This Summer
Release Date: 07/09/14
Carina UK
Summary from Goodreads:
Before college, before responsibilities, Hadley Beauman and best friend Lily are determined to have a summer to remember. There will be all the usual dramas - ex-boyfriends who don't seem to know what 'ex' means, pesky younger brothers with unrequited crushes, but what Hadley didn't anticipate was the out-of-the-blue return of the seriously hot boy-next-door, Will Carson. The boy who broke her heart when he skipped town two years ago.
Will may have shot up a foot and filled out (oh yes), but inside he carries the weight of guilt - for leaving, for coming back... Now he's just passing through to tie up loose ends but it's clear the old chemistry still crackles between him and Hadley. Trouble is, it's built on two years of lies...
This summer might just be the best time of their lives, but is Hadley ready for everything to change - again?
This summer might just be the best time of their lives, but is Hadley ready for everything to change - again?
Excerpt
My hands grip the
steering wheel, tightening with each rolling mile towards the house
I’d locked up almost two years ago. In the thirty-six hours of
driving I had the urge to turn back at least a hundred times. But
this was the last time I’d ever be in Spring Falls. Once the house
was sold I’d slam closed that chapter of my life.
The green sign for
Bryn Street appears from behind the leave of an overgrown tree at the
corner. I suck a breath in through my teeth and turn the wheel.
I keep my eyes on
my childhood home, growing larger as I near. I break out of the
tunnel vision when I pass the Beauman house. I don't expect anyone to
be home, considering we're due at the camp in less than an hour. I
know Mr. Beauman will give me leave, considering I'm doing him a
favor.
A blue car sits in
my driveway as I pull into it, turning off the truck. I flip my phone
open just as a woman gets out of the car.
The line picks up
on the first ring. “Mornin’!” Aunt Mabel exclaims.
My chest squeezes
at the sound of her voice. “Mornin’.” I hold a finger up to the
woman outside the truck. She nods, walking toward the house with a
ring of keys. Not that I don’t have one. “Although it’s almost
noon here. How y’all doing?”
“We’re just
fine, sweetheart. I’m assumin’ you got home okay?”
This place isn't
my home. My home is with her. “Yes, I’m here.”
“Now off with
you, we can carry on later.”
“Love you,” I
say.
“Love you too.”
She’s the first to hang up.
I toss the phone
into the cup holder and grab the bag from the seat next to me and
sling it over my shoulder as I get out of the car. I stride up the
driveway and the real estate agent, Trudy, turns around, grinning
with a set of gray teeth.
“Welcome back,
William.”
I clear my throat.
“It’s just Will.”
“Oh, sorry about
that. I’ll just let you inside”
“I have a key.
Listen, can we talk later? I’m late for work.”
She blinks a few
times but nods. “Sure thing. Let me just get you the paperwork and
you fill it out at your leisure.”
She run-walks down
the driveway, her heels looking as if they were about to snap and
leans through the open window of her car pulling out a large folder.
“These are just the standard contracts,” she says on the way back
up the drive. “Just take a look at them and let me know if
everything is okay?”
“Yes ma’am.”
She beams. “How
polite of you. Well I’ll let you be on your way. My card is in
there, call me with any questions.”
“Sure.”
She waves her long
fingers at me and goes to her car.
I turn to the
house and fight the urge to get back into the truck and get the hell
out of here. I pull the single key from my pocket, the one that
burned against my leg since Mabel handed it to me three days ago. I
push it into the keyhole and turn. I allow the door to open in front
of me, my feet planted to the ground. The door ricochets off the wall
and starts to return, but I enter the house before I lose my nerve.
I bump the door
closed with my foot. The air in the house is stale, lingering with
the spicy scent of whiskey from that final night. I peer into the
living room, which needs a serious cleaning. My nose wrinkles at the
amount of dust on the fireplace mantel. I head into the kitchen and
open the door to the basement. I don’t need lights to find what I’m
looking for, not that they work anyway. I find the electric panel and
flip on the switches. The house hums to life. I take the steps two at
a time and am back in the kitchen. The clock above the stove blinks
12:00. I check the time on my phone. I should leave soon.
I round the corner
and take the stairs to the second floor, ignoring the two bedrooms on
the right side of the hallway, and fling open the middle door on the
left. My shoulders droop and my bag falls to the floor. My room is
exactly how I left it. An outdated PC sits on the desk I made in wood
shop, still unstained. A full-sized bed takes up most of the room. I
make my way to the window, pushing aside the navy blue curtains that
match the bedspread, revealing Hadley’s bedroom window. My heart
lurches at the thought of her. Soon enough I’ll see her again.
A small bright
orange piece of yarn still hangs from her sill, barely noticeable to
anyone who wasn’t looking. At ten I thought it was the greatest
idea to build a zip-line between our houses using Hadley’s
grandmother’s knitting yarn.
I tear my eyes
away from the window and let the curtain fall. I cross the room to
the closet. I didn’t take much the night I left. I grab a black
t-shirt from the hanger and toss it on the bed, lifting the same one
I’d worn for three days over my head. I pull on the black shirt and
bring the fabric to my nose. Good enough.
I take a deep
breath and leave the room. Here goes nothing.
About the Author
Katlyn Duncan was born and raised in a small town in western Massachusetts. Her overactive imagination involved invisible friends, wanting to be a Disney Princess and making up her own stories. Her bibliophile mom always encouraged her love of reading and that stayed with her since. Even though she works full time in the medical field Katlyn has always made time for books, whether she is reading or writing them.
Katlyn Duncan was born and raised in a small town in western Massachusetts. Her overactive imagination involved invisible friends, wanting to be a Disney Princess and making up her own stories. Her bibliophile mom always encouraged her love of reading and that stayed with her since. Even though she works full time in the medical field Katlyn has always made time for books, whether she is reading or writing them.
Katlyn now lives in southern Connecticut with her husband and adorable Wheaten Terrier and she is thrilled to finally share her stories with the world.
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