They say Nantucket means “the Faraway Land” in the language of the Wampanoag people. It’s 30 miles out at sea from Cape Cod, a tiny curve of land with over a hundred miles of coastline. It feels like the whole island is wrapped in beaches, all windswept dunes and white-crested waves and rambling roses. It’s a beautiful place, but I’m not sure I belong here.
My father does. He’s a historian, writing a book about nautical cartography, and so he lives half in the past, unbothered by the countless wealth and privilege belonging to the other people who come here for the summer. He spends his days on a sailboat recreating old maritime techniques. He’s been coming to Nantucket for years to research his latest book, and this time — against my wishes — he’s brought me.
I’m Jordan Edelman, seventeen years old, and I belong in cities and thrifted moto jackets and combat boots. I feel like I’ve been plucked out of my normal life and dropped in a land of pastels and seersucker, Alice down the rabbit hole, Dorothy in Technicolor Oz. I don’t know what to do here, in this town of blooming hyacinths and elegant grey houses. My dad doesn’t have space for me to stay with him in his tiny rented room, so I’m being put up at the house of his acquaintances – a house named Golden Doors.
Have you ever been to a house with a name before?
I hadn’t. I hadn’t even known houses could have names. But oh, this house – perched high on an island bluff, it overlooks sprawling gardens and cliffs that fall to the shore and raging sea. Like all the houses on Nantucket, it’s covered in cedar tiles that have been weathered to a calming grey, with plenty of windows lined with white trim. There’s a roofwalk where you can put a telescope to gaze up at the stars, and I want to, because this summer I want to see the Arborids meteor shower and the return of Gibson’s Comet, which hasn’t been seen in decades.
Even if I don’t feel like I belong on Nantucket, it might be impossible not to belong in Golden Doors, a place of such warmth and joy it’s impossible not to love it. The family is ruled by an iron-fisted matriarch, and a dozen cousins are always spilling out of doorways, amusement in their eyes, their matching dark brown curls enhanced by the salt air. They are a family that cooks and eats and laughs together, that devours grilled peaches and mint lemonade and cherry cobbler outside on their green lawn, that supports each other unconditionally. There’s Ethan, a boy my age – my father’s assistant – who goes with me every morning down to the private beach. I might resent him for how easy his life is, for how he has my father’s attention, but he’s charming and confident and I wonder if I might belong with him, too.
How much can happen in one summer on a faraway island, under falling stars and moonless nights? Perhaps everything.
SUMMER NIGHTS AND METEORITES by Hannah Reynolds
From the two-time Sydney Taylor Honor author comes another sweet Nantucket-set summer romance, perfect for fans of Rachel Lynn Solomon and K.L. Walther.
Jordan Edelman’s messy dating days are over. After a few too many broken hearts, and a father who worries a bit too much, she’s sworn off boys—at least for the summer. And since she’ll be tagging along on her father’s research trip to Nantucket, she doesn’t think it’ll be too hard to stick to her resolution.
But hooking up with the cute boy on the ferry doesn’t count, right? At least, not until that cute boy turns out to be Ethan Barbanel. As in, her father’s longtime research assistant Ethan Barbanel, the boy Jordan has hated from afar for years. And to make matters worse, Jordan might actually be falling for him.
As if that didn’t complicate her life enough, Jordan’s new summer job with a local astronomer turns up a centuries-old mystery surrounding Gibson’s Comet—and as she dives into her research, what she learns just might put her growing relationship with Ethan in jeopardy.
Young Adult | Romance [Penguin, On Sale: April 30, 2024, Hardcover / e-Book, ISBN: 9780593617328 / eISBN: 9780593696873]
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About Hannah Reynolds
Hannah Reynolds grew up outside of Boston, where she spent most of her childhood and teenage years recommending books to friends, working at a bookstore, and making chocolate desserts. She received her BA in Creative Writing and Archaeology from Ithaca College, which meant she never needed to stop telling romantic stories or playing in the dirt. After living in San Francisco, New York, and Paris, she came back to Massachusetts and now lives in Cambridge.
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