Hearts Fire (Heartstruck #1)

prologue

NOIA

“I need another month.” Balancing my coffee in one hand, I press my phone against my ear with the other as I deftly dodge a puddle in the middle of the sidewalk.

Portland in October shouldn’t be this hot, but I’m already starting to sweat through the pits of my blouse. “It’s not like I’m asking for an effing kidney, Amanda.”

“We can’t push the deadline again, Noia. Your readers have been waiting long enough.”

“You know I have a wedding coming up. I know it’s last minute, but…” I sidestep a tourist who has stopped right in the middle of the sidewalk to take a photo of a massive mural painted on the side of the building across the street.

Fuck’s sake.

“Noia, we’ve already pushed this deadline twice.” My agent’s voice has that clipped, I’m-trying-not-to-lose-my-shit tone that I’ve become all too familiar with over the past few years. “Besides, the release date is set in stone. The publisher has already—”

Something slams into my back and my coffee goes flying. My phone slips out of my hand, clattering to the sidewalk as my ankles wobble in a pair of ridiculous four-inch heels Sasha convinced me would “make a statement” at today’s meeting.

I pinwheel my arms, but it’s no use. Unable to catch myself, I fall backward, my head slamming against the concrete.

Gravity is such a bitch.