Chic@s como saben mañana se publica en USA "Hard Bitten" y como este año (al igual que los anteriores) Chloe y yo estamos bastante ocupadas, y las conocemos y sabemos que van a desesperar si la demora es muy grande por lo que queremos conseguir ayuda y como varias veces se han ofrecido nos pareció una buena idea, pero no cualquiera sabe inglés y no cualquiera es bueno traduciendo, y como no queremos tener más trabajo aún, corrigiendo oración por oración, vamos a hacer una pequeña prueba, que consiste en mandar traducido lo siguiente al correo del blog: email@example.com
As much as I loved casual, and as steamy as August had been so far, I knew jeans and a cotton tank top weren’t going to cut it tonight. We were heading to a rave. At best, it was going to be a party for vamps, and I needed to look the part; at worst, it was going to be a battle of vamps, and I was going to need the protection.
No, tonight was a night for leather. Well, leather pants, at least, since it was much too hot for the full ensemble.
I know, stereotypical vampire. I had that thought every time I pulled the leather out of my closet. But you ask any Harley rider who’s experienced road rash, and he’ll explain why he wears leather. Because it works. Steel can slice, and bullets can pierce. Leather makes those things a little harder to get through.
I pulled a longish, flowy, gray tank top from the closet and paired that with the leather pants, then pulled my hair into a high ponytail, leaving a fringe of bangs across my forehead. I skipped the Cadogan medal—I was attempting to fly undercover, after all—but I pulled a long necklace made of strands of pewter-colored beads over the tank. With my black boots, the ensemble looked half-runway, half-party-girl. It didn’t scream vampire soldier, which I figured could only help. Element of surprise, and all that.
I slid my dagger, inscribed on one end with my position, into my right boot, then stuck my phone and beeper into a tiny clutch purse. I wouldn’t take the purse or the beeper to the event, but at least I wouldn’t have to carry a handful of gadgets to the car. En masse, they weren’t exactly ergonomic.
I’d just added blush and lip gloss when there was a knock at the door. Luc, I assumed, having been sent upstairs by Ethan for a last-minute strategy session.
“About time,” I said, pulling the door open.
Green eyes stared back at me. Ethan hadn’t sent Luc upstairs; he’d come on his own. He scanned my outfit. “Date night?”
“I’m trying to fit in with the rest of the partygoers,” I reminded him.
“So I see. You’ve got weapons?”
“A dagger in my boot. Anything else would be too obvious.”
The emotion was clear in his eyes, but I needed to stay focused. I kept my voice neutral, my words careful. “I’ll be safe. And Noah will have my back.”
Ethan nodded. “I’ve updated Luc. The guards are all on standby. If you call, they come running, immediately. If you need anything, you call one of them. If anything happens to you—”
“I’m immortal,” I interrupted, reminding him of the biological clock he’d stopped from ticking. “And I have no interest in taking liberties with my immortality.”
Con esto creo que alcanza!
Cuanto antes me envíen sus traducciones MEJOR!
Gracias! Y espero que a alguien le interese ^^
NOTA: Traducir es más que pegar el texto en el traductor de Google :_