Michigan All antiques, Audrina All worth their weight in gold The bed in my room is five hundred years old Once kings and queens slept behind its curtains Behind us my aunt would snort her contempt and disbelief Other people had electricity in all their rooms we had electricity only in our kitchen and bathrooms In other rooms we used gaslamps because Momma thought them flattering to her complexion My aunt thought them a pain in But I wasnt supposed to use some of the words my aunt said readily Even than gaslamps, Momma loved candles burning, and logs in the fireplace snapping and crackling and making shadows dance on the dark paneled walls Our kitchen stuck out like a sore thumb with all its modern gadgets that made life bearable for Momma, who hated any kind of hard work but loved cooking the gourmet meals my father had to have The room we all favored most was the Roman Revival Salon On its royal purple velvet lounging chaise with the gold cording tarnished and falling off where it wasnt fastened by fancy tassels, Momma would lie dressed in some filmy negligee, or a soft summer dress She didnt seem to notice that the stuffing was coming out and the springs poked through in a few places Sprawled elegantly on that chaise, shed read her romances and occasionally lift her eyes to stare dreamily off into space I guessed she was imagining herself in the arms of the handsome lover on the colorful cover of her paperback novel I told myself bravely that someday I was going to have the nerve to read novels like that, wicked and beautiful at the same timethough how I knew they were wicked books I couldnt say, since Id never read one But almost naked people on the cover seemed awfully wicked Papas huge round home office, directly under the cupola, held thousands of old old books, and many fine editions of classics that nobody read but me and Aunt Ellsbeth Papa said he didnt have time to read them, but he kept on adding to our leather bound collection as if hoping all his friends would think he read them Momma hid her paperbacks in her bedroom closets and pretended that she, too, loved the high minded tales printed on fine paper and bound with beautiful leather Some of those classic books contained very wicked material, according to my cousin Vera, who always informed me about what was, or was not, wicked I liked to watch Momma lying on her couch Behind her was a concert sized grand piano that her father had given her when she had won a gold metal in a music competition Many a time shed told me she could have gone on to play in all the best concert halls, but Papa hadnt wanted a professional musician for his wife Dont expect to have too many talents, Audrina Men wont approve if its likely youll earn money than they do Downward her hand would drift Without even looking, she would cleverly find the very piece of chocolate she wanted and pop it into her mouth My father often warned her about eating too much chocolate and becoming fat, but she never did My mother was tall, curvy where she should be and slender in all the places a woman should be My papa often told me she was the greatest beauty on the East Coast and had been the catch of the season at her debutante ball Many a handsome and rich man had asked for my mommas hand in marriage, but it had been Damian Jonathan Adare who had swept my mother off her feet with his dashing dark good looks and his winning charm He towered over every other man in my life, Audrina, my mother would tell me When your father came back from the sea, all the girls went gaga just to have him in the room I felt so lucky when he had eyes only for me Then shed frown as if remembering some other girl Papa might have had eyes for Vera liked to joke that my father had married my mother only because he admired her hair color so much Witchy hair, Vera called Mommas hair and mine Chameleon hair, Papa often called it It was strange hair, and at times I believed Vera was right Our hair didnt know which color it was supposed to be, and was, instead, all colors Flaxen blonde, with gold, auburn, bright red, chestnut brown, copper and even some white Papa loved the strange prismlike color of our hair I believed hed ordered God to give me the kind of hair I had if He hadnt, Papa might have sent me back For the first Audrina also had chameleon hair My papa, six foot five and weighing well over two hundred pounds, was the tallest man I had ever seen, though Vera was always telling me there were many men who were taller, especially basketball players Papas hair was the darkest black, looking blue sometimes in the sunlight He had beautiful almond shaped eyes, so brown they appeared black, and his lashes were so long and thick they appeared false, even though they werent I knew Id tried to pull them off after I saw Momma glue some false ones on His eyes were slick as oil, scary and wonderful, especially when they glittered He had smooth, soft skin that often appeared ruddy in the winters, and richly bronze in the summers When Momma was displeased with Papa and his selfish ways of spending on himself than on her, shed call him a dandy and a fop, though what those words meant I didnt know I suspected she meant that my huge, powerful papa cared about clothes than he cared about principles He feared growing old, especially feared losing his hair He checked his hairbrush each day, almost counting the hairs he found there He saw the dentist four times a year He flossed his teeth so often Momma grew disgusted His doctor checked him over as much as the dentist did He fretted about minor flaws no one would ever notice but him, such as thick, horny toenails he had difficulty clipping Yet when he smiled, his charm was irresistible Principles were another thing I didnt understand, except Momma often said that Papa lacked them Again I vaguely guessed she meant Papa wanted what he wanted, and no one had better get in his way and try to prevent him from taking what he had to have Yet, sometimes when he was with me, and he was tender and loving, hed give me my way But only sometimes There were other timesterrible other times It had been agreed when my aunt came back to live here when Vera was only one year old that she would do all the housework in exchange for her board and keep, while my mother did the cooking Unreasonably, my aunt wanted to do the cooking which she considered easier instead of the housework, but no one could eat anything my aunt prepared Momma despised housework, but she could throw anything into a pot or bowl without measuring and it would come out tasting divine Papa said she was a creative cook, because she had an artists mind, while Ellie as only he called her was born to be some mans slave How my aunt glared when he said mean things like that My aunt was a fearsome woman Tall, lean and mean was my fathers description Its no wonder no man wants to marry you, my father often teased my aunt Youve got the tongue of a shrew Not only did she have a sharp tongue, as mean for me as for Vera, but she also had her golden rule about sparing the rod and spoiling the child Neither Vera nor I were spared when she was in charge Fortunately my parents seldom left us alone with her In some ways, it seemed my aunt disliked her daughter even than she disliked me It had always been my belief that women were born to be loving mothers Then, when I gave that thought, I couldnt remember how I had arrived at that conclusion Momma liked for my aunt to chastise Vera, so then she could open her arms wide and welcome Vera into them, saying time and again to Vera, Its all right, Ill love you even if your own mother cant Thats the weakness of being you, Lucietta, said my aunt sharply You can give love to anything As if her own daughter, Vera, was less than human Never would my aunt Ellsbeth name the man who was Veras father He was a cheat and a liar I dont want to remember his name, shed say with scorn It was so difficult to understand what was going on in our house Treacherous undercurrents, like the rivers that ran into the sea that wasnt so very far away It was true my aunt was tall, her face was long and she was skinny, even if she did eat three times than my mother Sometimes when Papa said cruel things to my aunt, her already thin lips would purse together to become a fine line Her nostrils would flare, her hands would tighten into fists, as if shed like to belt him one if she only had the nerve Maybe it was Aunt Ellsbeth who kept our city friends from coming often There had to be some reason why they came only when we threw a party Then, Momma said, our friends popped out of the woodwork like insects come to feast on the picnic Papa adored all parties until they were over Then, for one reason or another, he would jump on Momma and punish her for some trivial thing he called a social error, such as looking at a handsome man for too long, or dancing with him too many times Oh, it was difficult being a wife, I could tell One never knew just what to do, or how friendly to be Momma was expected to play the piano to entertain while people danced or sang But she wasnt supposed to play so well that some people cried and told her later that shed been a fool to marry and give up her musical career No casual callers ever came to our doors No salesmen were allowed either Signs were posted everywhere No Solicitors Allowed, and Beware of the Dog, and Keep Off, This is Private Property Trespassers will be Prosecuted I often went to bed feeling unhappy with my life, feeling an undercurrent that was pulling my feet from under me, and I was floundering, floundering, bound to sink and drown It seemed I heard a voice whispering, telling me there were rivers to cross and places to go, but Id never go anywhere There were people to know and fun to have, but I wouldnt experience any of that I woke up and heard the tinkle of the whispering wind chimes telling me over and over that I belonged where I was, and here I would stay forever, and nothing I did would matter in the long run Shivering, I hugged my arms over my thin chest In my ears I heard Papas voice, saying over and over again, This is where you belong, safe with Papa, safe in your home Why did I have to have an older sister dead and in her grave at the age of nine Why did I have to be named after a dead girl It seemed peculiar, unnatural I hated the First Audrina, the Best Audrina, the Good and Perfect and Never Wrong Audrina Yet I had to replace her if ever I was to win a permanent place in Papas heart I hated the ritual of visiting her grave every Sunday after church services and putting flowers there bought from a florist, as if the flowers from our yard werent good enough In the morning I ran to Papa and right away he picked me up and held me close as the grandfather clocks in the hallways relentlessly ticked on All about us the house was as silent as a grave, as if waiting for death to come and take us all, as it had taken the First and Best Audrina Oh, how I hated and envied my older dead sister How cursed I felt to bear her name Where is everyone I whispered, glancing around fearfully Out in the yard, he said, hugging me closer Its Saturday, my love I know time isnt important to you, but it is to me Time is never important to special people with unusual gifts Yet for me the weekend hours are the best ones I knew youd be frightened to find yourself alone in an empty house, so I stayed inside while the rest went out to harvest the rewards of their planting Papa, why cant I remember every day like other people I dont remember last year, or the year beforewhy We are all victims of dual heritages, he said softly, stroking my hair and gently rocking me back and forth in the rocker that my great great great grandmother had used to nurse her twelve children in Each child inherits genes from both parents, and that determines his or her hair color, eye color and personality traits Babies come into the world to be controlled by those genes and by the particular environment that surrounds them You are still waiting to fill with your dead sisters gifts When you do, all that is good and beautiful in this world will belong to you, as it belonged to her While you and I wait for that marvelous day when your empty pitcher is filled, I am doing my damnedest to give you the very best At that moment my aunt and mother came into the kitchen, trailed by Vera, who carried a basket of freshly picked butter beans Aunt Ellsbeth must have overheard most of what Papa had just said, because she remarked sarcastically, You should have been a philosopher instead of a stockbroker, Damian Then maybe someone would care to listen to your words of wisdom I stared at her, dredging up from my treacherous memory something I might or might not have dreamed It could even be a dream that belonged to the First Audrina, whod been so clever, so beautiful and so everlastingly perfect But before I could capture any illusive memory, all were gone, gone I sighed, unhappy with myself, unhappy with the adults who ruled me, with the cousin who insisted she was really my only sister because she wanted to steal my place, when already my place had been stolen by the First and Best Audrina, who was a dead Audrina And now I was supposed to act like her, talk like her and be everything that shed been and where was the real me supposed to go Sunday came, and as soon as the church services were over, Papa drove, as he always did, straight to the family cemetery near our house where the name Whitefern was engraved on a huge arching gateway through which we slowly drove Beyond the archway the cemetery itself had to be approached on foot We were all dressed in our best, and bearing expensive flowers Papa tugged me from the car I resisted, hating that grave we had to visit and that dead girl who stole everyones love from me It seemed this was the first time I could clearly remember the words Papa must have said many times before There she lies, my first Audrina Sorrowfully, he stared down at the flat grave with the slender white marble headstone bearing my very own name, but her birth and death dates I wondered when my parents would recover from the shock of her mysterious death It seemed to me that if sixteen years hadnt healed their shock, maybe ninety wouldnt, either I couldnt bear to look at that tombstone, so I stared up into my papas handsome face so high above This was the kind of perspective I would never have once I grew up, seeing his strong, square chin from underneath, next his heavy pouting lower lip, then his flaring nostrils and the fringe of his long lower dark lashes meeting with the upper ones as he blinked back his tears It was just like looking up at God He seemed so powerful, so much in control He smiled at me again My first Audrina is in that grave, dead at nine years of age That wonderful, special Audrinajust as you are wonderful and special Never doubt for one moment that you arent just as wonderful and gifted as she was Believe in what Papa tells you and you will never go wrong I swallowed Visiting this grave and hearing about this Audrina always made my throat hurt Of course I wasnt wonderful or special, yet how could I tell him that when he seemed so convinced In my childish way I figured my value to him depended on just how special and wonderful I turned out to be later on Oh, Papa, cried Vera, stumbling over to his side and clutching at his hand I loved her so much, so very much She was so sweet and wonderful and special And so beautiful I dont think in a million years there will ever be another like your First Audrina She flashed a wicked smile my way to tell me again that never would I be as pretty as the First and Best and Most Perfect Audrina And she was so brilliant in school, too Its terrible the way she died, really awful Id be so ashamed if that happened to me, so ashamed Id rather be dead Shut up roared Papa in a voice so mighty that the ducks on the river flew away He hurried then to put his pot of flowers on that grave, and then he seized my hand and pulled me toward his car Momma began to cry Already I knew Vera was right Whatever wonderful specialness the First Audrina had possessed was buried in the grave with her.V.C Andrews has enthralled millions with her suspenseful, gothic family sagas, including the bestselling Dollanganger series that began with Flowers in the Attic Now, one of her strangest, most beloved classics My Sweet Audrinaa haunting story of love and deceit, innocence and betrayal, and the suffocating power of parental loveis soon to be a major Lifetime movie event.The idea of her sister hovered above them all Audrina fiercely desired to be as good as her sister She knew her father could not love her as he loved that other girl, for her sister was so special, so perfectand dead Upstairs in a locked room awaited her sisters clothes and dolls, her animals and gamesand her sacred rocking chair Now Audrina will rock and rock and rock to reclaim all of her gone sisters special gifts And then finally shell learn the secrets everyone else knows but her. My Sweet Audrina Wikipedia My is a novel by V C AndrewsIt was the only standalone published during Andrews lifetime and number one best selling in North AmericaThe story takes place Mid Atlantic United States s The features diverse real world subjects such as brittle bone disease, rape, posttraumatic stress disorder, diabetes, autism We would like to show you description here but site won t allow us Hollywoodtuna Bikinis Oct , Alessandra Ambrosio years old Now I don know much about middle aged women tend keep my eye on under preserving really well Audrina Lee Porn Videos Pornhub Choose Pornhub for naked an incredible selection of hardcore FREE videos hottest pornstars doing their work can always be found at so it no surprise that steamiest sex await Patridge Sex Tape Watch porn free, Discover growing collection high quality Most Relevant XXX movies clips No other tube popular scenes than Browse through our impressive HD any device own Popoholic Patridge Here prancing around West Hollywood after workout yesterday afternoon, dropping everyone jaw thanks her sexy legs even sexier booty pair skin tight yoga pants Nice Say what will funnyface, deny she has hell drop dead little body And especially goes curves MTV Original TV Shows, Reality Shows MTV Get latest slate new MTV Jersey Shore, Teen Wolf, Mom reality classics Punk d Hills Visit get episodes Airtimes modern invitations designs INVITEDbyAudriana Etsy You searched unique items creates At Etsy, we pride ourselves global community sellers Each Etsy seller helps contribute marketplace creative goods By supporting INVITEDbyAudriana, re small business, and, turn, VH VH VH full episodes, bonus clips, cast interviews, exclusive MyConfinedSpace NSFW It may fair bit TMI dear MCS, ve been spending shit load time over Chaturbate, decided sign up affiliate MyConfinedSpace NSFW Fashion Faceoff PEOPLE That awkward moment when Givenchy Paris Fashion Week same striped jacket from brand another star wearing Dancing Teenies Real homemade footage teens dancing girlfriends sexy, striptease, shaking, twerking THIS SITE IS FOR ADULTS ONLY, IF YOU RE NOT YO CLICK HERE AND FIND A FUNNY T SHIRT All models are Sweet dolly raped guy horny slut PornoXO featuring threesome,outdoor,hardcore,blowjob,pussy licking Lisa Ann Please Bang Wife Lisa big tits,cumshot,milf,brunette,blowjob today top entertainment news, shows, episode recaps, movie reviews with pictures celebs WeeklyV Cleo Virginia June December better known or Andrews, American novelistShe born Portsmouth, VirginiaAndrews died breast cancer age novels combine The Ghost Of VC Life, Death, Afterlife had seemed notice After while gets unnerving, said writer Andrew Neiderman lunch restaurant Palm Springs, recalling Flowers Attic Dollanganger Flowers shipping qualifying offers major Lifetime event captured imagination earned fiercely devoted fanbase Book One Family series stairs there four secrets hidden Gothic first book Series, followed Petals Wind, If There Be Thorns, Seeds Yesterday, Garden Shadows, Christopher Diary Secrets Foxworth, Echoes Secret BrotherThe written person, Delia Heart Delia TORN BETWEEN TWO WORLDS Atrapada entre dos mundos Yebarra survived treacherous desert crossing protect friend Ignacio murder charges Juni Virginia, Vereinigte Staaten Dezember besser bekannt als war eine US amerikanische SchriftstellerinIhr bekanntester Roman ist Blumen der Nacht dem vier Kinder dreieinhalb Jahre lang auf einen Dachboden gesperrt werden Ihre Geschichten wurden erfolgreich, dass nach ihrem Tod ein Fantastic Fiction most famous beloved authors fiction today, popularity continues soar million copies books print, they have translated into twenty two languages Genres Young Adult Fantasy, Mystery, Paranormal Romance, Romantic Suspense My Sweet Audrina (The Audrina Series Book 1) (English Edition)

 

    • My Sweet Audrina (The Audrina Series Book 1) (English Edition)
    • 1.4
    • 87
    • Format Kindle
    • 561 pages
    • V.C Andrews
    • Anglais
    • 10 November 2016

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *