Night for Day

Informationen zum Autor Roselle Lim Klappentext "Two people destined to be together, but to never see each other again, fight against the greatest odds in this powerful and moving fantasy novel by critically acclaimed author Roselle Lim. Exes Ward Dunbar and Camille Buhay thought they would never see each other again. They had broken up to pursue their dream jobs on opposite sides of the country - her to New York City, and him to Los Angeles. But years later, they unexpectedly reconnect in London, where they are interviewing for similar jobs. The spark they feel when they meet again - the attraction comes back like muscle memory, and they are reminded of what they had lost. When Ward and Camille discover they both got the job working opposing shifts, they vow to give their relationship another try. Ward starts the day shift and finds the immortal clientele unusual and dazzling. When he clocks out at the end of the day, he finds the door locked and himself trapped in the building. After a horrific first night shift contending with restless spirits and ghosts, Camille is also unable to escape. In their respective prisons, they discover that they're able to talk to each other a few minutes before dawn. This fleeting encounter incites longing for each other, but their promise to be together feels impossible. Because they are caught in the middle of a war of the gods - and their choices will determine the outcome"-- Leseprobe 1 Camille Present day Mistakes were meant to be in the rearview mirror-not walking, breathing, and able to cup your cheek to stoke every single smoldering memory long buried for self-preservation. He shouldn't whisper my name as if he never stopped doing so for the past two years. Even now, my fingers itched to reacquaint myself with the beauty of his face, then to trace the slight cleft in his chin down his smooth throat, and ever farther down, to where our once shared intimacy implied permission and invitation. "Camille, I never thought I'd see you again, let alone in London." The way my name rolled off his tongue and slid through his lips always elicited the same response-it felt like a hot kiss at the nape of my neck. Ward Dunbar. The mistake I'd commit again and again even knowing that the result would always be heartbreak. "Job interview. If I get it, I'll be moving here." I adjusted the neckline of my buttoned dress shirt, expanding the view of bronzed skin below my collarbones. My traitorous body always reacted to him when he was in physical proximity. Easier to shut down my hormones through the sterility of a black glass screen. He brushed an errant dark blond strand off his forehead. "I'm here for the same. Though I've passed the interview part." The skies overhead darkened-clusters of gray clouds huddling together in conference. It had been sunny five minutes ago. Late spring weather in London changed on a whim with wicked fickleness, and we were sliding into the heat of summer. I packed an umbrella and a cardigan in my lavender vegan leather tote, but I didn't account for him. My purse didn't contain what I'd need to cope with the nuclear fallout of a failed relationship. Avoidance therapy was the only method that worked. Putting thousands of miles between us and preventing myself from checking his social media accounts fueled a comfortable sense of forgetfulness-the kind that allowed me to function on a daily basis, but didn't prevent an occasional damaging slipup. It didn't hurt that he hadn't had any long-term relationships since then. Moving to Manhattan helped, and London should have cured me completely. I was wrong. Two days ago, I slipped and checked his Instagram. The selfie at an outdoor bookstall on the South Bank caused me to stop breathing for a few seconds. He was here and in the same city. I wasn't thinking when I sent him a direct message asking to meet at this bo...

Autorentext

Roselle Lim

Klappentext

"Two people destined to be together, but to never see each other again, fight against the greatest odds in this powerful and moving fantasy novel by critically acclaimed author Roselle Lim. Exes Ward Dunbar and Camille Buhay thought they would never see each other again. They had broken up to pursue their dream jobs on opposite sides of the country - her to New York City, and him to Los Angeles. But years later, they unexpectedly reconnect in London, where they are interviewing for similar jobs. The spark they feel when they meet again - the attraction comes back like muscle memory, and they are reminded of what they had lost. When Ward and Camille discover they both got the job working opposing shifts, they vow to give their relationship another try. Ward starts the day shift and finds the immortal clientele unusual and dazzling. When he clocks out at the end of the day, he finds the door locked and himself trapped in the building. After a horrific first night shift contending with restless spirits and ghosts, Camille is also unable to escape. In their respective prisons, they discover that they're able to talk to each other a few minutes before dawn. This fleeting encounter incites longing for each other, but their promise to be together feels impossible. Because they are caught in the middle of a war of the gods - and their choices will determine the outcome"--

Leseprobe
1

Camille

Present day

Mistakes were meant to be in the rearview mirror-not walking, breathing, and able to cup your cheek to stoke every single smoldering memory long buried for self-preservation.

He shouldn't whisper my name as if he never stopped doing so for the past two years.

Even now, my fingers itched to reacquaint myself with the beauty of his face, then to trace the slight cleft in his chin down his smooth throat, and ever farther down, to where our once shared intimacy implied permission and invitation.

"Camille, I never thought I'd see you again, let alone in London." The way my name rolled off his tongue and slid through his lips always elicited the same response-it felt like a hot kiss at the nape of my neck.

Ward Dunbar. The mistake I'd commit again and again even knowing that the result would always be heartbreak.

"Job interview. If I get it, I'll be moving here." I adjusted the neckline of my buttoned dress shirt, expanding the view of bronzed skin below my collarbones. My traitorous body always reacted to him when he was in physical proximity. Easier to shut down my hormones through the sterility of a black glass screen.

He brushed an errant dark blond strand off his forehead. "I'm here for the same. Though I've passed the interview part."

The skies overhead darkened-clusters of gray clouds huddling together in conference. It had been sunny five minutes ago. Late spring weather in London changed on a whim with wicked fickleness, and we were sliding into the heat of summer. I packed an umbrella and a cardigan in my lavender vegan leather tote, but I didn't account for him. My purse didn't contain what I'd need to cope with the nuclear fallout of a failed relationship.

Avoidance therapy was the only method that worked. Putting thousands of miles between us and preventing myself from checking his social media accounts fueled a comfortable sense of forgetfulness-the kind that allowed me to function on a daily basis, but didn't prevent an occasional damaging slipup. It didn't hurt that he hadn't had any long-term relationships since then. Moving to Manhattan helped, and London should have cured me completely.

I was wrong.

Two days ago, I slipped and checked his Instagram. The selfie at an outdoor bookstall on the South Bank caused me to stop breathing for a few seconds. He was here and in the same city. I wasn't thinking when I sent him a direct message asking to meet at this bookshop. It was pure instinct-I turned off my brain an…