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F/F, Contemporary Fantasy, Friends-to-Lovers [Coming July 18, 2024 / 15,800 Words] Apple / BN / Kobo / SW / All Buy Links When Ghita Starns decides distance is the solution to her biggest problem, taking a position as keeper of a magical lighthouse is exactly what she needs. Bad enough she's fallen for someone completely out of bounds; if anyone learns the truth, Ghita doesn't know what she'll do. Naoko Tasse-Kimura hates that Ghita is moving two-thousand miles away, especially since Naoko's own magical studies keep her too busy to travel. Ghita may be closest with Naoko's parents, but she's Naoko's friend too, and her absence will be intolerable. Even worse, once Ghita leaves, she starts avoiding Naoko's calls. For Ghita, distance alone isn't enough. She needs to get her stubborn heart under control, one way or another. But Naoko has magic on her side, and she won't let Ghita disappear. "This is a terrible idea." Naoko Tasse-Kimura storms through Ghita's open front door and lets the screen slam shut behind her, then throws her lanky frame down on the last piece of furniture still standing in the increasingly empty apartment. The couch creaks under her dramatic entrance, and the fluttery fabric of Naoko's summer dress gives a flounce as though in agreement. "And I'll have you know, my parents agree with me. They're just not saying it to your face because they're trying to respect your boundaries, or whatever. But they think accepting this job is the most ridiculous thing you've ever done." "I'll take that under advisement." Ghita keeps right on packing, carefully crumpling enough paper into the open box to make sure the breakables won't take damage while they're in storage. She's unsurprised to learn that Shirou and Cara disapprove more strongly than they've admitted, but there's no point altering her trajectory. She doesn't let herself glance directly at the young woman glowering at her from the couch, but it's not as though she needs to look in order to have a clear picture in her mind. Ghita has studied Naoko's features far more closely than she will ever confess, from the sharp chin to the glinting brown eyes, the jet black hair framing her face at a deliberately uneven slant. In her peripheral vision, Ghita sees that Naoko is wearing a longer skirt than usual, the bright blue material falling nearly to her knees. Naoko slouches on the creaky old sofa, making herself impossible to ignore. Her gangly limbs take up space like she alone has ever belonged there, and the impression has no business being so goddamn compelling. After several minutes in which Ghita continues packing, pretending all the while not to notice the weight of scrutiny following her every movement, Naoko asks more softly, "Why are you going?" She sounds plaintive now instead of grouchy, more like the teenager Ghita used to know than the twenty-seven-year-old perpetual grad student she has become. "Michigan is so far away, Ghita. It's like a whole other planet." Ghita huffs an exasperated laugh at this assessment, shaking her head as she wraps the last of a set of delicate picture frames in crinkly brown paper. She seals the box with a noisy pull of packing tape. One more package down. One box closer to gone. She doesn't immediately search out her next task. Instead, she sits herself more comfortably on the floor, crossing her legs and tilting her head from side to side in an effort to loosen the tension from her neck. She's been packing for hours—since well before the sun came up—and now as she finally glances around her emptying living room, she finds the view surreal. Bare floor, barren walls, empty coat hooks. Even the curtains have been taken down from the windows, letting harsh sunlight cut through the little apartment and carve bright shapes across the mountains of cardboard. "A long plane ride isn't another planet." Ghita quirks an eyebrow and finally looks directly at Naoko, watching her scowl deepen. "It is if you can't get on a plane without breaking your contract." Naoko's eyes narrow. "You're not allowed to leave your post for more than six hours at a time. How are you supposed to have a life under those conditions?" Ghita's not sure what to do with the fact that Naoko read the fine print of the contract. She must have gotten a copy from Cara or Shirou, both of whom Ghita consulted before signing anything. Between Cara's razor-sharp skills as a lawyer and Shirou's magical background, Ghita needed to know what she was getting herself into. Impulsive as she's being, she's not so reckless as to hand over five years of her life without reassurances. Instead of addressing Naoko's unexpectedly detailed knowledge of her situation, Ghita says with a careful measure of honesty, "I'll miss you too, kiddo." "Don't call me kiddo," Naoko snaps, with such ferocity that Ghita actually leans back. Ghita blinks at her, absorbing this new information. She has no idea how to interpret the forceful reaction. Naoko first began to hate the habitual nickname when she was a teenager—so for a long time Ghita didn't use it—but she hasn't protested its return in the past couple years, as Ghita has made an ever-more-desperate effort to remind her brain that certain lines are not to be crossed. She has known Cara and Shirou for nearly the entire span of Naoko's life. "I'm sorry," Ghita says, caution in every syllable. "I didn't realize it still bothers you." New tension pulls Naoko's shoulders taut, then melts away into a defeated slump as Naoko admits, "I don't want you to go." The words are quiet and serious. They sound a little too close to heartbreak, and the guilt of letting down a friend is almost enough to make Ghita reconsider her decision. Almost. "I have to do this." Ghita blurts the words in a thoughtless rush. It feels like a dangerous confession, but she wills herself calm. She hasn't admitted anything damning. Yes, Naoko might latch on like a bulldog, tenacious as she is. But she won't reach the conclusion hidden behind the words. She can't possibly. Sure enough, Naoko's eyes flash with emotion, and she leans forward over her knees to demand, "Why? Why are you so dead set on doing something so completely unnecessary? I thought you liked working with Dad. You have a good life here. All your friends are here. And you're just going to leave us all behind?" Valid questions, all. The last time Ghita upended her life so thoroughly was when she told her ex-husband she wanted a divorce, and even that tumultuous era of her life didn't involve putting so much distance between herself and everyone she most adores. "Phones exist," Ghita points out, instead of acknowledging these points. "Not to mention airplanes. And the internet." "They're not the same," Naoko sulks. "No. They're not." A twinge twists in Ghita's gut at just how far she is about to put herself from her entire support network—the inevitable consequence of putting herself so far away from this confounding young woman. "But I'm not leaving forever. It's a five-year contract. Hell, maybe by the time I come back, you'll finally have finished your thesis." Naoko's laugh comes out startled and warm. "Fuck you," she says. But she's smiling, and the softer expression is such a relief that Ghita's own stocky shoulders loosen from where she hadn't even realized her posture was so tight. Five years will hopefully be plenty of time for other goals, like the one behind this entire endeavor: making Ghita's stubborn heart let go of the worst idea she's ever had, ideally without ever letting on that she's got a problem in the first place. She is forty-eight years old. She shouldn't need to run away to fix this problem without putting Naoko in an uncomfortable position. Her heart shouldn't be this intractable. But the problem has proven persistent. It's time for more desperate measures. If distance is what it takes to move past a troublesome infatuation, then that's exactly what Ghita is going to obtain. "It won't be forever," she repeats, making herself meet the piercing umber of Naoko's eyes. "I promise." Apple / BN / Kobo / SW / All Buy Links |
Cover design by Yolande Kleinn ISBN 978-1-946316-46-2 |