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Check in from 15h / Check out prior to 12h
Rostune Hotel: Find photos, reviews, information, amenities and compare prices for 2 stars hotels in Sijsele, Belgium.
Situated in Sijsele, Rostune Hotel is an easy drive from Maldegem and offers meeting rooms, bicycle rental and an express check-in and check-out feature. It also provides luggage storage, a currency exchange and a ticket service.
Hotel description
Logis Rostune has 14 rooms, all of which are equipped with cable/satellite channels, a radio and ironing facilities. En suites come with either a bath or a shower.
Logis Rostune Hotel Damme provides breakfast each morning that guests can enjoy before venturing out to explore the surrounding region. For those with day trips planned, the hotel offers packed lunches if needed.
Rostune Hotel is under a 45-minute drive from Ostend-Bruges International Airport. Belfort, St. Salvator's Cathedral and Markt are just an easy car ride from the hotel.
Hotel features
Cable / Satellite TV, TV, En suite, Private Bathroom
Elevator / Lift, Dry Cleaning, Currency Exchange, Safe-Deposit Box, Wake-up Service, Meeting Rooms, Bicycle Rental, Photocopier, Ticket Service, Luggage Storage, Express Check-In/Check-Out, Self Laundry
Tour Desk, Golf Course, Garden
Airport shuttle
Hiking, Private Toilet, Packed Lunches, Shoe Shine
Availability and Prices
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Vredehof Hotel Damme
Dorpstraat 1, Sijsele
Dorpstraat 1, Sijsele
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Nearest hotels
- Pousada Bon & Bon
364 m
- De Swaenhoeck
1.7 km
- Vredehof Hotel Damme
1.9 km


text: Don't leave your pets behind when you travel to West Yellowstone MT. More and more travelers are bringing their pets with them, and many lodging properties recognize this unique niche. If you're traveling with pets, discover West Yellowstone Montana Pet Friendly Hotels and lodging options here. Ask each lodging property about their pet policy before you book.

subset: commoncrawl


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When the Philadelphia Eagles began shopping DeSean Jackson, it came as a bit of a surprise. After all, he was the team's most dynamic threat at the wide receiver position and had a huge year in Chip Kelly's offense.
What came next was shocking.
On Friday, the Eagles released a short statement signifying the end of Jackson's tenure with the franchise. The statement read, "After careful consideration during this off-season, the Philadelphia Eagles have decided to part ways with DeSean Jackson. The team informed him of his release today."
Just before the team announced Jackson's release, a troubling piece of news regarding the wide receiver surfaced. According to Eliot Shorr-Parks and A.J. Perez of NJ.com, it was made known that Jackson allegedly had ties to gangs in southern California.
Jackson vehemently denied the allegations, according to a statement posted on Facebook by ESPN's Adam Schefter:
First I would like to thank the Eagles organization, the Eagles fans and the city of Philadelphia for my time in Philly. I would also like to thank coach Andy Reid for bringing me in. Secondly, I would like to address the misleading and unfounded reports that my release has anything to do with any affiliation that has been speculated surrounding the company I keep off of the field. I would like to make it very clear that I am not and never have been part of any gang. I am not a gang member and to speculate and assume that I am involved in such activity off the field is reckless and irresponsible. I work very hard on and off the field and I am a good person with good values. I am proud of the accomplishments that I have made both on and off the field. I have worked tirelessly to give back to my community and have a positive impact on those in need. It is unfortunate that I now have to defend myself and my intentions. These reports are irresponsible and just not true. I look forward to working hard for my new team. God Bless.
Even though Jackson continues to strike down the accusations, they still pose a lingering concern for any team interested in the veteran wide receiver.
Jackson needs to right the ship in a big way—whether these rumors are true or false. He must clear his image with impeccable behavior on and off the field.
After all, it appears as though these allegations are not the only reason for Jackson's release, according to a tweet from Pete Prisco of CBS Sports:
Sure sounds like the gang stuff with DeSean Jackson had no bearing on his release. Being late. Missing meetings did. And it should— Pete Prisco (@PriscoCBS) March 29, 2014
The best way to do this is to join a team that has a strong locker room and plenty of veteran leadership. He needs teammates to look after him and attempt to steer him away from any potential bad decisions.
Of the interested teams, only one franchise makes sense for the troubled wideout—and many that don't.
Ian Rapoport of NFL.com confirmed the team interested in Jackson with this tweet:
Two wildcard teams interested in DeSean Jackson: #Redskins and #Bills. Can see both fits. Toss those in with #Chiefs, #Raiders and the rest.— Ian Rapoport (@RapSheet) March 29, 2014
Going to Oakland will not be in Jackson's best interests. Sure, the team could use his on-field services in a big way; however, this is an organization in the midst of rebuilding, and Jackson could be seen as a detriment to that process.
Also, relocating so close to the area of his alleged gang ties could spark more controversy and become a huge distraction.
Both the Redskins and Bills are in dire need of another playmaker on offense; although, both teams are young and lacking in veteran leadership. Each features inexperienced head coaches. This doesn't exactly look like an ideal situation.
Source tells me any Bills interest in DeSean Jackson would be for a predetermined price. Bills won't get into a bidding war.— Tim Graham (@ByTimGraham) March 29, 2014
The Chiefs may make the most sense here. Andy Reid is as familiar with Jackson as anyone, and veteran leaders like Alex Smith, Derrick Johnson and Tamba Hali provide a great locker room atmosphere.
Jackson will fit easily into a very familiar system, and his prowess on the field will be reignited immediately. Kansas City gives him the best shot for success on the field and off of it as well.
There may be some more teams that enter the running for the wide receiver in the coming days; however, as it stands right now, Jackson's options are limited. A sound, mature decision by the veteran must be made.


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iHerb カスタマーレビュー
のセーブ: ¥440 (30 % オフ)
Colors and styles may vary slightly.
joyslinにより Nov 26, 2014 に掲載
Bought these bowls as I felt that this would be a great idea, and also partly due to the good reviews here. Disappointed because only the smallest bowl is it comes with a cap and its suction works great. The two bigger bowls which are better and more practical due to their size does not come with caps and the suction is so-so (meaning much more mess, mommies). Wouldn't recommend. In my opinion, it is maybe good for smaller babies who don't eat a lot, but then that defeats the purpose to use these for toddlers who are learning how to eat on their own. The idea is great but needs to be more well made.
只有一个最小的盖子 with only one cap in it
5298462656496873945により May 22, 2013 に掲載
收到货以后,只有一个最小的盖子,其他两个去哪里了?希望iherb给个答复。这次购物除了这件事以外,还有其他的问题出现了,总体感觉非常的不愉快。 I received only one cap of the bowl, the smallest one. Where are the other two? I hope iherb.com will solve the problem properly.
Reviewer2449178により Feb 09, 2012 に掲載
OK product
CurbAnxietyにより Sep 18, 2011 に掲載
Nice and colorful bowls and lids. The suction is a great idea, but could be better implemented. Now the bowls come loose quite easily. Also the plastic looks a bit cheap. But it's BPA free, that's definitely a plus. All in all, I like them, so does my baby :)
Decent and useful
Reviewer2812601により Jun 18, 2013 に掲載
My child actually loves using these bowls for transporting snacks from the kitchen to his play area. Doesn't look like any of the other bowls in the house, so he knows that they are "His"! Great that there are covers for all three bowls for unfinished portions and they snap real tight. I sometimes use these myself for taking hummus dip to work! The only problem for me that gives this product 4 stars instead of 5 is that the bowl does not stick to even the slightest porous surfaces. Doesn't work on our wooden kitchen table nor does it stick to the highchair plastic tray.
Munchkin suction bowls
5628270350721395225により Oct 27, 2012 に掲載
Not sure if the suction stays. Iherb should have more infant products for selection.
5155549220247737357により Jun 20, 2013 に掲載
like it very much,three caps could be better.


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The Borussia Dortmund centre back has been continually linked with a move to the Catalan giants.
"We have never had any contact with Barcelona, Despite all the rumours," he said, before adding intriguingly,"any player with ambitions dreams of one day playing for Barcelona, Real Madrid or Manchester United. But I do not think Mats is likely to be transferred."
More about...
What is your opinion? Feel free to discuss the article under. You have to comment by using your Facebook profile. Be fair and have respect for other people and opinions!
Summer 2016 is set to be a very exciting time for football fans, as this is when the long awaited Euro 2016 tournament kicks off.
Since Guus Hiddink arrived at the helm, Chelsea have improved considerably after a tricky start to the campaign.


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On September 21-23 SWAG once again runs the conference CloudBurst in Stockholm, Sweden and streamed online! Read more here CloudBurst!
Or are you here to:
Become a SWAG:er and recieve updates when there are Microsoft Azure events in your region, nationally like our conference below or when there are global Microsoft Azure news!
Learn about Microsoft Azure
And contact us if you need any help!
- Become a sponsor of SWAG or help organize an envent?


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- 2 cups shredded red cabbage (about 1/4 head)
- 1 red bell pepper, small dice (about 1 cup)
- 1 medium onion, small dice
- 6 radishes, thinly sliced (about 3/4 cup)
- 2 tablespoons kosher salt
- 1/2 cup rice wine vinegar
- 1/3 to 1/2 cup honey
- 1/2 teaspoon mustard powder
- 1/2 teaspoon turmeric
- 1/2 teaspoon prepared horseradish
- 1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
- 1 bay leaf
- 1 Thai chili, quartered if fresh and left whole if dried
DirectionsWatch how to make this recipe.
Mix the cabbage, bell pepper, onion, and radishes with the salt and place in a strainer set over a bowl. Refrigerate overnight.
Press out as much liquid as possible from the vegetables.
Combine the vinegar, honey, mustard, turmeric, horseradish, cloves, bay leaf and chili with 1/2 cup water in a large pot and boil for 5 minutes. Add the vegetable mixture, toss to coat and bring it back to a boil. Remove from the heat and let cool to room temperature. Transfer to a container and store in the refrigerator for up to 7 days.
Recipe courtesy of Damaris Phillips
CATEGORIES:View All
Cooking Tips
More Recipes and Ideas
Heirloom Tomato Chow Chow
Recipe courtesy of Tyler Florence
Heirloom Tomato Chow-Chow
Recipe courtesy of Tyler Florence
From the Pantry: Chocolate, Peanut Butter and Corn Chip Chow
Recipe courtesy of Food Network Kitchen


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4-H members show talent at County Fair hog show
Monday evening's 4-H activities provided entertainment in the Warren K. Brown Show arena.
In the livestock arena, squeals of excitement were heard from the hogs and youth, and a few of the spectators as they participated in Swine Market, Breeding and Showmanship Classes.
Doug Koontz of Pennsylvania is currently judging junior livestock shows throughout central Pennsylvania and has judged the NY State Fair Market and Showmanship classes. He judged the market and breeding classes on breed standards, finish and quality and the showmanship classes on handling and presentation.
The Showmanship classes consisted of three divisions and 77 youth. Senior Showman, being the most experienced showman, ended with Patrick Kibbe in first and Madison Styers in second.
Among the Junior Showmanship class, Lilly Underberg took first and Jacob Lesch took second.
Lastly was the First Year Junior Showman class. In first was Ella Underberg and in second was Lydia Covert.
Earning the Division Champion and Reserve Titles also earned these participants entrance in the Champion Showman class. Patrick Kibbe earned the Grand Champion Showman title for 2014. Reserve Grand Champion went to Madison Styers.
Following the showmanship class was the market hog show. The market classes are divided into weight classes.
The first weight class was the 220-229 pound class which was won by Adam Lesch and followed by Jaiden Huntington in second.
Next was the 230-239 pound class. In first was Braden Lesch and in second was Patrick Kibbe.
After that was the 240-249 pound class which saw Lilly Underberg in first and Hannah Schauman in second.
The 250-259 pound class followed with Gabrielle Tremblay in first and Kayla Schauman took second.
In the weight range of 260-270 pounds, winners were Lilly Underberg who took first place and in second was Kelsie Jackson.
The last class was the heaviest hogs with a weight range of 270-280 pounds. Michael Kibbe took first place and in second was Branden Decker.
Champion and Reserve Market Hogs from each weight class compete for the Grand Champion Market Hog title. Michael Kibbe won this honor and Lilly Underberg received the Reserve Grand Champion award.
4-H Market Hog winners earned more than ribbons and trophies. These placings help 4-H members earn a sale position in the Meat Animal Sale scheduled for Friday at noon. Grand and Reserve market animals earn the first and second slots in the hog portion of the Meat Animal Sale.
Other 4-H members that have multiple animals in the 4-H Market Hog Project are required to sell only their top placing animal.
4-H Hog Project members work many hours preparing their animals for show and sale.
To help show your support of Chautauqua County 4-H you can attend the 2014 4-H Meat Animal Sale on Friday at noon.
To get more information or fair passes to attend the sale, call Emily Kidd at 450-3124.


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Dry Rub for Steaks
Total Time
Prep 5 mins
Cook 40 mins
Nice rub for steaks and quick too. This is the only rub I like. A little sweet and hot at the same time. Yummy. Cooking time is for the steak to marinate in the rub.
Ingredients Nutrition
- 1 teaspoon paprika
- 1 teaspoon chili powder
- 1 teaspoon brown sugar
- 1⁄4 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1⁄4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
- 1⁄4 teaspoon seasoning salt
- Mix all ingredients and rub onto steak. Refrigerate for 30 minutes. Heat grill to a medium heat. Grill on both sides 4-6 minutes depending on how well done you like your steak. Enjoy with your favorite steak sauce.


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Architectural Studies Events
Mon, Aug 26, 2013
Mon, Sep 9, 2013
Fri, Sep 20, 2013
Wed, Oct 16, 2013
Sat, Oct 26, 2013
Wed, Oct 30, 2013
Fri, Nov 1, 2013
Tue, Nov 12, 2013
Thu, Nov 14, 2013
Mon, Nov 18, 2013
Tue, Feb 4, 2014
Wed, Feb 26, 2014
Fri, Feb 28, 2014
Wed, Mar 12, 2014
Wed, Mar 26, 2014
Lecture by Eric Kramer '93: Nature + Culture: Explorations in Landscape Architecture
Kramer's visit is sponsored by the Amherst College Programs in Architectural Studies, European Studies, and Environmental Studies and by the Department of Art and the History of Art, the Corliss Lamont Lectureship for a Peaceful World, and the Lucius Root Eastman 1895 Fund. All are welcome.
Wed, Apr 9, 2014
WMAIA Architecture Through Film: Non-Western Design
WMAIA/Five College Architecture's Architecture Through Film series continues with excerpts from the documentary series ARCHITECTURES, which explores an eclectic mix of some of the world's most renowned buildings. Film followed by discussion. Free.
The Alhambra, Granada
Phaeno Science Center in Wolfsburg by Zaha Hadid
The Yoyogi Olympic Gymnasiums by Kenzo Tange
Thu, Apr 10, 2014
"Poolitics: The Flush Toilet and Struggles for Political Autonomy" with Gustavo Esteva
Activist and community-based intellectual Gustavo Esteva of Oaxaca, Mexico, will reflect on poverty, excrement and collective resistance to economic and state oppressions. The interconnection of these issues has been termed the "politics of shit," and resulting theories point to alternative attitudes and techniques for "developing" the global poor and realizing self-determination for marginalized groups. How do dominant attitudes about "shit," the flush toilet and alternative sanitation manifest in neocolonial development schemes? What is the meaning of "buen vivir" for Mexico's indigenous peoples, and what has their struggle for autonomy looked like in an urban, contemporary setting?
This lecture is sponsored by the Lamont Fund, the Green Amherst Project and the Architectural Studies Program at Amherst College; by Library Services and the Department of Landscape Architecture and Regional Planning at UMass; and by the Gardening Club at Smith College.
All are welcome.
Fri, Apr 11, 2014
Celebrating Architectural Studies: Perspectives From Young Alumni
Panel presentations by alumni working in architectural studies will take place from 2-4pm. Networking Reception with wine and cheese to follow in the Rotherwas Room. All are welcome.
Shane Neufeld '04 is an American architect, painter and writer living and working in Brooklyn, New York. He received his B.A. in Fine Arts in 2004 from Amherst College, where he studied painting and literature, and his Masters degree in 2009 from the Yale School of Architecture. Neufeld's work is cross-disciplinary. Over the past four years, he has designed and completed projects that attempt to redefine traditional architectural boundaries, seeking to hybridize narrative and construction with the hope that simple materials can be transformed entirely if the architectural concept is strong enough. He continues to produce art in addition to pursuing a career as an architect. However, he does not view these multiple outputs as separate, but rather as combined—seamlessly integrated into a total work of art. Shane's projects have been exhibited at Jeff Bailey Gallery in New York City and Alpha Gallery in Boston, among others. His work has been published in The New York Times, Harper's, CLOG, Lotus and a number of online publications including ArchDaily and SuckerPUNCH. He has completed several built projects that include an Urban Farm in Manhattan's Battery Park, RAMPed Up, a USGBC National Competition Winner for an affordable house in New Orleans, and Vintry Fine Wines in New York City. He spent three years after graduate school working for Rogers Marvel Architects, where he participated in a number of projects and competitions spanning from urbanism, residential, and commercial, to institutional architecture. He currently runs his own practice, Shane Bernhard Neufeld Architects, and teaches at New Jersey School of Technology as an adjunct professor in the School of Architecture.
Sarah O'Keefe Greig '02 works in architectural preservation and education in New York City. She majored in Fine Arts and graduated magna cum laude in 2002. While at Amherst, she took many architecture classes, including survey courses, Making Memorials, and a seminar on Frank Lloyd Wright. She studied abroad on an arts program in Paris, where her course work included photography, painting, Impressionism, and Medieval Architecture. Upon graduation, Sarah worked at a high school in northern California for two years, and then worked as a curatorial intern at the Museum of Photographic Arts in San Diego. Wanting to merge her love of arts and education, Sarah moved back East to attend graduate school at Tufts University, where she earned her M.A. in Art History in 2007 and a certificate in Museum Studies with a concentration in Museum Education. While at Tufts, she worked as an art history teaching assistant, head of the Gallery Guide program at the Tufts Art Gallery, and intern in the education department at the MFA. The recipient of an Amherst Memorial Fellowship during her graduate studies, Sarah's graduate work focused on the intersection of photography, painting, and architecture in late 19th century in Paris, Boston, and New York, specifically drawing connections between architectural photography and the beginning of the historic preservation movement in Boston. After receiving her M.A., Sarah moved to New York to intern in the photography department at MoMA, and performed independent exhibition research on architectural photographer Ezra Stoller. She was then hired at FRIENDS of the Upper East Side Historic Districts, a small non-profit dedicated to historic preservation, where she has worked since 2007 filling several roles: Preservation Associate, Interim Executive Director, and Education Director. Her work has included marketing, grant writing, curriculum development, board and membership management, fundraising, and event planning. She has testified at the Landmarks Preservation Commission to advocate for appropriate changes to landmarked buildings in six historic districts, fought against inappropriate change and development, and successfully campaigned to expand the boundaries of the Upper East Side Historic District in 2010. Her main focus has been as Education Director, where she revamped Young Friends youth architectural education programs, which now reach over 1,000 first to fifth graders each year in public and private schools on the Upper East Side and East Harlem. The multi-visit programs teach students to "read" a building as they learn about building materials, architectural elements, and building use; students also learn a detailed history of their school neighborhood and local historic districts through maps and historic photographs. Sarah loves being in the classroom and out in the neighborhood opening students' eyes to their built environment. The programs include classroom sessions, neighborhood walking tours, and architectural art projects. Sarah has added new offerings on Landmarks and Preservation, as well as Yorkville Immigration, which finds evidence of the rich immigrant history in the built environment. She has created a successful partnership with the Museum of the City of New York, secured program funding from NYC Council Members and the NYC Department of Cultural Affairs, and released two new architectural publications to accompany the youth programs. Sarah is currently working on new program offerings and also runs a photography business.
Tim Ripper '09 is currently an M.F.A. student in graphic design at the Yale School of Art. He majored in physics at Amherst (his thesis on the phenomenon of precursor waves was published in the American Journal of Physics) while continuing to pursue longtime interests in fine art and foreign languages in his remaining courses. He also frequently contributed illustrations and cartoons for campus publications. After graduation, Tim took advantage of his Amherst-acquired Chinese language skills and lack of long-term career plans by moving to China for two years. There he taught English, worked in educational publishing, and played bass in a rock band before ultimately feeling an urge to go back to school. After researching various graduate programs, he narrowed down his search to graphic design as a way to combine his varied interests in a single field. In 2012, he began a three-year graphic design program for a Master of Fine Arts degree from Yale, which provides an extra year of foundation courses for students without undergraduate backgrounds in graphic design. He has loved the experience so far, and is particularly delighted to be working in a field at the inter-section point of so many different disciplines.
Tue, Apr 22, 2014
Janet Echelman: Imagination Taken Seriously: Reshaping Urban Airspace
This lecture is sponsored by the Corliss Lamont Lectureship for a Peaceful World, the Georges Lurcy Lecture Series at Amherst, the Programs in Architectural Studies, European Studies and Sexuality, Women and Gender Studies, the Departments of Mathematics and Art & the History of Art at Amherst College, the Program in Humanities, Arts and Cultural Studies at Hampshire College and the Spiro Fund at Mt Holyoke College.


text:
Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Winter (the season) (08/13/09)
TITLE: Out of the Cold
By Jacob Drollinger
It was a bizarre set of circumstances that had led them to this point. Her controlling and abusive husband was to blame for the most part. He had driven her away with the last beating; she had escaped into the night with her seven-year-old under her coat. Somehow they had managed to survive for the past six days on the $92 which she had in her purse when they left, but now the money was gone, and she was desperate. She was young and na�ve; she didn�t know anything about shelters for battered women.
She had been contemplating her next move for about forty-eight hours, but the frigid air was forcing her hand. Dottie had to do something, and she had to do it now, or both of them would most certainly die on the street tonight.
The young woman had found a steel bar in a back alley, the back alley where she and Meg had been sleeping at night covered by the wool blanket that she had bought the night of their escape. The cold piece of metal was about the size of a gun barrel, she thought. She was now contemplating the inconceivable. She could feel her heart beating in her chest as she approached a convenience store on the snowy street corner. She was shivering. Oh my Lord, it was so cold!
She stepped inside the store and glanced upwards, towards the corner where the security camera was. She gracefully stepped to the side of the store that the camera was obviously not positioned to observe. She then stuck the end of the bar out of the opening of her coat, and yelled at the man behind the counter, �Hey, mister, keep your hands where I can see them.� The teenage clerk put his hands in the air.
�Okay, now I want you to quickly fill a bag with all the money in the register,� she yelled again, trying to sound as tough as she possibly could. The man pulled a bag out from underneath the counter and opened the cash register. He then started to pull the bills out and feed them into the bag.
�Ma�am, I just want you to know, you don�t have to do this,� the clerk said as softly as he could as to still be heard by the thief.
�Just be quiet and bring me the bag,� Dottie yelled. �You don�t know anything about what I�ve been through.�
The clerk placed the last of the money in the bag and calmly and deliberately stepped from behind the counter and started down the aisle in which Dottie was anxiously waiting. �I believe I know more about you than you think I do, Dottie,� the greasy haired, pimply faced youth spoke to her.
�What? How�d you know my name? Is my husband here?� Dottie asked, breathlessly astonished.
�No, it�s just you and I, Dottie. I know that little Meg is standing right outside the door,� he said, motioning towards the silhouette of the freezing, hungry child. �I also know what drove you to this. I know that he hits you, Dottie. I know that sometimes he hits you so hard it feels like his fist is going right through you,� he said gently. �It�s been five years now, my friend, it�s about time that you are safe.�
�What am I supposed to do? I�ve got no more money, and I can�t get a job dressed the way I am. I�ve never worked before�� Dottie was starting to sob.
�I know that you have been sheltered. In today�s world there are things you can do, places you can go, people that can help,� the young man whispered. �Let�s bring Meg inside, and I�ll make some phone calls.�
Then he took Dottie and Meg to the back of the building, gave each of them a blanket and cup of milk, and dialed the number of a shelter for battered women on the other side of town. �I�ve got somebody coming to pick you up. It�s the end of the longest winter of your life, Dottie.� he said.
At that moment, she glanced at the clerk�s nametag � �Angel�, Funny, he didn�t look like an �Angel�, she thought�without really thinking.
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text:
The art of David Spencer
I never want to be tied to one style of creativity. I create unique pieces because I don't want to be known or recognised for a recurrent style. There's nothing I'm bound to other than experimenting, so I can keep pushing and trying new things. I'd rather be known for my exploration of different disciplines. Seeking new challenges to further develop my art practice, my learning and my artistic development.
In my paintings I reference urban life and the modern industrial world, while acknowledging nature's beauty and surprise. I am encouraged by change and pushing boundaries. I relish in mistakes and tire of repetition. I love the power and statement in simple compositions juxtaposed with areas of layering and detail.
It's when all these elements are combined, I feel my paintings are successful and only then do I feel like an artist.
David Spencer retains the copyright on all work sold or unsold. All works of art, content and commentary within this web site are protected under Australian copyright laws and international conventions. No portion of David Spencer's imagery, artworks or statements may be used, downloaded, reproduced using any means, copied, linked to, or transferred electronically, without prior written permission from David Spencer. [David Spencer t/as Crashcut Productions ABN:59533729928 /
High Trust Rating


text:
Sweetlyby Jackson Pearce
Years later, when their stepmother casts Gretchen and Ansel out, they find themselves in sleepy Live Oak, South Carolina. They're invited to stay with Sophia
As a child, Gretchen's twin sister was taken by a witch in the woods. Ever since, Gretchen and her brother, Ansel, have felt the long branches of the witch's forest threatening to make them disappear, too.
Years later, when their stepmother casts Gretchen and Ansel out, they find themselves in sleepy Live Oak, South Carolina. They're invited to stay with Sophia Kelly, a beautiful candy maker who molds sugary magic: coveted treats that create confidence, bravery, and passion.
Life seems idyllic and Gretchen and Ansel gradually forget their haunted past -- until Gretchen meets handsome local outcast Samuel. He tells her the witch isn't gone -- it's lurking in the forest, preying on girls every year after Live Oak's infamous chocolate festival, and looking to make Gretchen its next victim. Gretchen is determined to stop running and start fighting back. Yet the further she investigates the mystery of what the witch is and how it chooses its victims, the more she wonders who the real monster is.
Gretchen is certain of only one thing: a monster is coming, and it will never go away hungry.
Editorial Reviews
Product Details
- 9780316125758
- Publisher:
- Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
- Publication date:
- 08/23/2011
- Series:
- Fairy Tale Retelling
- Sold by:
- Hachette Digital, Inc.
- Format:
- NOOK Book
- Sales rank:
- 570,688
- File size:
- Age Range:
- 12 - 18 Years
Read an Excerpt
By Pearce, Jackson
Little, Brown Books for Young ReadersCopyright © 2011 Pearce, Jackson
All right reserved.
(Twelve Years Ago)
The book said there was a witch in the woods.
That's why they were among the thick trees to begin with—to find her. The three of them trudged along, weaving through the hemlocks and maples, long out of sight of their house, their father's happy smiles, their mother's soft hands.
A sharp ripping sound bounced through the trees. The boy whirled around.
"Sorry," one of the girls said, though she clearly didn't mean it. Her cheeks were still lined with baby fat and her hair was like broken sunlight, identical to the girl's standing beside her. She held up the bag of chocolate candies that she'd just torn open. "You can have all the yellows, Ansel, if you want."
"No one likes the yellows," Ansel said, rolling his eyes.
"Mom does," one of the twins argued, but he'd turned his back and couldn't tell which one. That was how it normally was with them—they blended, so much so that you sometimes couldn't tell if they were two people or the same person twice. The sister with the candy emptied a handful of them into her palm, picking out the yellows and dropping them as they continued to trudge forward.
"When we find the witch," Ansel told his sisters, "if she chases us, we should split up. That way she can only eat one of us."
"What if she catches me, though?" one of the girls asked, alarmed.
"Well, what if she catches me, Gretchen?" Ansel replied.
"You're bigger. She should chase you," the other sister told him, pouting. "That's the way they work." She was the only one who claimed to know the ways of witches—she was the one with the stories, the made-up maps, the pages and pages of books stored away in her head. She reached into her twin's bag of candy and pegged Ansel in the back of the head with a yellow candy. He didn't react, so she prepared to throw another one—
"Wait… do you know where we are?" he asked.
One of the twins raised her eyes to the forest canopy and scanned the closest tree trunks, while her sister turned slowly in the leaves. They knew these woods by heart but had never ventured quite so far before. The shadows from branches felt like strangers, the cracks and pops of nature turned eerie.
The twins simultaneously shook their heads and their brother nodded curtly, trying to hide the fact that being out so far made him uneasy. He hurried forward, eager to keep moving.
"Ansel? Wait!" one asked, and ran a little to close the space between them. "Are we lost?"
"Only a little," he answered, jumping at the sound of a particularly loud falling branch. "Don't be scared."
"I'm not," she lied. She began to wish she'd packed peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for their adventure, instead of two Barbies and a bag of candy, which Gretchen had almost finished off anyway. What if they were stuck out here past dinnertime?
"Besides," Ansel said over his shoulder, "maybe she'll be a good witch, like Glinda, and help us get unlost."
"I thought you said she might want to eat us."
"Well, maybe, but we won't know until we find her. Unless you want to go back," Ansel said. He didn't entirely believe the stories about the witch, but his sisters did and he didn't want to ruin it for them. Another pop in the woods made him jump; he shook off the nerves and sang their favorite song, one from a plastic record player that had been their father's.
"In the Big Rock Candy Mountain, you never change your socks." The twins began to hum along, adding words here or there, until they got to the line all three of them loved and they sang in unison.
"There's a lake of stew and soda, too, in the Big Rock Candy Mountain!" The familiar words calmed them, made things fun again, as though their combined voices swept the fear away.
Ansel was about to begin another verse when a new noise came from farther in the forest—not a pop, not a crack, but a footstep. A slow, rolling foot on dried leaves, then another, then another. He grabbed his sisters' hands, one of their sticky palms in each of his. The bag of candies fell to the ground and scattered, rainbow colors in the dead leaves.
They waited. There was nothing.
And yet there was something—there was something, something breathing, something dripping, something still and hard in the trees. Ansel's eyes raced across the trunks, looking for whatever it was that he was certain, beyond all doubt, had its eyes locked on them.
"Who's there?" Ansel shouted. His voice shook, and it made the twins quiver. Ansel was never scared. He was their big brother. He protected them from boys with sticks and thunderstorms.
But he was scared now, and they were torn between wonder and horror at the sight.
Nothing answered Ansel's question. It got quieter. Birds stilled, trees silenced, breath stopped, his grip on his sisters' hands tightened. It was still there, whatever it was, but it was motionless, waiting, waiting, waiting…
It finally spoke, a low, whispery voice, something that could be mistaken for wind in the trees, something that made Ansel's throat dry. He couldn't pick out the words—they were torn apart, and they were dark. Low, guttural, threatening.
The words stopped.
And it laughed.
Ansel squeezed his sisters' hands and took off the way they had come. He yanked them along and ran fast as he could, over brush and under limbs. The twins screamed, a single high-pitched note that ripped through the trees and swam around Ansel's head. He couldn't look back, not without slowing.
It was behind them. Right behind them, chasing them.
Gretchen stumbled but held tightly to Ansel, let herself be dragged to her feet just as something grasped at her ankles, missed. They had to move faster; it was coming, crunching leaves, grabbing at the hems of their clothes.
It's going to catch us.
The twins slowed Ansel down—their joined hands slowed everyone down. They'd promised to split up so the witch could eat only one of them, but now…
It's going to catch us.
Ansel lightened his grip, just the smallest bit, and suddenly his hands were free and the three of them were sprinting through the trees. The thing behind them roared, an even darker version of the words they'd heard earlier.
Both twins knew the other couldn't run much longer. Did Ansel know the way out?
On the ground, yellow candies. Ansel was following them, slicing around trees while the twins followed along desperately, eyes focused on finding the next piece, the trail back to the part of the forest they knew. The monster leapt for one of the twins, missed her, made a breathy, hissing sound of frustration. She dared to glance back.
Yellow, sick-looking eyes found hers.
She turned forward and sped up, faster than the others, driven by the yellow eyes that overpowered the sharp aches in her chest, her legs begging for rest. There was light ahead, shapes that weren't trees. Their house, their house was close—the candy trail had worked. She couldn't feel her feet anymore, her lungs were bursting, eyes watering, cheeks scratched, but there was the house.
They burst from the woods onto their cool lawn. Get inside, get inside. Ansel flung the back door open and they stumbled in, slamming the door shut. Their father and mother ran down the stairs, saw their children sweaty and panting and quivering, and asked in panicky, perfect unison:
"Where's your sister?"
The truth is, I can't believe it took our stepmother this long to throw us out.
She's never liked us, after all, especially me—she didn't like the way my father loved me, didn't like the fact that I perfectly matched the daughter she'd never met but my father ached for, the way I looked like his dead wife when she'd been a teenager. She said she just couldn't afford to keep us on anymore and, with me having just turned eighteen and Ansel nineteen, was no longer obligated to.
Obligated. We were obligations left behind by a father eaten alive by mourning, remnants of a shattered family.
"Are we in South Carolina yet? I zoned out," Ansel says, his voice a forced calm as he peers over the steering wheel. Ansel likes to have a plan of attack, like he did back on the football field in high school, but right now, we've got nothing more than the clothes in the car and the gasoline in the tank. He doesn't want me to see him worrying, but the truth is, I'm happy to be gone. I feel freer without a plan in the middle of nowhere than I did back in Washington.
"Yeah, we crossed the border a few hours ago," I answer, kicking my feet up onto the dash. The backs of my knees are sticky and sweat trickles down my chest—it uses too much gas to run the AC and the heat here is heavy. It's a little easier to bear if I imagine we're on an epic road trip, the kind that's a fun adventure, like you see in movies. "We should be there in another three or four hours, I think," I add.
"There" is the direct result of the folded and refolded pastel brochure in my hands: Folly Beach, South Carolina: The Edge of America. I picked up the brochure at a Tennessee rest stop, and ever since, we've been moving toward it, at my behest and Ansel's ever-accommodating apathy.
The photo on the front is of a peaceful, quiet beach with a red and white lighthouse by the water's edge. The sand goes on for miles, golden and flat, while the water peaks into elegant waves. It's the place of my dreams—western Washington State, with its dense forests, was full of places for girls to disappear, to vanish into the trees at the hands of a witch.
A witch. The only term I have for whatever it was that took my sister. I visualize the witch as a twisted villain, an evil woman, a monster, a demon, a near-invisible force, every man in our neighborhood, a trick of the light—something with horribly golden eyes that only I saw and Ansel has long insisted never existed in the first place. Whatever the witch is, she lives among dark trees, deep valleys, craggy ocean cliffs. I've spent my whole life longing for soft, endless sand and crashing waves that blur the sounds of the world so I no longer stare at the trees and wonder where the other half of me is among them. I've spent my whole life wanting to escape the memory of my sister, wanting to start over, and hating myself for wanting that. How could I want to run away from a lost little girl?
But still. I open the brochure again and read.
A picturesque town of painted sunsets, elegant dining, and endless beaches, Folly Beach is truly the Edge of America—where the everyday ends and serenity begins.
Each second we drive, we get closer to the water, the sand, the flat shore where it's impossible to vanish, where I have plans: Plans to start over. Plans to be someone new, someone who isn't haunted by a dead sister. We fly past exits that have nothing at them and finally see hints of the beach only a few hours ahead. Signs advertising resorts and speedboat rentals and little shops boasting floats and giant-size beach towels—it's early June, prime beach season, and most of the other cars on the road seem packed to the brim with vacationing families. I inhale the hot scent of cut hay and try to imagine that it's the ocean's salt.
The Jeep kicks. There's a loud crack, a boom, and the smell of smoke suddenly overpowers the air.
Ansel veers off the nearly empty road just as gray smoke billows from the front of the car. He jumps out, slamming the door as he runs around and opens the hood. I can't see him anymore, but his coughs and curses make their way to my ears. I lean out my window, trying to see what's going on, just as Ansel makes his way back around the car.
"The whole damn thing is burned up," Ansel snaps, throwing himself back into the driver's seat. He shakes his head and punches at the steering wheel. "We only have fifty-seven dollars left and the car burns to pieces."
Ansel mutters another string of curse words, flipping through his wallet as if he may find an extra twenty-dollar bill hidden between old receipts. When he doesn't, he shakes his head, grits his teeth, and breathes slowly. He has a fast temper, but he knows it and tries to keep it at bay around me. It was my mother's suggestion, when Ansel started to heal and I still stared at the forest, waiting for my sister to stumble out.
"Make sure Gretchen knows you're there for her. Don't upset her—be her rock, Ansel. You have to help her move on."
It's a shame my mother couldn't listen to her own advice. She couldn't be anyone's rock, curled up in her bedroom until the grief devoured her. We weren't even allowed to say our sister's name in front of her, because it would set her off, either make her sob or yell at us, scream that we had lost her. So we were supposed to act as if nothing was wrong. As if there'd always been only two Kassel children, Ansel constantly trying to find whatever it was that would make up for our sister's absence, doing everything he could to be my rock, the person I hold on to when I feel as though I might slide off the world and vanish like she did.
Ansel leans across me and opens the glove compartment, then pulls out a crumbly map, folded in all the wrong ways. He stares at it for a moment. "We're closer to the town we just passed than we are to the next one. We'll have to walk."
"What if we called a tow truck?"
"I don't think we can afford it, but either way my phone is dead. Wait—yours hasn't been used much. Does it have any bars out here?"
Of course it hasn't been used—no one would think to call me. I wanted friends, really, but at the same time, how could I go to the mall and laugh at movies when my sister was out there in the darkness? Ansel, somehow, forced himself over that hurdle—every time he hangs up the phone, he touches the thick class ring on his finger, as if it's his last connection to normal, to his friends, to their world. I feel bad that he's back in mine, despite how much I need him.
I shake my head at Ansel. "My phone died this morning. I forgot to bring a car charger."
"Then we walk," Ansel says with a sigh. I grab my purse and climb out of the car.
And we start to walk.
Everything seemed hot before, when we were sitting in the car. But now things are truly hot, stifling in a way I've never known. The air doesn't move—it sits on us like a weight, crushing us into the long grasses we trudge through. The sky is cloudless, imposing, and for what feels like a million years the scenery doesn't change. The pine-saturated forest feels as though it's growing oppressively closer, and I can sense the familiar fear bubbling up in my chest. There could be something in the leaves; there could be something that makes me disappear. Ansel sees it and quietly moves so that he's in between me and the tree line. He thinks that makes it better, but really, who would I rather the witch take this time around—Ansel or me?
Finally, the exit ramp appears ahead, just as the feeling of insects nipping at my ankles is becoming too much to handle. Rivers of sweat carve down my back and Ansel's shirt is drenched, but we huff and jog up the ramp to a crossroad. There are two signs at the top of the ramp surrounded by black-eyed Susans. One is hand-painted with red and blue lettering and reads SEE ROBERT E. LEE'S RIDING BOOTS. The other is wooden with a white background and red lettering that isn't entirely even, as if it was hand-carved. LIVE OAK, SOUTH CAROLINA. HOME OF THE ACORNS— 1969 COUNTY CHAMPIONS.
"1969?" Ansel says, surprised. "And they still have the sign up?"
"Maybe it's the only time they've won," I suggest. Ansel frowns—in Washington, his school's football team won the state championship so regularly that they had to shift the oldest "state champs" plaque off the sign every year to make way for the newest one. Ansel was a defensive lineman—I think I see him smirk a little at the sign as we pass it. He loved all sports, but football was his obsession—he memorized plays, other players' stats, training regimens. He told me once that it was because he liked getting hit. That being knocked to the ground reminded him he was here.
"It looks like our options are limited," he says. There's nothing but farmland to our right. To our left is a large store—floats in the shapes of orcas and alligators rest in bins outside, and beach towels are hanging in the window. Beside that is a gas station attached to a long diner with giant glass windows. Even from here, I can see people watching us as they eat lunch. They look as if they're glaring at us, but I can't really tell for sure.
Ansel walks quickly to get in front of me, and within a few moments we're close enough that people have stopped staring for fear of being caught. There's a faded red cursive sign over the diner: JUDY'S. Painted letters on the windows advertise famous blackberry pie and muscadine grape preserves. All the people inside are hunched over whatever they're eating, as though they worry someone might snatch it away from them.
When Ansel pushes the door open, a wind chime hung on the interior knocks against it. The diner is mostly occupied by sun-spotted old men wearing baseball caps and jeans, though there are a few soft-looking women as well, all completely silent, eyes on us. I was right—they are glaring, but I'm not sure why.
"All right, all right, give them some space," a weary-looking waitress calls from the other end of the diner, waving a rag at the patrons. They give her dark looks but abandon the suspicious glares at Ansel and me. The waitress drops off a stack of napkins by an old man, then walks our way. Her yellow dress stands out against the faded aquamarine and black that decks out the diner. "Forgive them. They don't like outsiders. I see enough that I'm over it, I guess. What'll you have? Coca-Cola? Sweet tea? You look roasted."
"Uh, neither, actually. We broke down about a mile ahead on the road. I wanted to see if we can get a tow truck," Ansel says.
"Closest tow company is over in Lake City, ever since the Bakers left town. They can be out here in about an hour, though, if you want their number," the waitress tells us with a pitying frown.
"Can I use your phone to call?" Ansel asks. The waitress reaches down below the register and pulls up an ancient-looking phone, and she and Ansel begin flipping through a series of tattered business cards, looking for the tow company's number. I ease myself onto one of the bar stools and look around the diner.
Along with a few older blue-collar men sitting at the bar is a man—boy?—about Ansel's age, though something about him feels old. It's not his skin, not his hands, but something in the way he holds his shoulders, in the way his head droops down, something that makes me think he's handsome and dangerous at once. Our eyes lock for a small moment through his layer of shaggy, almost-black hair. Bright eyes as green as mine are blue, eyes that don't match the tired look of the rest of his body—the gaze shoots through the air and startles me. I glance down, and when I look back up, the boy is hunched over his coffee again.
I'm jarred away from him by the sound of Ansel hanging up the phone harder than necessary.
"Interested in that sweet tea now? How about a Cheerwine?" the waitress asks Ansel.
"Why not? Two teas, I guess," Ansel mutters in response. The waitress nods and jogs toward a silver urn of tea labeled SWEET with a permanent marker. I don't totally get the need for the marker, because the identical one beside it is also labeled SWEET.
Ansel slides onto the stool next to me. "The guy says it'll cost a hundred and fifty dollars. Might as well be a hundred and fifty thousand. I told him never mind. I didn't even ask how much it would be to fix the car." Ansel sighs and rubs his forehead. "I could do it if I had the tools, but I didn't have room to pack them."
The waitress slides two glasses of amber tea packed with ice onto the counter; I sip on mine tentatively. It's tremendously sweet, so much so that I feel the sugar coating the inside of my mouth. Ansel and I sit in silence for a moment, until an old man a few seats down coughs loudly and wipes his mouth with a handkerchief.
"Okay, okay, you got my pity. You good with your hands, by chance?" the old man asks.
"Good enough," Ansel answers carefully, rising. He walks over and shakes the man's hand.
"Ansel Kassel"—Ansel nods toward me—"and my sister, Gretchen."
"Jed Wilkes," the man replies.
Other people stare at Jed, as though he's broken some sort of oath about talking to strangers. He doesn't notice, though—he takes off his NRA ball cap and runs a hand over his mostly bald head. "Well, if you can do some basic repair sort of stuff, I might be able to point you in the right direction to make a little cash."
"I can do basic repairs—more than basic repairs. What do you need done?" Ansel says eagerly.
"Not me—Sophia Kelly. She runs a candy shop way out in the near middle of nowhere. Had some stuff she needed fixed up, last I talked to her."
There's a sharp movement next to me; I turn to see that the green-eyed boy has lifted his head. "Yeah, she needs help," he mutters, slamming his coffee mug down so hard that liquid sloshes out the sides. The waitress cusses at him under her breath, lifts the mug, and runs a wet rag over the spill. Everyone else in the diner seems to share the waitress's sentiment—annoyed eye rolls and irritated glances fly his way. No one offers any sort of explanation before Jed continues.
"Anyway, interested?"
"Yes," Ansel answers immediately. "Absolutely. If I buy your meal for you, would you give us a ride back to my car first? I don't want to leave our suitcases out there all day."
"Hell, don't worry about it, kid. I feel bad for you—you remind me of my grandson, before my daughter up and moved to the city with him. I'll give you a ride to your car. Just remember to tell Miss Kelly how gentlemanly I was," Jed says with a loud chuckle. The green-eyed boy responds by dropping a ten-dollar bill onto the counter and jumping from his seat. He moves to leave the diner but suddenly stops in front of me, eyes piercing my own.
"Stay away from her," he tells me, loud enough that the rest of the diner can hear but so seriously, so desperately, that I feel as though he and I are the only ones in the room. "Stay as far away from her as you can."
Ansel makes it from Jed back to me in record time, but the boy is already gone—he storms out of the diner and slides onto an ancient-looking motorcycle, then squeals out of the parking lot. I'm left shaken, not by what he said, but by the way he looked at me, the way he spoke to me, the way he… everything. I try to swallow my reaction. Being afraid of a crazy kid in a diner is no way to start a new life, Gretchen.
"I'm fine. Seriously," I tell Ansel. I hate him and love him for being this way, ready to run to my side. It makes me feel safe, but I wish so badly that I didn't need a rock to cling to.
"Ah, so you do speak, Skittles!" Jed says. Ansel takes the green-eyed boy's vacant seat, still warily watching the cloud of exhaust he left.
"Skittles?" I ask.
"Never seen so many colors since lookin' in a bag of Skittles," Jed says, nodding toward the tips of my hair. Pink, blue, purple, faded strands of orange. I thought that maybe if I made myself stand out, I wouldn't feel so scared of slipping off the world and vanishing like my sister—if people noticed me, they could hold me here. Ansel didn't understand, but I still think it makes sense—you forget the number of wrens and sparrows you see every day, but if a macaw flies by, you notice her. You wouldn't stop using her name and try to forget she ever existed.
It didn't work, though, so I'm left with almost-healed piercings and a rainbow of faded dyes in the lower half of my hair.
Jed continues through my silence. "He's got a thing against Miss Kelly. Don't you mind him, don't you mind any of 'em. People think she's either the patron saint of candy or the first sign of Live Oak's end days. She's the saint, I promise you that."
"Right," my brother says, as if that makes complete sense. If he's as taken aback by Jed's description of Sophia Kelly as I am, he's not letting it show.
"Any reason I should bother trying to find out what you two kids are doing out here all alone?" Jed asks.
"Our stepmother asked us to leave," Ansel says shortly. "So we did."
"Right." Jed shoves a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth. "We don't get runaways too often," he says with a laugh. "But then, we don't get too many young people, period."
"We're not runaways," I correct Jed quietly. "We were thrown out."
"Yeah, yeah," Jed says. His eyes sparkle. "But if your stepmother is the type to throw you out, you probably woulda run away sooner or later."
Without doubt, I think. I know I couldn't have lived with her in the shell of our childhood home for too much longer. Ansel shakes his head and takes a drink of his yet-untouched tea; his eyes widen in surprise at how sweet it is.
"Well, let's head out, then," Jed finally says, nodding at the waitress. She takes a ten-dollar bill from his hand. Ansel fumbles with his wallet to pay for our drinks.
"Don't worry about it, hon. On the house," she says with a kind smile. Usually Ansel would be too proud to walk away without paying, but I suppose being this broke has challenged his pride. He gives her an appreciative look as I follow Jed outside; the diner begins buzzing again behind us, as if they'd been holding in their conversations while strangers were around. There's a faded red truck that I already can tell belongs to Jed—it doesn't surprise me at all when he opens the door and waves us over. I let Ansel have the front, since he's huge and the back is crammed with tools and cigarette packages.
With the windows open, hot wind whipping through the air, we cut down the interstate to Ansel's Jeep. He grabs most of our things, tosses them into the back of Jed's truck beside some rusty animal traps, and we're on our way again.
The first stoplight we see is simply flashing yellow, and Jed coasts through it. The town appears ahead—strings of brick buildings connected to one another, though each with a slightly different storefront. On the sides of the buildings are old signs from businesses long closed, painted on the brick in faded colors. It'd be idyllic, if it didn't have a feel of abandonment about it—as though the buildings are stores merely because that's what they've always been. I feel as if the empty windows are watching me.
Finally, there's a break in the buildings: a town square, with a traffic circle around its border. In the center is a statue of a Confederate soldier on a rearing horse. On the far side of the square, set just off the road, is a wooden building with an American flag out front and a bright red acorn logo above it. The windows are boarded up.
"Is that a school?" Ansel asks over the clattering of the truck's engine struggling down the road.
"Was. Ten or so years ago we stopped havin' enough students to fill it. All the kids are bused down to Lake City now—hour ride, but the government paid for a bus to come and get 'em. Though rumor has it that might stop, what with there not bein' too many kids left in Live Oak."
"You won the county championship in sixty-nine, I saw," Ansel adds with a hint of amusement in his voice.
"Bet your sweet ass our boys did—against Lake City High, biggest showdown in the county. I was second-string, didn't get to play in the game, but Sophia's daddy was the big star of it. Touchdown, seventy-three yards. Proudest moment Live Oak's ever had!" Jed exclaims. If that was their proudest moment, I can't help but wonder what's been going on in the decades since, but I keep my mouth shut.
We emerge on the other side of town and delve back onto roads lined with pastures or trees. Jed begins taking strange turns onto roads that I'm certain can't lead anywhere, since they're all overgrown with branches and the paving is barely there at all, but no, eventually we come out on a decently paved street with forests looming on either side. They're just starting to bear down on me when I spot a break in the trees, and when Jed slows down, I realize what it is—a front yard. We're here.
Excerpted from Sweetly by Pearce, Jackson Copyright © 2011 by Pearce, Jackson. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Meet the Author
Jackson Pearce is the author of Purity, Sisters Red, and As You Wish. She lives in Atlanta, Georgia.
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Reviewed by Rita G. for Readers Favorite "Sweetly" by Jackson Pearce offers readers a new twist on an old fairy tale. Things are not always what they seem. The woman living in the sweet house turns out to be a dangerous character. Ansel and Gretchen's home life was filled with a lot of unhappiness. They both wanted to start a new life and left home. Unfortunately, you cannot run away from all of your problems. When they were young they walked in the woods and something very bad got their sister. She was never found. They believe it was the witch. As they grew up they avoided her name, never to mention it again. When Gretchen turned eighteen their wicked step mother threw them out of the house. That was the start of their adventure. They arrived in the small town of Live Oak, South Carolina, with their car trouble and out of money. Sophia, the candy maker takes them in and the pain of their past begins to fade. Ansel finds himself falling in love with the beautiful candy maker and Gretchen meets Samuel who wins her heart. Secrets surround Sophia, the forest and the missing girls. Will Gretchen be the next? The cover of this book fits it perfectly. It made me want to pick up this book and open the cover. From the moment I picked up this book I was mesmerized. I could not lay it down and read through the night. I was so wrapped up in the story I felt as if I knew Gretchen and really cared about what would happen to her. This is truly a new twist to a fairy tale. I would love to read the whole series.
i loved, loved LOVED Sweetly so much!! like Sisters Red, I was sad finishing it because i didn't want it to end. Jackson Pearce is a phenomenal writer and i cannot wait until Fathomless, the next companion book of Sisters Red to come out next August! (2012) this book was creepy, adventurous and romantic at the same time!! the reader could really feel how Gretchen was feeling. you could even feel how the other characters were feeling even though Gretchen was telling the story- that's how amazing Pearce's writing is! i am counting down the days until Fathomless... i'll be driving my family nuts!
A really good book! i really enjoyed the modern version of Hansel and Gretel.
In SISTERS RED, Jackson Pearce put a new twist on the story of Little Red Riding Hood. This time, she is taking on Hansel and Gretel. I was extremely excited when I saw this ARC at a booth at the NCTE Conference and quickly grabbed it up when I got the chance. Now, I will start out by saying that SISTERS RED was my favorite book from 2010, so SWEETLY had a lot to live up to. Gretchen and Ansel are on their own. Being kicked out of their house by their stepmother after the death of their father has left them homeless, alone, and penniless. They travel as far as they can until their car breaks down in a small town called Live Oak in South Carolina. With no way to pay for the repairs to their car, they are left with little choice but to take what work they can find. Ansel finds work as a handyman for the local chocolatier, a girl named Sophia. They soon find out that people don't like Sophia and consider her to be a danger to the community. Every year, Sophia has a Chocolate Festival. Young girls in the community hope for an invitation, but only the "right" girls get one. The community suspects Sophia of evil doings, because every year after the festival a couple of girls disappear - never to be heard from again. As Gretchen gets to know Sophia while she helps her make candy, she learns some things that make her wonder what is really going on in Sophia's life and with the missing girls. When Gretchen meets Samuel, things start to fall into place. She begins to take action and gain control of her life. Will she be able to save herself and the girls of Live Oak from the monsters in the woods? Unfortunately, SWEETLY didn't grab me like SISTERS RED did. While set in the same world as the first book, this one didn't feel as intense. I didn't fall in love with any of the characters like I did with Scarlet, Rosie, and Silas. However, I'll still eagerly read the next one Pearce writes.
Love this book! Very clever, romantic and fun! Jackson Pearce is a great writter!!!! Cant wait for more
I was so lucky to get an ARC of "Sweetly" by Jackson Pearce. I have always loved Jackson Pearce, even before her first book, "As You Wish", was released. I read AYW in one day and read "Sisters Red" rather quickly, so I had high expectations for this book. I was not disappointed. "Sweetly" was one of the best books I have read. I like that there are similarities between SR and S, beyond the fact that they are fairy-tale spin offs. There is one sibling that is able to move on from tradgedy and live their own life, the other sibling is unable to do so and has to continue to do something. Personally, I would pick "Sweetly" over SR. It may just be because "Sweetly" had more romance in it, but I loved this story. I couldn't put it down. I found myself saying "I'll just read this next chapter, it's only x many pages, then I'll go do whatever" - and the next thing I knew, I had read four or more chapters. What I liked most about this book, I think, was that Gretchen, while dedicated to fighting the "witch" and protecting the people she loves, she was also still able to have a life of her own. In SR, Scarlet was completely focused on fighting the Fenris, so much so that she never allowed herself to fall in love or have a hobby. But Gretchen still lets herself do that stuff. Throughout this novel we see Gretchen go from being a scared little girl to a strong woman that can defend herself and do what needs to be done. However, I think this novel also illustrates another type of growth - a growth in the author. This novel really showed me a growth in Jackson Pearce's voice as an author. I think that Pearce has improved her writing skills since her first novel was released, and I wasn't sure if she could get any better because I already loved her work SO much. I'm not just saying this because she's one of my favorite authors or because I've met her. This novel made me so proud of her because of the sheer beauty of this novel. If this novel doesn't go to the New York Time's Best Seller List, I don't know what is wrong with America. Job well done, Jackson Pearce. I am eager to see you go even farther in your career. "Sweetly" is definitely one of my favorite books and I am pretty sure I will be re-reading it sooner or later (and I NEVER re-read books)!
Although bad idea to read this protoluge at night its creppy protoluge is the first couple of pages u read before the first chapter but overall great book higly recommnded
The story was good at first. The mystery aspect of the story and the scary moments were well done and gave me the heebie jeebies. I was sort of hoping for a sequel to Sisters Red but knew this wasn't the case as I read the summary before so I was mildly disappointed. Although it's nice to see fairy tale retellings. What's guaranteed is your sweet tooth will start to crave the various delicious sweets and desserts listed all throughout the book. You'll want to raid a sweet shop after reading this book. They're told in descriptive detail and it's very well done. Although that aspect of the writing was good, I have to say I didn't really enjoy reading the story that much. It was slow paced and I found it quite dry in some parts. Gretchen wasn't much to be intrigued about. Also even the romance between her and Samuel just didn't have enough to get my attention. So the ending went out with a bang but it just wasn't enough to make up for such a dry book. Needless to say I was disappointed. This could have been better. Sure, I feel like grabbing a handful of candies and cupcakes and there were moments of scariness but there characters didn't really engage me and I didn't find this a page turner. Take it or leave it. Lovely cover though!
Super amazin love it always
A take of Hansel and Gretel. Well written. Easy to get to know the characters. A good book if your in the mood for some make believe.
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Yo need to put a squeeze on your ch<_>at box.(what?) This is what you are doing. This is what i want you to do. (Did you tell me to shut up?) Yes you catch on straightaway. Aww the muscle. Yes of course. Familiar scenario. you want to get phy<_>sical phy<_>sical? Well a sharp blow to the de<_>wy gu<_>mbel would start things. And finally a sm<_>ack to the did<_>gy do<_>dge. Did someone yell timber? Get it? Got it? Doubt it.
Book is great. As a fairy tale with a twist, it's a little predictible but a joy to read!
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This novel was amazing. Yes that is how I'm choosing to begin this review. Sweetly was awesome, amazing and great. The companion to Sisters Red and the second re-told fairy tale in Jackson Pearce's series, I have literally been dying to start reading it and when I did I never wanted to stop. I'm going to hope that you guys have noticed just which fairy tale is about to be retold right? Hansel and Grettle! The story about the boy and girl who get lost in the forest, find a candy house and get eaten by a witch—right? Not in this novel, this is far from the fairy tale you know. Sweetly is about main characters Ansel and Gretchen and begins with them at a young age, walking through the forest with Gretchen's twin sister when something (that they choose to call a witch) attacks them. Dragging off Gretchen's twin into the forest. That causes Gretchen's family to fall apart, their mother dies and later their father does, leaving them with their step-mother who kicks out Gretchen and Ansel. That causes the two to drive from their home and for their care to break down in the small town of Live Oak, where they meet Sophia Kelly, a chocolatier with a dark secret. I personally, enjoyed the fact that in Sweetly you have no idea what's going to happen next. Most novels that are re-makes of fairy tales are overly predictable, just because you usually know the tale already and there are no more surprises. Not the case in Sweetly. The story is completely new and I adored that. You get to see two characters who blame themselves for their sisters disappearance. A chocolatier who may or may not be the warning of the town's end days.An a witch who was introduced in Sisters Red as a Fenris. Seriously who wouldn't want to read Hansel and Grettle with werewolves ready to break down the door to steal away citizens? We have Grettle as our main character and after she gets attacked by a fenris she learns how to use a gun and prepares herself for the worst. Sweetly is a thrilling ride that never stops it's pace once. You'll want to stay awake all night just to finish it because just when you think you know everything…. BLAM! You don't. You really don't. With a terrifying ending and a twist I didn't see coming, I would recommend Sweetly to fans of Jackson Pearce's previous novels as well as readers who love re-telling's of fairy tales.
I picked up Sweetly because my teenage niece was interested in reading it. I completely devoured the book myself! The different ways that an author can twist folklore into something new, something modern, has always been an interest of mine. And this book is definitely not another retold Cinderella! The lesser glamorized Hansel & Gretel story is updated and wonderfully intertwined with some more sinister folklore which makes for a great story. The author's ability to tell a story that draws the reader into this new, yet familiar world makes for a wonderful read! Sprinkled with bits of philosophy, the mystery surrounding the disappearance of Ansel & Gretchen's sister quickly consumed my mind as it consumed Gretchen's heart. My own desire to love and fear the candy lady waxed and waned right along with Gretchen. Who is Sophia really? This lady who always has everyone's favorite sweet on hand, whose laugh could grow a garden, who suddenly disappears to some dark part of her mind where no one can go and then returns with a smile and a lemon drop? Gretchen's journey from a frightened little girl under her brother's thumb to the brave young woman suddenly protecting them both creates an empathetic character to be trusted and admired. Flavored with twists and turns around every page and a dash of romance, this story is, in itself, a delightful treat!
I finished the book about a half hour ago and i am amazed!! I love jackson pearce, she is a amazing author! She makes everything so vivid! I was not supost to read this book out of school but i couldnt eait over theweekend to finish the last ten chapter!! I would recommend this book to all of my friends! I love both books and i am gonna read them both over and over again!!!!! ( =


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Hey everyone, I am buying a flat pnl HDTV and want to connect it as my monitor as well. A friend recommended that I get a program where I use my computer as my 'cable box', tivo and also as storage and player of movies.
So I guess my questions are: does anyone know what I am typing about; any better way to do it; or any AVforums that would?
Thanks again Joe


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Cross Fit opens in New Ulm
NEW ULM – Cross Fit has come to town, bringing a strength and conditioning program to local residents. The New Ulm Cross Fit is located on 509 North 20th Street. It is run by Jeff and Brandy Toomer.
Cross Fit workouts help in the real world, according to persons promoting Cross Fit.
The founder of Cross Fit workout centers, Greg Glassman, emphasizes functional fitness that correlates to everyday life. "Everything we do is going to help you outside of here," said Jeff Toomer.
The Cross Fit gym – or Boxes as they are often called – is mostly open spaces to allow for full classes. "We have no work-out machines, it's all body workout," said Brandy Toomer.
"We consider your body the machine," said Jeff Toomer. Equipment is limited to barbells, kettle bells, medicine ball, ab mats, jump ropes, squat rakes and a pullup rig.
The key to Cross Fits exercise program is the "workout of the Day." The workout is always different to ensure the exercise routine is never the same. "We want this varied all the time," Jeff Toomer said. "That is the biggest key to fitness is mixing it up and confusing the muscles."
The Toomers first learned of Cross Fit a year ago. Brandy started going first, and Jeff joined shortly after. In a matter of a few months the couple took training to become coaches. Their original plan was to help with coaching at the Mankato location, but after completing the training in Chicago the couple decided to open a Cross Fit of their own.
The Toomers settled on New Ulm because it was near family, and it seemed like a fitness-aware community, citing the Heart of New Ulm program. After a week of advertising the New Ulm Cross Fit has 24 members, many of whom were familiar with the Mankato Cross Fit.
Scaled exercises are available to allow anyone to do the workout. The Toomers hope to have people from all ages in classes. The current age limit is set at 13, but they hope to have a children's program by the end of the year. They feel that in some ways the individual classes are like small families. "Everyone gets to know each other and helps each other out," said Jeff Toomer.
An open house was hosted on Feb. 15. Since then, the couple has been hard at work making the "box" suitable for workouts. Regular workout classes are scheduled to begin today. Over the last week the Toomers have held Foundation Sessions, which are required for members before taking part in the regular classes.
The Grand Opening of Cross Fit is scheduled for March 8.
Until additional coaching is available, class sizes in New Ulm will be limited to 20 people. Four classes are held each day. The first two are at 5 o'clock and 6 o'clock in the morning. The later two are scheduled for 4:30 p.m. and 5:30 p.m.
Two "foundation" class are available – one at 7 a.m., and the second at 3:30 p.m.
Functional Movement Classes will be held at 8:30 a.m. Monday, Wednesday and Friday for people with limited mobility. These sessions are targeted for individuals recovering from surgery and those having trouble standing up or sitting down.
As membership continues to grow the Toomers plan to add additional class times and expand the gym space.


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Located in downtown Cordoba, Olinda Hostel & Bar offers affordable accommodations with free WiFi access. The property includes an on site bar and a lovely garden. Rooms at Olina Hostel & Bar are equipped with cable TVs, wardrobes and fans. They feature private or shared bathrooms. Bed linens and towels are provided. This guest house includes a 24-hour front desk, a shared lounge, a tour desk and luggage storage. Guests can prepare their own meals in the well-equipped common kitchen. Shuttle services can be arranged for a surcharge. This guest house is 1.2 miles from Catedral de Cordoba, 1.4 miles from Jesuit Square and 1.4 miles from the Civic Centre.


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A hot and hearty beef stew made in advance in the slow cooker. Set it up in the morning and it will be ready for dinner with very little work in the kitchen. The beans will have to be soaked in advance.
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Eminent Informatics Pvt. Ltd — NOT MAKING PAYMENT FOR WORK DONE FROM HOME
7 Reviews
HaHarjit Singh MT on Jan 28, 2012
I am working as a HOME BASED MEDICAL TRANSCRIPTIONIST, based at Chandigarh. I started working with this above-said company in October 2011. This company provides home-based medical transcription work. I worked for this company from 20th October 2011 till 30th November 2011. During all this time period, despite of my repeated request to the authorities concerned, they did not send any Work Agreement/Contract Papers to me. I stopped working on 30th November 2011, and asked the company to kindly first send the contract papers and clear the due payments for the month of October and November, and then we will proceed further, but to no avail despite my repeated requests. Now they have stopped even answering my calls also. I have got the e.mails with me through which the work was sent to me and the proof of the work done (transcripts) sent to them by me and some e.mails from the company only.
Kindly advice and help me so that I can procure my payments from the above-said company.
Company details are:
Eminent Informatics Pvt. Ltd
367, 11th Cross,
RT Nagar 2nd Block,
Bangalore – 560 032.
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#2417, Sec 38/C
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Within a 20-minute stroll from Poznan Glowny Railway Station, Gaja offers guests a convenient base when visiting Poznan. It is located just a short stroll from plenty of popular bars, clubs and restaurants.
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