If you never get lost, you'll never be found…Twenty-one-year-old Natalia Stolfi is saying good-bye to the past-and turning her life upside down with a trip to the land down under. For the next six months, she'll act like a carefree exchange student, not a girl sinking under the weight of painful memories. Everything is going according to plan until she meets a brooding surfer with hypnotic green eyes and the troubling ability to see straight through her act.
Bran Lockhart is having the worst year on record. After the girl of his dreams turned into a nightmare, he moved back home to Melbourne to piece his life together. Yet no amount of disappointment could blind him to the pretty California girl who gets past all his defenses. He's never wanted anyone the way he wants Talia. But when Bran gets a stark reminder of why he stopped believing in love, he and Talia must decide if what they have is once in a lifetime . . . or if they were meant to live a world apart.
Bran Lockhart is having the worst year on record. After the girl of his dreams turned into a nightmare, he moved back home to Melbourne to piece his life together. Yet no amount of disappointment could blind him to the pretty California girl who gets past all his defenses. He's never wanted anyone the way he wants Talia. But when Bran gets a stark reminder of why he stopped believing in love, he and Talia must decide if what they have is once in a lifetime . . . or if they were meant to live a world apart.
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After studying at the University of Montana-Missoula, Lia Riley scoured the world armed only with a backpack, overconfidence and a terrible sense of direction. When not torturing heroes (because c'mon, who doesn't love a good tortured hero?), Lia herds unruly chickens, camps, beach combs, daydreams about as-of-yet unwritten books, wades through a mile-high TBR pile and schemes yet another trip. She and her family live mostly in Northern California.
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Excerpt:
“A few meters more, you’re almost there.”
It’s like we’re at the end of some old-school adventure tale, one
where the heroes are stoic even as the blizzard rages, avalanches fall, and
death hovers like a benevolent ghost.
Well, Bran is the hero.
I’m like one of the minor sidekicks who goes down during some
important turning point. My death might even inspire the hero on his journey or
teach him a valuable lesson. But at this point in the flick, the minor sidekick
should be well and truly dead. Not white-knuckling a column of dolerite rock,
thighs gripping the stone like it’s the world’s best lover.
“That’s it, Talia,” Bran’s voice is encouraging. “You’re holding
tight, that’s great. Now, I’m going to need you to release your left hand and
reach up a few inches to grab the next hold.”
I grit my teeth. The way he talks, you’d think I’m scaling Everest.
Or at least Kilimanjaro. Instead—
“’Scuse, us, we’ll be by in a tic. That’s the way, Andy, right
around the lady.”
I’m the lady. Andy is a kid who doesn’t look a day over seven who
scrambles past me in a flurry of Spider-Man shoes and gap-toothed smiles. His
parents bring up the rear, smiling up at their wild monkey child with obvious
pride.
And they aren’t the first group to pass me.
Five Swedish women, a couple, and a guy who looked to be in his
mid-seventies have also shot past me during the course of the last quarter
hour.
The top is so close I can taste it. Bran is being nothing but
encouraging, but below me is a twenty-foot drop. Not enough to kill me, unless
I fall with some sort of suicidal intent, but enough to make me feel incredibly
uneasy about the boulder field.
Bran eases toward me. “Talia, take my hand.”
“Can’t let go.”
“Talia.”
“No.” This is it; this is the reason. Bran isn’t going to admit it
here, while I’m bordering on a panic attack on a trail being conquered by
elementary school children and senior citizens, but there’s no doubt this is A
REASON to lose interest in me. I’m giving him a big capital-lettered reason,
but I can’t stop. I physically can’t let go.
“Talia. Take a deep breath.”
“Breath taken.”
“Another.”
“Okay.”
“Give me your hand, no bullshit. I want your fingers in mine.
You’ll be safe. I’m going to keep you safe. I need you to trust me.”
Somehow I do it. I give him my fingers. He assists me up. We’re
doing this together. My head clears the boulder and I can see the steel marker
that identifies the summit ahead. Holy shit, he’s right. I’m going to reach the
top.
A few more steps, easy now, and we’re there. The kid in the Spider-Man
shoes munches a Vegemite sandwich. I want to scoop him up in a smooshy squeeze.
Except his parents would likely object, so I switch gears to give Bran a long
and passionate kiss.
“I knew you’d get here,” he says.
“I didn’t.”
He turns me to see the view, his hands tight around my waist. “Your
place is here, Captain, in the sun,” he whispers in my ear. “Don’t ever forget
that.”
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