One Second to Forever

Chapter 1

Here, Kitty Kitty

“Ifucking hate romance novels.”

The small bell chimed obnoxiously above our heads as Serena dragged me through the doorway of Love at First Page, a bookstore we’d happened upon as we strolled down the narrow Portland streets.

Complete with pastel pink curtains and a shimmering silver door, it was the last place I ever wanted to be seen.

My best friend, however, was never going to take no for an answer.

“Oh, come on, Liss. You don’t hate them,” Serena argued gently, adjusting the oversized, red-rimmed glasses sliding down the bridge of her nose. “You just haven’t found the right one yet.”

“You sound like my mom,” I grumbled to my best friend, eyeing the closest shelf lined with pastel covers and titles like Seduced by the Billionaire and A City of Starlight and Bones.

“Your mom is a very wise lady,” Serena threw over her shoulder as she perused the shelves. Of course she would think that; my mom seemed to like her more than she had ever liked me. Carolina Burgess had always wanted a daughter like Serena: beautiful, feminine, confident—and very, very straight.

All things I had always seemed to lack.

“I prefer books where the characters do more than just swoon dramatically over the nearest six-foot tall gargantuan with rippling muscles. And why is everything so…straight?”

Serena laughed softly, scanning the shelves.

This wasn’t the first time she’d heard me rant about my distaste for the genre, but, as always, she brushed it right off.

There was only so many times I could complain about the lack of representation, especially in the books that lined the shelves of most stores.

Excitement shone in her eyes as she took everything in.

She looked perfectly at home here, her long, silky dark hair tumbling down her back.

Her navy skirt and fitted cream turtleneck somehow matched the bookstore’s cozy aesthetic.

In contrast, my worn jeans and oversized hoodie suggested I’d probably stumbled in by mistake.

“Just because they end with a happily ever after doesn’t mean they are without substance,” Serena chided.

“Right, because there’s so much depth to a shirtless pirate who’s secretly a misunderstood, exiled prince,” I teased, picking up a paperback titled Captured Hearts on the High Seas.

“You sure know a lot about them for someone who claims to hate them.” She snatched the book from my hand with a playful glare. “Not everything has to be dark and brooding, Liss.”

“Tell that to my soul.” I winked at her before turning down the next aisle. Despite all my teasing, Serena was right about one thing. We both shared a deep love of reading, even if our tastes couldn’t be more different. It was part of the reason we became friends in the first place.

Ten years ago, right after my eleventh birthday, I’d accidentally stumbled into her at the local library, both reaching for the same dragon rider book.

Love at First Page smelled strongly of lavender candles and old paper, giving it an undeniably comforting, if not a little strange, atmosphere.

Serena quickly vanished among the stacks of books, fully absorbed in titles that almost certainly promised a happily-ever-after.

I wandered aimlessly, searching in vain for anything even remotely dark or intriguing.

Unfortunately, the shelves offered only swooning heroines and impossibly chiseled heroes.

A sudden, soft meow echoed through the store, pulling my attention from a particularly questionable cover illustration involving a green horned man and a very ample-bosomed lady.

“Did you hear that?” I asked, glancing around, but Serena was nowhere to be seen.

“Great,” I muttered, following another faint mewl deeper into the store.

I may have a strong distaste for soft and mushy things, but I loved animals, and I was not about to pass up a chance to play with one. “Here, kitty, kitty!”

Another flash of white caught my eye before disappearing around the next corner, swishing sharply as it moved. Curiosity tugged at me, pulling me deeper into the maze of shelves until I stopped abruptly, my eye on an ornate glass case at the very back of the store.

Moving closer, I got a better look, and all thoughts of the cat I’d been seeking fled from my mind.

The case sat apart from everything else, glowing faintly beneath a flickering fluorescent light.

My breath hitched slightly as I approached, eyes wide in reluctant admiration.

It was beautiful. Inside the case sat one of the most stunning books I had ever seen.

An elaborately embossed cover framed it, detailed in gilded leaves.

An impossibly vivid land was illustrated on it, castles intertwined with thorned crimson roses, tall, grasping spires reaching up to a pristinely pinkish sky.

Journey to Foreverland was elegantly scripted across the front, no author credited.

“Seriously?” I whispered to no one in particular. And yet, despite myself, I felt an odd pull toward the book. As I reached for the case, my gaze fell upon a small wooden sign placed haphazardly beside the case: DO NOT OPEN.

“Very subtle,” I murmured, glancing around. “That’ll definitely stop me.”

“I wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss warnings,” came a gentle, if not slightly amused, voice behind me.

I jumped, spinning around to find a tall man leaning casually against a nearby shelf.

He appeared to be in his fifties, with neatly combed gray hair and intelligent eyes framed by wire-rimmed glasses, dressed impeccably in a vintage tweed jacket.

He gave off a distinctly professorial vibe, his lips curled in a knowing smirk.

The owner, perhaps, or at least, that was my assumption.

“Oh, uh, hi. Sorry, I was just looking.” My cheeks flushed; I felt inexplicably like I had been caught doing something I shouldn’t. A few seconds later, I probably would have been.

“No need to apologize,” he chuckled warmly, stepping closer to me and the glass case. “It tends to have that effect. Very few people make it far enough back here to notice it, but usually people read the sign, and…do not touch it. You seem to have a mind of your own, though—a free thinker?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Is that your way of calling me stupid?”

His eyes lit up. “Perhaps. Curious would be the kinder word. This particular book has been here longer than I’ve owned the store, and as far as I know, only a handful of people have ever touched it.”

“What happened when they did? Is it very old and fragile?” I asked, intrigued.

His expression became mysteriously guarded, eyes sparkling. “Let’s just say no one who attempted ever stayed around long enough to tell me about it.”

“Well, that’s comforting.”

“Consider it a friendly warning from one curious soul to another. Some stories might be better left unread.” He turned as if to go then looked back over his shoulder one last time. “If you’d like to open it, I won’t stop you. Just make sure you leave it the way you found it.”

With a polite nod, he disappeared into the maze of shelves, leaving me alone again with the glowing book.

It was clearly a romance, or at least a frilly, lighthearted tale, but my curiosity only intensified.

I bit my lip for one second, then two, before I caved and rested my fingertips on the glass lid, surprised to feel it oddly warm beneath my touch.

I’d heard his warning but also his permission, and surely, one peek couldn’t hurt?

It was just a book, after all.

“Famous last words,” I muttered to myself before I carefully lifted the lid.

The air around me seemed to pulse gently, a subtle warmth brushing my skin.

Ignoring the irrational urge to step back, I slowly opened the heavy cover, smiling to myself when it gave way with ease.

The hardback was thick and solid beneath my fingers, a satisfying sound of papers rustling as I opened it wider, until—

A blinding burst of golden light exploded from the pages, stealing my breath and my senses.

A roaring whooshed through my ears, and suddenly, I was weightless, falling and tumbling, completely disoriented.

The world around me became brighter and brighter, robbing my sight completely for what felt like forever, until finally, gratefully, everything went dark.