Intertwined, De Showalter, Gena. Editorial Harlequin Teen, Tapa Blanda En Inglés, 2010

Descripción

Theres something about the new guy at Crossroads High…Most sixteen-year-olds have friends. Aden Stone has four human souls living inside him:
One can time travel.
One can raise the dead.
One can possess another human.
One can tell the future.
Everyone thinks he's crazy, which is why he's spent his entire life shuffled between mental institutions and juvie. All of that is about to change, however. For months Aden has been having visions of a beautiful girl—a girl who carries centuries-old secrets. A girl who will either save him or destroy him.
Together they'll enter a dark world of intrigue and not everyone is string_containing danger…butll come out alive.

About the Author
Gena Showalter is the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of over seventy books, including the acclaimed Lords of the Underworld series, the Gods of War series, the White Rabbit Chronicles, and the Forest of Good and Evil series. She writes sizzling paranormal romance, heartwarming contemporary romance, and unputdownable young adult novels, and lives in Oklahoma City with her family and menagerie of dogs. Visit her at GenaShowalter.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
A cemetery. No. No, no, no! How had he ended up here?
Clearly, wearing his iPod while exploring a new town had been a mistake. Especially since Crossroads, Oklahoma, perhaps garden gnome capital of the world and definitely hell on earth, was so small it was practically nonexistent.
If only he'd left the Nano at the D and M Ranch, a halfway house for wayward teens where he now lived. But he hadn't. He'd wanted peace, just a little peace. And now he would pay the price.
"This sucks," he muttered, pulling the buds from his ears and shoving the shiny green distraction into his backpack. He was sixteen years old, but sometimes he felt like he'd been around forever, and every one of those days had been worse than the one before. Sadly, today would be no exception.
Immediately the very people he'd been trying to drown out with so-loud-your-ears-bleed Life of Agony clamored for his attention.
"Finally!" Julian said from inside his head. "I've been screaming for you to turn around for, like, ever."
"Well, you should have screamed louder. Starting a war with the undead not what is string_containing waswanted to do today." As he spoke, Haden Stone—known as Aden because, as a kid, he apparently hadn't been able to pronounce his own name—backtracked, removing his foot from the graveyard's property line. But it was too late. In the distance, in front of a tombstone, the ground was already shaking, cracking.
"Don't blame me," Julian replied. "Elijah should have predicted this."
"Hey," a second voice said. It, too, came from inside Aden's head. "Don't blame me, either. Most times, I only know when someone's gonna die."
Sighing, Aden dropped his backpack, bent down and palmed the daggers he kept anchored in his boots. If he were ever caught with them, he'd be tossed back into juvie, where fights erupted as regularly as lunch was served and making a trustworthy friend was as impossible as escape. Deep down, though, he'd known carrying them was worth the risk. It was always worth the risk.
"Fine."
"This is my fault," Julian grumbled. "Not like I can help myself, though."
That was true. The dead had only to sense him to awaken. Which, like now, usually involved Aden accidentally placing his foot on their land. Some sensed him faster than others, but they all eventually rose.
"Don't worry about it. We've been in worse situations." More than leaving the iPod at home, he mused, he should have been paying attention to the world around him. He'd studied a map of the town, after all, and had known what areas to avoid. But as the music had pounded, he'd lost track of his surroundings. He'd been momentarily liberated, seemingly alone.
The tombstone began to rattle.
Julian sighed, the sound an echo of Aden's. "I know we've endured worse. But I caused those worse situations, too."
Fabulous. A pity party. This third, fr