{"product_id":"one-year-ago-in-spain-isbn-9780593499276","title":"One Year Ago in Spain","description":"\u003cb\u003e\u003cb\u003e“An utterly romantic story about second chances and the power of love.”—#1 \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author Ali Hazelwood\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA woman must woo her lover’s soul back into his body to wake him from a coma—or risk losing him forever—in this moving novel from the author of \u003ci\u003eThe Hundred Loves of Juliet\u003c\/i\u003e.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eClaire Walker has always had her life in perfect order, including her high-powered job at one of Manhattan’s top corporate law firms. Yet the one thing she cannot seem to find is a perfect love to complete it, until fate pushes Matías de León into her path. Matías is a Spanish artist who is everything that Claire is not: free-spirited and creative, chaos to her order. She falls for him, hard—and he for her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e A year later, however, Claire begins to question everything about their relationship. How can they possibly work long-term when they’re so different? Might it be best to end it before they are both in too deep?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Then tragedy strikes while Matías is visiting family, leaving him gravely wounded in a Madrid hospital. And when Claire drops everything to race to his side, she finds she is the only one who can see and talk to Matías’s soul, detached from his comatose body. But that soul has no memories of his year in New York, of her, or of their relationship. Claire soon realizes that in order to lure Matías back to his body, she will have to convince him to fall in love with her all over again. But can lightning strike twice? Can the same magic that brought them together once do so again?“Evelyn Skye has written an utterly romantic, infinitely lovely story about second chances, opposites complementing each other, and the power of love. Her writing is beautiful, uplifting, and full of heart—every romance reader will adore this novel!”\u003cb\u003e—#1 \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author Ali Hazelwood\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A sumptuous love story full of what-ifs and second chances.”\u003cb\u003e—Julie Soto, \u003ci\u003eUSA Today \u003c\/i\u003ebestselling author of \u003ci\u003eForget Me Not\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Effervescent and romantic, a novel that gives hope and credence to the concept of ‘ever after.’”\u003cb\u003e—Tif Marcelo, \u003ci\u003eUSA Today\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eWhen Jasmine Blooms\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Sparkling with wit and humor, \u003ci\u003eOne Year Ago in Spain\u003c\/i\u003e is the perfect combination of charm and depth. Skye draws you in and keeps you reading until the very last word.”\u003cb\u003e—Addie Woolridge, author of \u003ci\u003eThe Checklist\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003ci\u003eOne Year Ago in Spain\u003c\/i\u003e is a feast for the hopeless romantic. Evelyn Skye’s beautiful storytelling reaches for your heart and captures your soul. Sweeping, smart, and utterly magical.”\u003cb\u003e—Dana Elmendorf, author of \u003ci\u003eIn the Hour of Crows\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003eEvelyn Skye \u003c\/b\u003eis the \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eThe Hundred Loves of Juliet\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eOne Year Ago in Spain\u003c\/i\u003e, and many other books. A graduate of Stanford University and Harvard Law School, Skye lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her husband and daughter.\u003cb\u003eClaire\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e They kissed like they were talking about the weather. And not the tornados of the Midwest or the searing wildfires of California. Just a tepid peck on the lips, as exciting as a partially cloudy evening.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e All around them, Manhattan heaved like an impatient dragon, its sidewalks shimmering like scales sweaty with humidity. Streetlamps blazed, and the horns of taxis wailed. Everything in the city was alive—­feverish, irrepressible.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Everything except Claire and her date.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e It was the third time she and Glenn had been out together, and now they stood outside the perfectly acceptable restaurant where they had both eaten perfectly acceptable chicken with a sautéed vegetable medley. The conversation had been perfectly acceptable, too—­not bad but not great. Just . . . fine.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Glenn smiled at her. He was tall enough that she couldn’t see the balding patch on the crown of his head, but she knew it was there. He had nice teeth—­he was a dentist, so he’d better have—­and he seemed to wear a uniform of standard-­issue polo shirts in tame shades of blue, paired with tan chinos.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e They were supposed to be heading to the opening of a new exhibit by a Spanish artist. Claire’s best friend—­one of the lawyers she worked with—­was married to the gallery owner, and he was throwing a swanky party with cocktails and a live band tonight.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Should I get us a ride?” Claire asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Glenn kept smiling in that mild way of his.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Um . . .” She looked around them to see if she’d missed a cue about what was going on, but no dice.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He took her hand. “I was wondering,” Glenn said, shouting a little to be heard over the street noise. “Would you like to be exclusive?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Claire blinked at him. “Exclusive?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “You know, not seeing anyone else?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She frowned, but just a tiny one—­the kind that only the person frowning really knows is happening while the rest of the world goes on blissfully unaware. “Oh, I know what exclusive means, but . . . why?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Glenn let out a short laugh. “Because I thought it might be nice if we didn’t kiss anyone else.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She didn’t think he \u003ci\u003ewas\u003c\/i\u003e kissing anyone else. And Claire certainly wasn’t seeing other men. She was a corporate attorney at one of Manhattan’s top international firms, on the cusp of partnership, which meant nearly all her waking hours were spent at the office. It had taken her and Glenn weeks to find a compatible evening in their schedules for this third date.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Also,” Glenn was saying, “because we’d be good together. We’re both smart and we have our lives figured out—­which, to be frank, even though we’re both thirty-­one, is no longer a given for our generation. We’re both practical and clearheaded. It’s the foundation for long-­lasting success.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Claire sighed. She’d grown up on epic love stories and movies, like the \u003ci\u003eOutlander\u003c\/i\u003e books and \u003ci\u003eTitanic\u003c\/i\u003e. So Claire wanted fire and passion, a man who stayed with her not because it was sensible, but because he couldn’t imagine a life without her. And Glenn’s speech was nowhere near what she’d once dreamed of as a romantic declaration.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e But she wasn’t getting any younger, and he \u003ci\u003ewas\u003c\/i\u003e the kind of man you wouldn’t be embarrassed to bring home to the ­family— ­if Claire’s parents were still alive or she had any siblings, which she didn’t.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Yet if she and Glenn were this bland at the start, what kind of future would this relationship hold? Besides a high probability  of predictable stability?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e A taxi pulled up at the curb near them, vomiting out passengers onto the sidewalk. Immediately, two different couples—­red-­faced from the heat and humidity—­lunged toward the open door, fighting to claim the car. Getting a ride on a Saturday night in Manhattan was no small feat.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Glenn stepped away but didn’t do anything to help shield Claire from the melee. Not that she needed a man to save her, but she wouldn’t have minded a little chivalry.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “So, what do you say?” Glenn asked once one of the couples had victoriously crammed themselves into the cab and left the other pair growling and punching at their phones, trying to find an available ride.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Say to what?” Claire asked, her mind still on the minidrama over the taxi.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Being exclusive. You and me, together.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “I think . . . Well, I like you, Glenn.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He grinned at her with his very straight teeth.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “But the thing is . . .” Claire took a deep breath. “Don’t you think we deserve more? I mean that in the nicest way possible. Maybe you’re right and we would be a good team, but don’t you deserve something more than just a well-­functioning team member by your side? Don’t you deserve someone where, when she’s gone, you still think about her all the time? Someone you want to text whenever you have a break in your schedule? And after a long day, you want nothing more than to curl up next to her and hear all about \u003ci\u003eher\u003c\/i\u003e day? Because, if we’re being honest, I doubt you feel that way about me. Right? And I . . . I respect you, Glenn, but I don’t feel that spark with you, either.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Glenn crossed his arms across his polo shirt, which was now sweat-­soaked at the pits. He closed his eyes briefly—­had she gone too far? But he’d said he appreciated Claire’s clearheadedness, right? Like the attorney she was, she’d laid out a well-­thought-­out argument for their respective happiness. It just didn’t involve being together.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e When he opened his eyes, he nodded calmly, as if he’d just considered a patient’s description of a toothache. “What you described is, indeed, the fantasy. But that’s all it is—­a fantasy. And, Claire, come on, you care more about practicality than passion. Look at your life. You’re a lawyer. And you chose to go out with \u003ci\u003eme,\u003c\/i\u003e a dentist. We are people of responsibility. A little boring, a little uninspired, perhaps, but steady. Fantasies are for dreamers, not for dentists and lawyers like us.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e For the second time in just minutes, Claire found herself blinking at him. If Glenn had gotten angry or stomped off or something else dramatic, she could have taken it. But instead, he had returned her careful line of reasoning with a rational argument of his own—­one that walloped her in the stomach far harder than if he’d told her to f*** off.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Claire?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She shook herself out of her thoughts.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “No,” she said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “I’m sorry. What?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “No,” Claire said, looking him in the eye. “You’re really nice, Glenn. And maybe you’re right, but I’m not ready to give up yet. I still want—­”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “The impossible?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She bit her lip, then nodded. “Yeah.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Glenn laughed without humor, but he was too placid a person to be angry. “All right, then. Best of luck to you, Claire. I hope you find the love of your life.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “You, too, Glenn.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He nodded once, then headed off toward the subway station.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Claire allowed herself one more long exhale. And then she turned in the other direction and began to walk toward the gallery where her friend Yolanda was waiting for her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Claire trudged through Greenwich Village, mostly oblivious to the people and storefronts as what Glenn had said about her echoed in her head.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eBoring.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eUninspired.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eYou care more about practicality than passion.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Was it true?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Claire’s life \u003ci\u003ewas\u003c\/i\u003e remarkably predictable. She woke every morning at 5:30 a.m., went for a run through Central Park, came home and showered, then made the same oatmeal with raisins, walnuts, and cinnamon for breakfast. She left her apartment at 7:25 to catch the train, which got her through the front doors of the law firm at 7:47—­enough time to grab a coffee from the break room and read through any emails that had come in overnight before hopping on client calls starting at 8:30. The only thing Claire couldn’t predict was when each workday would end, because sometimes there were calls with clients on the West Coast or even in Asia.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eBut my reliability is why my clients love me,\u003c\/i\u003e Claire thought, trying to reassure herself.New York Times bestselling author","brand":"Del Rey","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46304786677989,"sku":"NP9780593499276","price":18.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780593499276.jpg?v=1767734210","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/one-year-ago-in-spain-isbn-9780593499276","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}