Title: Until We Meet Again
Author: Renee Collins
Genre: YA
Publisher: Sourcebooks Fire
Release Date: 3rd November 2015
BLURB supplied by Sourcebooks Fire
They exist in two different centuries, but their love
defies time
Country
clubs and garden parties. The last thing Cassandra wants is to spend the summer
before her senior year marooned in a snooty Massachusetts shore town. Cass
craves drama and adventure, which is hard when she just feels stuck.
But
when a dreamy stranger shows up on her family’s private beach, claiming that it
is his property—and that the year is 1925—Cass is swept into a mystery a
hundred years in the making. As she searches for answers in the present, Cass
discovers a truth that thrusts Lawrence’s life into jeopardy. It won’t matter
which century he is from if he won’t live to see tomorrow.
Desperate
to save the boy who’s come to mean everything to her, Cassandra must find a way
to change history…or risk losing Lawrence forever.
PURCHASE LINKS
EXCERPT
Prologue
The beach is empty. In the fading glow of
twilight, the waves roll up to the rocks in sweeping curls of white foam. The
sand glistens like wet steel. The grass bends low in the briny night wind.
Always changing, yet always the same. I imagine the beach has looked like this
since the beginning of time.
Stepping onto the soft terrain, I feel
transported to some ancient evening, eons ago. Long before my uncle claimed
this land as his own. Long before man even dared to taint these shores.
I wish the fleeting vision was true.
My gaze falls to the full moon’s
reflection on the water. It’s broken into shards on the black sea, tossed about
with each wave. A small, white shape catches my eye. It’s in the glare of the
reflection, so I nearly miss it.
I step into the wave break. A seabird,
dead and limp, is rolling back and forth in the foam. Her wings are spread
open, her white-and-brown-speckled breast exposed.
I lift the small creature into my palm. What killed
her? I
wonder. There’s no sign of injury. Did she drown in the sea? Pinching her
brittle, fragile leg gently between my fingers, I notice a small metal band
snapped around her ankle. The sight of it startles me. Examining it closer, I
catch the faint impression of numbers and letters etched into the band, but
something in me resists reading them. I can’t say why.
What does it matter, anyhow? The poor
creature is dead. And she reminds me that there is no going back. Time howls
on, like the wind. And it is not only weaker creatures like this bird that
succumb to it. Even the strongest man will fall before its crushing forward
push.
I set the bird out into the water. As the
tide pulls her away, I accept this truth. Soon the summer will be over. Too
soon.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Renee Collins grew up on a beach in Hawaii. Sadly, she
never met anyone from the past on those shores, but she did go on to get a
degree in History, which is almost the same. She currently lives in Colorado
with her family......
Connect
with Renee Collins
PRAISE FOR THE BOOK
“Mystery, romance, time travel, and
danger…this one has it all…Suspenseful,
poignant, and romantic: well worth the read.” — Kirkus Reviews
“A hazy, romantic mystery that might appeal to fans of Nicholas Sparks.” — School of Library Journal
“Until We Meet Again is tragically beautiful with twists
you won’t see coming.”—Martina Boone, author of Compulsion and the Heirs of Watson
Island trilogy
"A beach house, a mystery, and time-travel love make
Until We Meet Again a romantic, engaging read."—Deb Caletti, National Book
Award Finalist for Honey, Baby,
Sweetheart
***GIVEAWAY***
The Prize?
3 copies of Until We Meet Again
a Rafflecopter giveaway
CHAPTER ONE
CASSANDRA
3 copies of Until We Meet Again
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CHAPTER ONE
CASSANDRA
Date: July 8.
Days at my mom and stepdad’s
new summer home: 22
Hours spent at the froufrou
country club: 0
Hours spent on the fancy
private beach: 0
Hours spent lying on the couch
bemoaning my lack of a life: somewhere in the 100s.
Number of times Mom has told
me to make some new friends and stop moping around: also somewhere in the 100s.
To paraphrase Shakespeare: Oh,
for a muse of fire to convey how utterly and completely bored I am.
Given the circumstances, it
should be clear that I have no choice but to try to sneak into my neighbors’
yard and swim in their pool at 2:00 a.m.
My two accomplices are less
than ideal. Travis Howard and Brandon Marks are local royalty of this ritzy,
historic neighborhood slapped on the coast of Massachusetts’s North Shore. Both
have the classic all-American look—tall, sparkling blue eyes, and a crop of
blond hair that’s been gelled to scientific levels of perfection. But given the
circumstances, they’ll have to do.
Brandon can barely keep pace
as we cut along the tailored brush that adorns the Andersons’ back fence. Maybe
because he’s too busy shooting nervous glances behind us.
“We’re being followed,” he
says.
Travis and I exchange a look.
“Chill out, dude,” Travis says.
I sigh. “Seriously. I didn’t
pack my smelling salts, so try not to faint.”
Travis holds out his fist for
a bump.
Brandon is resolute. “At the
very least, we’re being watched. You think these people don’t have security
cameras?”
“No clue,” I say brightly.
“Well, that’s reassuring.”
“I try.”
I probably should have come on
my own. Trouble is, I need a pair of hands to boost me over the fence. My
little brother, Eddie, couldn’t do it, since he’s three. And for obvious
reasons, I couldn’t ask Mom or Frank. That left the only other person I knew
here: Travis.
He and I met at a garden
party. How bourgeois is that? I was so bored I was ready to claw my eyes out.
Then I saw this crazy guy doing a chair dance, to the utter shock of the local
hens, and I decided he might be okay. Travis is pretty cool. He reminds me a
little of my friend Jade back in Ohio. A delightful troublemaker. Having
Travis’s buddy Brandon tagging along, however, has proved to be an unwelcome
change of plans.
It’s late, but humidity still
hangs in the air. Not as oppressive as during the day, but enough to make the
hair against my neck damp. Crickets chirp loudly in the surrounding brush,
which makes me uneasy somehow, as if their incessant noise will draw attention
to us. As if they’re crying, “Look! Look! Look! Look!” to some unseen guard.
Brandon’s nerves must be contagious.
Luckily, I spy the edge of the
fence before I can dwell on my uneasiness for too long.
“We made it,” I say.
Gripping the bars, I look for
a good spot to grab midway up. Travis helps me with the inspection.
“Right over here,” he says,
motioning. “The ground’s a little higher on the other side, and those bushes
will break your fall.”
“Nice,” I say, impressed. “You
have a lot of experience breaking into private property?”
“Yeah, except we usually go
for cash and high-value items. Breaking in to go swimming should be a nice
change of pace.”
I smirk and he gives me a Mr.
Teen USA
wink.
“All right then,” I say.
“Hoist me up.”
Brandon steps in between us.
“Are we seriously doing this? You know, your stepdad’s house has a huge private
beach. If you want to swim so badly, can’t we go there?”
“You’re missing the point,
Brandon.”
“You never explained the
point.”
“Only a fool asks to
understand that which cannot be grasped,” I say, pretending to quote some
ancient philosopher.
Travis blinks. “Dude. That was
deep.”
“I know, right?” I turn back
to Brandon. “See? He gets it.”
“This is really stupid,”
Brandon says, unamused.
I pull out my phone. “So, I
guess you don’t want to be in the group shot then?”
Travis comes to my side and
puts his arm around me. “Sweet! Selfie time.”
I hold out my phone, and he
and I make an overly enthusiastic thumbs-up pose.
Brandon folds his arms impatiently
across his chest. “Can we get on with this?”
“Well, look who’s eager to
have some fun,” I say, giving him a hearty slap on the back. “About time you
came aboard.”
Brandon shakes his head and
holds out his interlocked hands. Travis stands across from him. Together, they
form the perfect ladder. Pushing off of their shoulders, I reach for the top of
the fence. One push and my leg tips over the edge.
“Got it!” I shout. Perched on
the top of the wall, I survey my target. The pool is lit, even with the
Andersons away for the week, and it gleams an appealing turquoise blue in the
dark night. If I had time and my stuff, I’d paint the scene. For now, however,
an immersive, performance-art type of scenario will have to suffice.
“Let’s do this,” I say, hopping
onto the grass below. I land firmly on my feet and unlatch the side gate.
Brandon remains frozen at the
threshold. “Cass…”
“Let me guess. You don’t think
this is such a good idea.”
Travis laughs. “Seriously,
dude, don’t be such a pansy.”
He starts through the gate
when Brandon grabs his arm. “Trav. You know why we can’t.”
Travis says nothing, but a
shadow crosses his expression. I frown. “What?”
When Travis doesn’t reply,
Brandon exhales. “We could go to jail.”
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic—”
“No, seriously. We’re
both…kind of on probation.”
He officially has my
attention. “Explain.”
Travis shakes his head. “It’s
not that big of a deal. Brandon’s freaking out.”
“Then tell me,” I say.
His eyes shift away from mine.
“It was me and Brandon and some of the guys from the lacrosse team. One night a
few weeks ago, we were a little drunk. It was late. And we sort of…broke into a
liquor store.”
Brandon scrambles to explain
before I can react. “It wasn’t my idea. We never would have done it—it was
really stupid, okay? Anyway, we got caught, but Austin’s dad pulled some
strings and got us off with a warning.”
I nod slowly. “I see. So, you
got Daddums to skirt the law for you?”
“It’s not like that,” Travis
says, but I can tell he’s really embarrassed.
Brandon sighs. “I can’t get into trouble.
I’ve got a lacrosse scholarship on the line, and my parents would murder me if
I screwed that up. Trav’s the same.”
I’m not sure which is more
irritating, the sham justice system in these ritzy areas or the fact that
there’s actually a legitimate reason to cut our little excursion short.
I fold my arms. “So after all
this, we’re leaving?”
“I never said that,” Travis
says, defensive.
Brandon glares. “Don’t be an
idiot, Trav. It’s not worth it.”
I can tell by the look Brandon
gives Travis that he actually means I’m not
worth it. Irritation flares up in me.
“Well, I haven’t come all this
way to wuss out now. You boys and your lacrosse scholarships are free to go
back home.”
“Fine,” Brandon says. “I’m out
of here.”
He storms off without a glance
back. Travis lingers, but I can tell he’s seen the error of his ways and wants
to go as well.
“Go ahead and leave,” I say.
“I’m over the fence. I don’t need you anymore.”
Travis sighs. “Brandon’s
right. We should probably get out of here.”
I plant my fists on my waist.
“Nope. I’m going to swim.”
“Cass.”
“Seriously, go. I can take it
from here.”
“I’m not leaving you alone at
two in the morning. It isn’t safe.”
I laugh. “How very gallant,
Travis.”
“I’m serious. It isn’t safe.”
With only a smile, I turn and
head for the pool. He calls my name in a sharp whisper, but I ignore him.
Little garden lights
illuminate the path and surround the flagstone patio. The pool shimmers. You’ve
got to hand it to the Andersons. They have a nice place here.
I circle the pool
thoughtfully, then dip one toe in the water. “Ideal temperature.”
No simple entrance into the
pool will do. It’s got to be diving board or nothing. With determination, I
march to the elaborate diving area and grip the ladder.
Travis calls my name again. I
glance over my shoulder with a sigh. He’s in the shadows by the shrubs.
“You’re crazy,” he
whisper-yells.
“Guilty as charged, Travis, my
dear.” I blow him a kiss and climb the diving-board ladder. My nerve ends
tingle as I approach the long plank. It’s a stupid little thing, but I feel
more alive now than I have all summer.
“Okay. Here goes nothing.
One…two…”
The porch lights snap on with
the fury of midday sun. It startles me so much that I throw my arms up to block
it and almost fall backward into the pool.
“All right, kids,” a man’s
voice booms. “Fun’s over.”
Who knew an uber rich gated
community would have twenty-four-hour guards on staff? Oh wait. I knew. I just
didn’t care.
A big man in a bouncer-type
jacket strides in at the side of the deck, right near where I entered. To my
left, Travis flattens against the house. Trapped. If he runs, the guard will
notice for sure.
The beam of a high-powered
flashlight blasts in my face.
“Get down from there.”
I shoot a look to the gently
rippling pool water, then to Travis, then back to the guard. He’s clearly not
in the mood to screw around.
Something about this situation
feels so symbolic of this whole summer. There I was, about to plunge into that
film internship in New York. Or go to Paris with Jade. Or maybe the
acting camp. I hadn’t really decided. Either way, I was ready to start living
and get out of Nowhereville, Ohio. And what happens?
Mom and Frank get the crazy
idea to rent a beach house in Massachusetts. And because Frank can work
remotely with his finance job, they don’t rent it for a week like a normal family.
They rent it for the entire summer. And of course, they insist on dragging me
and Eddie down with them. To sit on my butt all day and to go to garden
luncheons.
“Where are the two guys I saw
you with?” the guard calls out.
Cameras. Of course there are cameras.
The beam of the flashlight cuts from me to scan the yard. Travis’s whole body
tenses, and a wash of guilt passes over me. As much as I initially wrote
him off as a rich jock, I actually kind of like the guy. He’s been cool and
willing to play along with my ridiculous little shenanigans. I can’t let him
suffer serious, long-lasting consequences.
Meeting Travis’s eyes, I mouth
the word “go” and then wave to the security guard with both arms. “It’s just
me, big guy. Me and my lonesome.”
The flashlight snaps up to me.
My pulse races. What I’m doing, I’m not exactly sure. But the recklessness
feels good.
“I thought I saw someone else,” the guard
says.
He starts to pull the light away to search
the yard. I have to act quickly. Drawing in a breath, I pull my sundress over
my head and toss it on the patio. For a single, humiliating moment, the guard’s
flashlight illuminates my red bra and underwear for all the world to see.
Travis better be halfway home by now.
The guard’s voice is calm but laden with
warning. “Miss…”
“Last one in the water’s a rotten egg!”
Drawing in a breath, I give one good
bounce on the diving board, leap into the air, form the perfect swan position,
and plunge into the water.
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