At times, life throws its worst at you, forcing you to navigate existence in its aftermath.
To shield her heart, Clementine devises a strategy: keep busy, toil diligently, seek out a decent love interest, and whimsically, endeavor to chase the moon. The latter may seem fanciful and metaphorical, but her aunt always insisted on nurturing at least one grand aspiration to fuel the journey forward. For the past year, this plan has unfolded seamlessly. Mostly. The aspect involving love proves challenging; she hesitates to form deep connections, unsure if her heart can withstand it.
Then, a peculiar man appears in the kitchen of her late aunt’s apartment. With gentle eyes, a Southern accent, and a penchant for lemon pies, he embodies the type of man Clementine would have once fallen for head over heels. And she may again.
Except, he belongs to the past. Specifically, seven years ago. Meanwhile, she resides firmly in his future.
Her aunt often described the apartment as a ripple in time, where moments melded together like watercolors. Clementine understands that surrendering to love would spell disaster.
For love transcends the constraints of time, but it hinges on timing.
In this astute and witty novel from the New York Times bestselling author of The Dead Romantics, an industrious book publicist with a meticulously mapped-out future encounters a hiccup when she falls for her temporary roommate, only to realize he inhabits a world seven years in the past.
