Two childhood sweethearts get their second chance at love in Claudia Burgoa newest small town romance, this one set in the quaint town of Luna Harbor, and I have an awesome sneak peek for you. It’s the story of Mane and Nydia who were once inseparable, but their relationship ended abruptly and with no closure for either of them. When they meet again years later, Lydia is still living at home, and desperately working to keep her lavender farm from failing, while Mane is a famous rock star, and back in Luna Harbor with his bandmates. There is still a world of hurt and hostility between them when they meet again, both holding onto their anger even as old feelings start to resurface, but living in a small town forces them to finally embrace their past and give each other another chance.
Excerpt
I live in a different dimension called Luna Harbor. The place where everything is chaos, and I don’t know what I’m doing. No one listens to me, and we live in anarchy.
The anarchy that’s led by Iskander. Someone should tell him that in anarchy, everyone does whatever they want. It’s not a he does what he wants and the rest have to obey his orders. That’d be a dictatorship, and I’m not taking orders from him. Well, except I have to wait for his bedroom furniture to arrive because everyone else is busy.
How much did he pay to have the furniture delivered into Luna Harbor on a Saturday evening? A lot, but he has the money. I should charge him for being his assistant.
Once the furniture is inside, I head to the Wicked Luna Sports Bar. It’s my turn to work there, and when I enter, the gorgeous hostess smiles. “Welcome to Wicked Luna.” When she turns up to look at me, she frowns. “What are you doing here?”
“Sweet, little Nydia,” I say with the same condescending tone Iskander used when we were younger. She always hated it. Taunting her is more fun than I thought it’d be. Why didn’t I do it before? “In case no one has told you this, my grandfather owns the place, and I work for him.”
“I’m not little,” she almost growls. “Isn’t there anyone to take your shift?”
“I could ask the same,” I say. “Why are you here? Don’t you have plants to harvest or…what is it that you do in that lab?”
She glares at me.
“No, really, I’d love to know. I’m still trying to figure out what you do. I thought you were going to be a scientist, but you ended up selling plants. That’s what you do, right?”
She looks around me and says, “Welcome to Luna Harbor.”
Someone behind me says, “Hi, table for three.”
“Of course, follow me,” she says.
Three teenagers walk behind her. I wonder if she’s going to card them or if we stopped caring about the age of the patrons and we give alcohol to minors now. It’s a fair question. I haven’t been here in years. I remember my grandfather waiting for me to turn twenty-one so I’d be able to work after eight.
“So why are you working tonight?” I ask again when she’s back. “You worked all day in the store.”
“It’s none of your business. I’m sure you’re covering for Iskander, so you would know.”
I am covering for my brother, but I don’t know why I’m here.
“And who are you covering for?”
She shrugs one shoulder. “I’m guessing for Siobhan, you know, since they left together. She said it was an out-of-town date this time. I wonder where he took her. Last time, it was a fancy restaurant close to Lake Washington.”
I lean forward and rest my arms on the hostess’s stand. We’re close. Very close. Her eyes widen, and I love that I have an effect on her.
“They couldn’t have a romantic date here?”
She laughs. “There’s nothing romantic about big-screen TVs, pool tables, and beer.”
“I guess not,” I agree with her. “What do you think is a romantic date?”
“I’m not going to respond to you. In fact, make yourself scarce. I don’t care that you’re the boss or that I have to be around you tonight.”
“See, that’s the part I don’t understand. Why would you be here? You were twisting like a pretzel in yoga, then worked your ass off at the store, and stayed in your lab for a couple of hours after you closed.”
“Are you keeping tabs on me, Cantú?”
I shrug. “I’m just telling you what I saw today. You were hurting last night. Should you be on your feet?”
I don’t wait for her answer before I go to the bar to pick up a stool. Efren says, “Finally, you’re here.”
“I am. Do you need anything?” I ask, lifting the stool.
“No, but where are you going with that?”
“It’s for Nydia. I don’t want her to stand all night.”
He frowns. “You shouldn’t care if she’s standing or not. It’s not your problem. Repeat after me”—he pauses and taps his throat a couple of times—“It. Is. Not. My. Problem. She’s my ex-girlfriend. Things ended up pretty shitty. You don’t want to go back into that hole.”