by: Rayna York
Genre: Teen/Young Adult Contemporary Romance
Release Date: June 15, 2024
Publisher: Toad Tree Press
They say time heals all wounds, but they never mention the scars left behind.
Serena McNeal, outgoing and ambitious, is ready to escape her small town as soon as she graduates high school. Knox prefers to live in the shadows, finding comfort in his anonymity. As their worlds collide and the ghosts of Knox’s troubled past resurface, more than their newly-created bond will be tested. Because now, every decision made could be the difference between sharing a future together or facing a reality where neither one survives.
“Are you listening to me?” Rowan grips me by the shoulder, stopping me in the middle of the hallway as students continue around us like water around a boulder.
“What did you say?” I’m only half listening because my mind is racing through all the things I need to get done after I finish work today. Her mouth falls open. “Kidding,” I say. “I’m kidding. I don’t have an opinion either way.”
“But you have to,” she says half-hysterically, throwing her hands in the air. “It’s prom! The theme is everything. And I just think ‘A Night Under the Stars’ is absurdly unoriginal. They should have had a vote with the entire school, not just the student council. They’re all a bunch of geeks, anyway.”
I scrunch up my face in distaste. “No, they’re not.”
“She didn’t mean it like that.” Tish gives Rowan a dirty look, concerned for everyone’s feelings, as usual.
“Yes. She did,” I snap. “Just because someone is intelligent or doesn’t conform to social norms doesn’t make them a geek. And why are you just commenting about this now? They announced it months ago.”
Rowan shrugs, the messy top knot of black coils bobbing on top of her head as she does. “I just noticed the posters.”
“A student vote would have been better,” Tish throws out, probably to stop an argument from unfolding. “The student council could have picked four theme ideas, and the students could have voted.”
At the ridiculousness of this conversation, I roll my eyes away from her and see an unmistakable figure in a dark-hooded sweatshirt and jeans walking past us. Seeing him this close, I realize the guy is not only huge but seriously muscular.
“It’s him!” I smack Rowan’s arm several times in excitement.
“Ow.” She bats my hand away, annoyed. “Why are you hitting me? It’s who?”
“The guy.”
“What guy?” Tish follows my line of sight.
“I’ll be right back.” I can’t believe he goes to our school and I’ve never seen him before. Maybe he’s new to town. It would explain why he suddenly appeared on my radar.
Why do I even care? He’s just another guy with his head downcast, hands jammed into his front pockets, trying to be invisible.
No, there’s something vaguely familiar about him, which doesn’t make sense. I’ve never even seen his face.
“Hey,” I say, coming up beside him.
He doesn’t respond. Just continues walking.
Maybe he’s shy?
He could have impaired hearing.
I try again, this time, gripping his forearm. “Have you been following me?” I tease, thinking he’d recognize me from the other day. When he stops short and glacier-blue eyes bore into mine, I quickly realize my mistake and drop my hand immediately. “Sorry,” I say, my heart beating double time.
A loud noise causes both our heads to turn down the hall. Two guys are pushing each other—a fight is ready to explode. When I turn back, the guy has disappeared into the crowd.
“What did you say?” I’m only half listening because my mind is racing through all the things I need to get done after I finish work today. Her mouth falls open. “Kidding,” I say. “I’m kidding. I don’t have an opinion either way.”
“But you have to,” she says half-hysterically, throwing her hands in the air. “It’s prom! The theme is everything. And I just think ‘A Night Under the Stars’ is absurdly unoriginal. They should have had a vote with the entire school, not just the student council. They’re all a bunch of geeks, anyway.”
I scrunch up my face in distaste. “No, they’re not.”
“She didn’t mean it like that.” Tish gives Rowan a dirty look, concerned for everyone’s feelings, as usual.
“Yes. She did,” I snap. “Just because someone is intelligent or doesn’t conform to social norms doesn’t make them a geek. And why are you just commenting about this now? They announced it months ago.”
Rowan shrugs, the messy top knot of black coils bobbing on top of her head as she does. “I just noticed the posters.”
“A student vote would have been better,” Tish throws out, probably to stop an argument from unfolding. “The student council could have picked four theme ideas, and the students could have voted.”
At the ridiculousness of this conversation, I roll my eyes away from her and see an unmistakable figure in a dark-hooded sweatshirt and jeans walking past us. Seeing him this close, I realize the guy is not only huge but seriously muscular.
“It’s him!” I smack Rowan’s arm several times in excitement.
“Ow.” She bats my hand away, annoyed. “Why are you hitting me? It’s who?”
“The guy.”
“What guy?” Tish follows my line of sight.
“I’ll be right back.” I can’t believe he goes to our school and I’ve never seen him before. Maybe he’s new to town. It would explain why he suddenly appeared on my radar.
Why do I even care? He’s just another guy with his head downcast, hands jammed into his front pockets, trying to be invisible.
No, there’s something vaguely familiar about him, which doesn’t make sense. I’ve never even seen his face.
“Hey,” I say, coming up beside him.
He doesn’t respond. Just continues walking.
Maybe he’s shy?
He could have impaired hearing.
I try again, this time, gripping his forearm. “Have you been following me?” I tease, thinking he’d recognize me from the other day. When he stops short and glacier-blue eyes bore into mine, I quickly realize my mistake and drop my hand immediately. “Sorry,” I say, my heart beating double time.
A loud noise causes both our heads to turn down the hall. Two guys are pushing each other—a fight is ready to explode. When I turn back, the guy has disappeared into the crowd.
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Rayna York grew up with hippie parents who liked to adventure. Where change was the norm, books were her constant—a way to escape. As an adult, many careers came and went, but writing has always been her passion. Her contemporary, coming-of-age love stories are often inspired by dreams, which she captures in her notebook with barely an eye open. When she’s not hidden away in her writing shack, Rayna enjoys playing pickleball, losing herself in a good book, or watching a movie. Places to find Rayna York:
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