Nithya, a vivacious, intelligent and driven college senior
has always known what she has wanted: a successful career in medicine and the
love of her family. She's even come to terms with the idea of an arranged
marriage, a tradition her conservative Indian family has held up for thousands
of years.
When a night of partying puts her on a collision course with
danger, Nithya's entire life changes.
Enter James St. Clair, the smart, challenging and
heartbreakingly handsome American.
As Nithya and James fall in love, she questions the future
she and her parents have always planned. Now, Nithya has a choice to make:
become a doctor and a good Indian bride, or step away from her family and
centuries of culture to forge her own path.
The decision she comes to takes her on a journey that
transforms how she sees her future, her relationships with loved ones, and how
she learns to put herself back together when even her best-laid plans fall
apart
EXCERPT!!!**
“What was your reasoning? If the Indian thing is to be a crazy academic, why aren’t you at Yale or Harvard or something?” “They didn’t want me,” I tell him cheerfully. “Oh. I’m sorry. They’re idiots.” “Really. There’re no hard feelings. I’m perfectly fine being here with people like you.” “Are you insinuating that I’m a moron?” “No! I just meant–I’d rather be in a place where people... I just like you. People like you. I like being with people who are like you because you’re smart and fun.” I sound like a bumbling idiot. You deserve to be single. You really are a Nitwit. He watches, amused, while I fumble my way through an answer. I give up stuttering and sigh; my eyes dart around for a place to hide. His, on the other hand, sparkle, and his smile gets bigger and bigger until he finally bursts out laughing, a sound that I’m convinced I’ll never get tired of hearing. “You’re cute when you’re nervous. I was going to tell you I was kidding.” He chortles again. “Were you?” I meet his warm gaze. “Completely. But it’s sort of fun watching your squirm.” “You’ll pay for that someday,” I warn him. “I hope so.” He smirks. There it is again. That electric charge. It’s as if the air between us has solidified into a molten mass, white-hot and pulling us together like magnets. My heart pounds so hard, I’m afraid it’ll break the stone we are sitting on. His eyes stare into mine, and I am engulfed by their vibrant green sheen. James crosses his legs and straightens his back, shifting his posture. He’s closer to me now. I can see the shade of stubble on his chin and exactly where his jaw flexes. There’s a scar on his forehead near his eyebrow, and I wonder distractedly where he got it. “You can really see the stars out tonight.” He tilts his head. I turn around, taken aback by the change of subject. The shadows of the mountains in the distance are huge waves of dark blue on the horizon. The green grass in the fields behind the pavilion appears teal in the night. There are no lights there, while the other side of the arboretum is lit by campus streetlights. The stars are brilliant, glittering specks against a dark background. Suddenly, one jets across the sky, trailing faint white light behind
it. It travels so quickly, my eyes can hardly keep up. “Hey!” James and I cry out, pointing to the shooting star. The second it disappears into the universe, I close my eyes. “What’re you doing?” James whispers. I hold up a finger to make a wish, willing it to happen with all of my heart and soul. I wish this night would never end. “I had to make my wish,” I whisper back. I’m not sure why, but after the fleeting glimpse of the meteor, it feels appropriate. “What did you wish for?” He has shifted his weight again, his position mirroring mine perfectly. “I can’t tell or it won’t come true. Did you wish for anything?” He shakes his head, smiling. “It’s not too late. You still have time. Give it a shot.” He closes his eyes, and the vision of him with his eyes serenely closed, cross-legged on the stone floor inches away from me, is seared into my mind. He looks so peaceful, like a child. A wistful smile lingers on his lips–until his eyes flutter open, and his smile turns playful. “Are you going to tell me what you wished for?” I repeat his question. “It won’t come true,” he echoes my response. We are inches apart. Our faces tilt toward one another, our images reflecting in each other’s eyes. “I really want to kiss you right now,” he whispers. “I really want you to,” I reply, breathlessly. He moves in closer, taking his time. The world has stopped. There are no passing cars, no breezes blowing through the trees, no ties binding us to anyone but each other. When his lips finally touch mine, it is as if a fire bursts to roaring, glorious life inside me–it is flaming, reaching for any way to free itself from my body. Though I’ve never done this before, I have no worries. I am a lost soul, and he is my lifeline. “You taste like chocolate,” he whispers to me, grinning. “Is that a racial reference?” I ask him, smiling. He laughs softly, his forehead pressed against mine, his hand still grazing my cheek, fingers entwined in my hair. “I guess I got what I wished for.” “You wasted a wish. I would have kissed you anyway,” I tell him playfully.
“I didn’t want to take any chances,” he murmurs and kisses me again. I am in heaven, and there is nowhere I would rather be.
EXCERPT!!!**
“What was your reasoning? If the Indian thing is to be a crazy academic, why aren’t you at Yale or Harvard or something?” “They didn’t want me,” I tell him cheerfully. “Oh. I’m sorry. They’re idiots.” “Really. There’re no hard feelings. I’m perfectly fine being here with people like you.” “Are you insinuating that I’m a moron?” “No! I just meant–I’d rather be in a place where people... I just like you. People like you. I like being with people who are like you because you’re smart and fun.” I sound like a bumbling idiot. You deserve to be single. You really are a Nitwit. He watches, amused, while I fumble my way through an answer. I give up stuttering and sigh; my eyes dart around for a place to hide. His, on the other hand, sparkle, and his smile gets bigger and bigger until he finally bursts out laughing, a sound that I’m convinced I’ll never get tired of hearing. “You’re cute when you’re nervous. I was going to tell you I was kidding.” He chortles again. “Were you?” I meet his warm gaze. “Completely. But it’s sort of fun watching your squirm.” “You’ll pay for that someday,” I warn him. “I hope so.” He smirks. There it is again. That electric charge. It’s as if the air between us has solidified into a molten mass, white-hot and pulling us together like magnets. My heart pounds so hard, I’m afraid it’ll break the stone we are sitting on. His eyes stare into mine, and I am engulfed by their vibrant green sheen. James crosses his legs and straightens his back, shifting his posture. He’s closer to me now. I can see the shade of stubble on his chin and exactly where his jaw flexes. There’s a scar on his forehead near his eyebrow, and I wonder distractedly where he got it. “You can really see the stars out tonight.” He tilts his head. I turn around, taken aback by the change of subject. The shadows of the mountains in the distance are huge waves of dark blue on the horizon. The green grass in the fields behind the pavilion appears teal in the night. There are no lights there, while the other side of the arboretum is lit by campus streetlights. The stars are brilliant, glittering specks against a dark background. Suddenly, one jets across the sky, trailing faint white light behind
it. It travels so quickly, my eyes can hardly keep up. “Hey!” James and I cry out, pointing to the shooting star. The second it disappears into the universe, I close my eyes. “What’re you doing?” James whispers. I hold up a finger to make a wish, willing it to happen with all of my heart and soul. I wish this night would never end. “I had to make my wish,” I whisper back. I’m not sure why, but after the fleeting glimpse of the meteor, it feels appropriate. “What did you wish for?” He has shifted his weight again, his position mirroring mine perfectly. “I can’t tell or it won’t come true. Did you wish for anything?” He shakes his head, smiling. “It’s not too late. You still have time. Give it a shot.” He closes his eyes, and the vision of him with his eyes serenely closed, cross-legged on the stone floor inches away from me, is seared into my mind. He looks so peaceful, like a child. A wistful smile lingers on his lips–until his eyes flutter open, and his smile turns playful. “Are you going to tell me what you wished for?” I repeat his question. “It won’t come true,” he echoes my response. We are inches apart. Our faces tilt toward one another, our images reflecting in each other’s eyes. “I really want to kiss you right now,” he whispers. “I really want you to,” I reply, breathlessly. He moves in closer, taking his time. The world has stopped. There are no passing cars, no breezes blowing through the trees, no ties binding us to anyone but each other. When his lips finally touch mine, it is as if a fire bursts to roaring, glorious life inside me–it is flaming, reaching for any way to free itself from my body. Though I’ve never done this before, I have no worries. I am a lost soul, and he is my lifeline. “You taste like chocolate,” he whispers to me, grinning. “Is that a racial reference?” I ask him, smiling. He laughs softly, his forehead pressed against mine, his hand still grazing my cheek, fingers entwined in my hair. “I guess I got what I wished for.” “You wasted a wish. I would have kissed you anyway,” I tell him playfully.
“I didn’t want to take any chances,” he murmurs and kisses me again. I am in heaven, and there is nowhere I would rather be.
Annika Sharman Bio:
Annika Sharma was born in New Delhi and brought up in the
United States, where she moved with her parents as a baby. A proud alum, she
graduated from Penn State University with dual degrees in Biobehavioral Health
and Neuro-Psychology, and minors in Biology and Human Development and Family
Studies. She received her Master's degree in Early Childhood Special Education
before pursuing her dreams of becoming a writer, landing her agent Stacey
Donaghy of Donaghy Literary Group while daylighting as a preschool teacher. The
Rearranged Life, her first novel, was written in the month before graduate
school.
Annika, a Gryffindor and Scorpio, spends much of her time
dreaming of adventure, working on her next book, going on Starbucks runs with
family and friends, shopping online and watching superhero movies.
The Rearranged Life, will be hitting shelves on May 15th,
2015, published by Curiosity Quills Press.
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