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Reading books fiction Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself.



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The genre of fiction is interesting to read not only by the process of cognition and the desire to empathize with the fate of the hero, this genre is interesting for the ability to rethink one's own life. Of course the reader may accept the author's point of view or disagree with them, but the reader should understand that the author has done a great job and deserves respect. Take a closer look at genre fiction in all its manifestations in our elibrary.



Read books online » Fiction » Streaks of Purple Saga/Spectrum Force by Heather Ray (classic books for 13 year olds .TXT) 📖

Book online «Streaks of Purple Saga/Spectrum Force by Heather Ray (classic books for 13 year olds .TXT) 📖». Author Heather Ray



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in a Baby Genius program."

Rachel's eyebrow quirked at the oddity of such a program, but didn't interrupt.

"Whenever I get into a jam, I can always count on Billy. He'd always come up with some plan or gizmo to destroy one of Zedd's trickier monsters. He's the one that built this communicator," she revealed, holding up her wrist. "But, I'd be lying if I said all his experiments worked out."

A rueful grin appeared. "This one time, he built a machine that was supposed to let someone read another's mind, and he and I were the guinea pigs. Turns out it switched our minds! I spent a whole day literally

in Billy's shoes, pretending to be a super-genius and failing miserably. That was the weirdest twenty-four hours of my life!"

Her amusement then faded. "Well, assuming this little adventure doesn't last that long."

The sentiment in Kim's words was incredible. Before, she'd spoken at length about floating heads, screeching witches, and evil lords with no skin. But such fanciful stories could easily be fictional, despite Kim's effective storytelling.

But when she spoke about her friends, it was different. There was a love that couldn't be feigned. Her esteem for this 'Billy' gleamed in her eyes. He couldn't be a character in some spun tale of knights in armor. He had to be real.

"I'm making coffee," Rachel stated, making her way to the small kitchenette. "Care for some?"

The offer took Kim by surprise. "No thanks. Coffee is addictive, you know."

Rachel grinned as she measured the water. "Don't I know it, but at least it helps make the all-nighters possible. Trust me, it's tough writing a twelve page report on the Civil Rights Act of '64 at three in the morning without it."

Kim winced. "You're kidding!"

"It comes with the territory, but it's not so bad. This is my fourth year at Dreiser, and so far I've only had to stay up all night for schoolwork three times."

"Were any of them because you had to stay out late saving the world? Because we've gotten into some trouble not getting assignments in on time. Like the time I had to read 'Animal Farm' for English last year, and I kept putting it off and putting it off, thinking I'd just read it that Sunday night, right? Only Rita had other plans…"

Rachel found herself listening to Kimberly's tale avidly, keeping an ear open for any inconsistencies with the information she'd previously provided, or just unusual elements that would put her on alert. But there was nothing outrageous, other than the attack by a freakish lion creature that kept the Power Rangers occupied.

Kimberly Hart just seemed so genuine, causing Rachel Castaneda, wary and suspicious by nature, to let go of some of her distrust.

Chapter Twenty-Nine




Angel Grove



A harsh ringing dragged Jocelyn from the obliviousness of deep slumber. Moaning grumpily, she opened one eye and glanced toward the clock.

Blinking, she realized her clock wasn't there

. Neither was the computer desk that sat beside her bed. Instead there was a chair covered with stuffed animals and frilly throw pillows.

"What the hell?" she grumbled, sitting up. The room was cheery and bright, with sunlight pouring through the lacy window treatment to illuminate everything. Pale carpeting, flowers bordering the white walls, photographs lining the dresser... and finally a digital alarm clock, sitting on the right of the bed rather than the left.

"Six-thirty?" she gasped, throwing off the blanket, "I'm late for practice with the Force!"

Then, it all came flooding back. The mission to the North Pole, the strange window of light that sucked her into some sort of alternate world. A world which was defended by the Power Rangers, a team of seven high school students given power from a bodiless intellectual, and aided by a sweet natured robot.

The world of Kimberly Hart.

"This is Kim's room," she reminded herself, rubbing her eyes fiercely to induce some sort of coherence. "I've got to be Kimberly today."

She reached over to shut off the alarm clock.

"I can do this," she murmured, dragging herself out of bed, "I just need some caffeine. Oh hell… Kim's anti-java. Great. And I have a test

to take, don't I?"

Zack had asked her not to try her best on the PSAT she'd be taking on Kim's behalf. Jocelyn doubted she'd be able to concentrate anyway.

"Okay… gotta wake up," she sighed, lightly slapping her cheeks. "Bathroom's across the hall."

She made her way to the bathroom, staring at the floral décor and assortment of beauty products lining the sink.

"Jeez… does everything

here smell like flowers?"

She was still able to figure out which bottles contained the essentials, and then immersed herself in the flow of warm water.

The shower worked wonders, drawing the dazed young woman to her senses. As she shampooed her hair, she reviewed the extensive information Trini and Tommy had relayed to her yesterday. She closed her eyes, visualizing the layout of the house and trying to remember the faces and corresponding names of the Rangers.

It was frightening to imagine how much could go wrong.

Jocelyn reminded herself that the charade was only for one day. She'd pretend to be Kimberly Hart, take the PSAT in her stead, endure the rest of her day's classes, and immediately report to the Command Center and find out the status of their analysis.

"Okay, one day of high school. I can do this…"

She shut off the water, and wrapped herself in a fresh towel. She gathered her discarded clothes and returned to Kimberly's bedroom, where she faced another problem.

What to wear?

Obviously, a rumpled shirt and worn jeans would be a poor choice. Not only were her clothes wrinkled and less than fresh, but they obviously weren't Kimberly's style.

Which means, I need something pink.



She pulled open the closet, and her jaw dropped in unabashed shock.

Holy cow… did she always love pink, or did she buy a whole new wardrobe when she became a Power Ranger?



She sifted through a myriad of breezy dresses, intolerably short shorts and mid-drift baring tops, her glare intensifying with each article of shamelessly flirty clothing she pushed aside.

"Finally!" she sighed, pulling a pair of jeans off a hangar. At least they covered her legs… but upon closer inspection, she realized she'd never get them zipped.

A rueful smirk appeared. "Of course my nigh-identical twin would be a size four. Just

what my self-esteem needed."

She slipped the jeans back on the hangar, and returned to the section of the closet devoted to flirty dresses.

"At least they don't cling like a second skin," she reasoned, selecting a white cotton dress with small pink flowers. It was loose-fitting, meaning a strong breeze would reveal much more than she cared to.

"Which would explain all these spandex micro shorts," she realized, pulling out a pale pink pair. "Eh, good enough."

Half an hour later she was fully dressed and ready for her day. She'd found a blow dryer at Kim's vanity, as well as a nice faux pearl barrette just the right size to clip her hair back in a twist that would hopefully draw people's attention away from the honey blonde highlights.

At a quarter after seven she hurried down the stairs, chewing her lip nervously as she tried to recall what taking the PSAT had been like.

"There you are! I was just about to come drag you down for breakfast!"

Jocelyn blinked at the woman standing in the kitchen, digging through the closet. "Breakfast is getting cold."

"Breakfast?" she repeated, sitting at a stool beside the small kitchen table. Mrs. Hart placed a plate in front of her, and a jar of honey.

"Pancakes with strawberries… your favorite."

"Wow," she muttered, staring at the short stack while trying to hide her dismay. Wonderful… I guess Kimberly doesn't share my allergies.



"You need a good breakfast so you can ace that exam," Kim's mother stated, setting a glass of orange juice to complete the meal. "I've got a conference call with Paris at nine, so I'm leaving early. I'll see you when I get home tonight."

She leaned over to kiss her daughter's cheek, only freeze in place.

Jocelyn held her breath as the older woman drew back. "What's wrong?"

"When did you get contact lenses? And when did you color your hair??"

Oh no… I forgot about the eyes!

"Uh… yesterday. I wanted to try a different look."

Jocelyn winced at the lameness of her excuse, but she noticed Caroline's surprise slowly melt into amusement.

"Well, be careful with contacts, Kim. You should only wear them for a few hours at a time until you get used to them. And next time you want to color your hair, I'll take you to my salon. I thought you liked the auburn Oscar put in last time."

"It's just an experiment," Jocelyn responded.

"Actually, it didn't come out badly," Caroline admitted, pulling a lock of hair out of the barrette and examining it closely. "It's a very natural shade. It'll look great over the summer."

She then kissed Jocelyn's cheek, and took her car keys from the table. "Good luck on your test, Kim!"

"Bye Mom!" Jocelyn called with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. The moment the door closed, she stared back at her plate, and scraped the strawberries off the pancake.

"At least there aren't strawberries in the batter," Jocelyn realized, drawing her knife through and eyeing the moist inside carefully. She took off the top pancake just to be safe, and ate the other one with one eye on the clock.

At exactly seven-thirty, a white Jeep appeared on the curb outside. Jocelyn grabbed Kim's backpack and hurried out the door, where Tommy was waiting.

"'Morning, Tommy," she greeted, climbing into the passenger's seat, "right on time!"

Tommy smirked, but Jocelyn didn't get the joke. "How'd your morning go?"

"First things first. Please

tell me there's a Starbucks on the way to school!"

His eyebrow rose. "Starbucks?"

Jocelyn stared at him. "No Starbucks?" she declared, slumping into her seat. "This must be Hell!"

Chapter Thirty
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