The Eleventh Plague hits disturbingly close to home An excellent, taut debut novel.

Mostly we just add to the piles of rainbow glass that's been blown off the exteriors of the cany-colored buildings.

My voice, at first rough and breaking on the high notes, warms up into something splendid. A voice that would make the mockingjays fall silent and then tumble over themselves to join in.

Barbarism? That's ironic coming from a woman helping to prepare us for slaughter. And what's she basing our success on? Our table manners?

But because two can play at this game, I stand on tiptoe and kiss his cheek. Right on his bruise.

Katniss: I guess all those hours decorating cakes paid off. Peeta: Yes, frosting. The final defence of the dying. (252)

He’s dozed off again, but I kiss him awake, which seems to startle him. Then he smiles as if he’d be happy to lie there gazing at me forever.