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Find My Way Down to You - Softcover

Winters, Julian

 
9780593624456: Find My Way Down to You

Inhaltsangabe

You've Reached Sam meets Hadestown in this enchanting, intoxicating romance across the mortal world and the underworld.

Eighteen-year-old August is trying to navigate life after the sudden death of his boyfriend left him devastated, aimless, and feeling guilty. Years after the tragic accident, August mistakenly stumbles into a world beyond his own—the Underworld. Unlike his own gray existence, the underworld is a lavish extravagant place, full of mystery and a flurry of charismatic gods, all curious about August's arrival in their world. Realizing right away the opportunity in front of him, August goes searching for his lost love, guided by Cary, the smoldering, broody ferrier of souls. But the more time August spends down below, the more his intentions begin to blur. Is he visiting this realm to reunite with his soulmate? Or is he desperately, inexplicably, intoxicatingly drawn to Cary? With his own world in pieces and a dangerously seductive realm promising him a new existence at a heavy cost, August must choose: a life with grief or a love that might destroy him.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Julian Winters is the author of the award-winning young adult novels Running with Lions, Right Where I Left You, How to Be Remy Cameron, The Summer of Everything, As You Walk On By, and Prince of the Palisades, as well as his adult romance debut, I Think They Love You. A self-proclaimed comic book geek, Julian currently lives outside of Atlanta where he can be found swooning over rom-coms or watching the only two sports he can follow?volleyball and soccer.

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Hal’s corpse isn’t the first I’ve seen up close.
The memory always starts like this:
The sharp scent of antiseptics burns the inside of my nose. Thick, salty tears fill my throat. Underneath my fingertips, there’s no pulse. Only ice-cold skin. He lies motionless on the table.
Dead.
His body is spared the cuts I suffered. The scars that took months to fade. But a river of dried blood snakes from his temple to his collarbone.
Traumatic brain injury, the doctors whisper. Their voices are like thin breezes. Nearly silent compared to the ache thundering in me.
Helpless, I stare at him. Blue lips that once held contagious smiles. Sunlit tan skin now pale as milk. His eyes are shut, but I remember how green they were, like aloe. Under the LED panel lights, shards of glass glitter in his wavy brown hair.
He was smart. Funny. He stole attention from every room. He held me like nothing could rip us apart. He was everything.
He was . . . mine.
And in the flash of a traffic light changing. The press of my foot against the accelerator. In a blink, the suddenness of another car smashing into ours, London Sanders became a was instead of an is.
Outside the hospital room, my parents wait with his. They give me a moment, for a goodbye. But my splintered voice can only say this:
I’m so sorry.
Over and over.
Those words change nothing. They don’t silence the howlingly loud guilt inside me. They don’t bring him back.
I was sixteen when I stood over my first dead body.
I’m eighteen when a detective questions me about the second one.
“Mr. Clarke?”
The sterile hospital room fades. So does London’s body. My shaking hands clutch at empty air, desperate to hold on to him a little longer.
I’m back in the alley behind Viva Catalina’s. The stench of rancid trash clogs my throat again. Yellow tape ropes a barrier around the area. Red and blue lights from a SBPD patrol vehicle cast weird shapes along the brick wall in front of me.
I focus on the ground. Hal’s corpse is gone. Crime scene markers map out where he was. They tell the story of what the police think happened. No one truly knows, not even me.

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