Immergrün: Ein Lesbischer Liebesroman (Signiertes Taschenbuch)

Seiten : 194
ISBN : 9614622000556
Gewicht : 195g
Abmessungen : 127 x 20 x 203 mm

Die ehrgeizige Architektin Zoe McGuire wird von der erfolgreichen Projektentwicklerin Alex Galbraith persönlich ausgewählt, um ein historisches Theater in nachhaltigen gemeinschaftlichen Wohnraum zu verwandeln – ihre Chance auf den großen Durchbruch. Doch ihr Chef bei der renommierten Firma will ihr das Projekt entreißen, und Zoe muss für das kämpfen, was ihr zusteht.

Beeindruckt von Zoes Talent und Durchsetzungskraft lädt Alex sie nach Schweden ein, um ihre selbst aufgebaute Öko-Siedlung kennenzulernen. Was als geschäftliche Reise beginnt, die Zoe bei ihrer Entscheidung über Alex' Jobangebot helfen soll, nimmt eine unerwartete Wendung, als ein verheerender Schneesturm sie einschließt. Während draußen die Temperaturen sinken, lodert zwischen ihnen das Feuer auf und lässt die professionellen Grenzen schmelzen, die beide so sorgfältig gewahrt hatten.

Doch kaum haben Zoe und Alex ihrer unwiderstehlichen Anziehung nachgegeben, bricht die Katastrophe herein. Eine tödliche Lawine bedroht nicht nur ihre frisch entdeckte Beziehung, sondern ihr nacktes Überleben. Gefangen in der gnadenlosen Winterwildnis stehen sie vor einer Wahrheit, die erschreckender ist als jeder Sturm – dass sie sich unsterblich ineinander verliebt haben, ohne danach gesucht zu haben.

Wenn der Schnee endlich schmilzt, kehren sie in ihre getrennten Leben zurück – oder bauen sie etwas Beständiges auf dem Fundament auf, das sie ineinander gefunden haben?

IMMERGRÜN ist eine mitreißende Romance über unverhoffte Liebe unter extremen Bedingungen und den Mut, den es braucht, sein Leben für jemanden zu verändern, der das eigene Herz für immer verändert hat.

- Boss/Employee Romance
- Snowed in
- Forced Proximity
- Slow Burn
- Community
- Avalanche!
- Age Gap Romance

Chapter 1
2045
It had been a long time since Alex last took a bow at the Paramount Theater. It was on a Thursday, March 12, 2020. In the twenty-five years since the last curtain call, the building, once the heart of the city's cultural melting pot, was but a shadow of its former self. Where once heavy red velvet curtains hung, only a tarnished rail remained; the stage was rotten and brittle from years of decay.
The theater had been on the demolition list for years, but every attempt by the city to tear it down and replace it with something new was met with resistance. It had long been unusable, and no one seriously thought about restoring it to its former glory. Many, however, held on to it out of sentimentality. Thus, despite all efforts, the building remained empty for twenty-five years.
It no longer made much of an impression, and anyone under thirty would hardly have believed that it had once been one of the city's greatest treasures. A thick layer of dust covered every surface, dulling the interior to a uniform, dull gray. Where once a band had played soft jazz, now lay a heavy, empty silence.
In this silence, a muffled sneeze was heard, the first in years. It was followed by a brief pause, a sniffle, then another. And shortly after, three more in quick succession.
The bright light of a cell phone lamp swung through the Paramount auditorium, over to the entrance doors that led back into the hallway, where a young woman was trying in vain to suppress her sneezing fit. After a particularly loud sneeze that briefly took her breath away, it became quiet.
"I told you to wear a mask!" Alex called out.
"I didn't think it was that bad," Luna mumbled through the sleeve she held over her mouth. "Damn, I think I can taste it. I can taste the dust, Alex."
"Sad to see it like this," Alex agreed, letting her phone's light glide over the former orchestra pit. All that remained were the remnants of the grand piano under a dusty sheet. "You probably never saw a performance here, did you?"
"I was born about five years too late for that. And you?"
"I stood on that stage and took a bow when the curtain fell for the last time." Alex looked up at the stage and pointed. "I stood about... there."
"You were an actress?" Luna's tone betrayed the same surprise as her face, which made Alex laugh.
"I was a dancer. It was also my last performance, the last for me and the last for the theater. After that, I did something else." Alex sighed wistfully. Although she still had a dancer's figure, it had been a few years since she had last danced.
"Back then, it certainly looked a lot less creepy." Her gaze repeatedly darted into the dark corners.
Alex chuckled softly and nodded. "Indeed."
"Do you think we can send in the appraisal team?" The younger woman looked around nervously, scrutinizing the moth-eaten dust covers and chipped paint. She obviously didn't trust the structural integrity of the theater.
"Is that your way of asking if we can leave, Luna?" Alex asked with a small smile.
"No," the other said quickly. Too quickly, to be honest.
"We can't do much here anyway until we have an architect and get some light in," Alex admitted, running her hand over one of the columns next to the stage. Twenty-five years ago, it had been a rich scarlet, with raised gold ornaments. Now the paint was faded or chipped; it was only a pale shadow of what it once was, just like the rest of the theater. "I just wanted to see how bad it was..."
The two made their way back to the exit. Again and again, Alex swung her light over the traces that time had left, and Luna commented that she felt like the main character in a horror movie. Finally, they found their way back to the large entrance doors and stepped out into the sunshine.
"Oh, that's better." Luna lowered her hand from her mouth and took a deep breath of fresh air. "Oh, that feels good."
"We were only in there for a few minutes." Alex locked the heavy wooden door of the theater with the old bunch of keys she had been given a few weeks ago. A few passers-by gave them curious glances; no one had entered or left the Paramount for a long time.
"Still. Fresh air? Good. Dusty air? Bad."
Alex took off her light blazer, tucked it under her arm, and the two walked away from the theater. She had done exactly what she wanted: finally satisfied her curiosity about what was behind those doors after all this time. And as bad as it was inside, it was by no means as terrible as she had feared.
Of course, almost everything inside would have to be torn out. But the roof had not collapsed from water damage, and there was no half-collapsed staircase in the foyer – a start. The appraisal team would be able to give her precise information on the structural integrity later, but for now, it seemed to have been a worthwhile purchase.
"Why did it close anyway?" Luna asked, giving the theater one last look before they crossed the street. "I mean, because of Corona, of course. But why didn't they just open it again afterwards?"
Alex smiled and fished her car keys out of her pocket. Luna was a sweet girl and a good assistant, but sometimes she said things that made the age difference between them clear. When Alex was Luna's age, she had sat isolated in her apartment and only thanks to video calls with friends had not lost her mind. The world had looked very different then. Even if the world had moved on, it was no longer the world in which Alex had grown up.
"The same as with many shops here," Alex said, pointing to the neighborhood, formerly known as the arts district – now mostly hip open kitchens or sinfully expensive apartments. "It closed during the pandemic and never reopened. Back then, many thought everything would just go back to normal. Many probably expected it to reopen, but then there was a lack of money everywhere, and people had found other ways to entertain themselves."
She broke off and shrugged. "Well, almost twenty-five years later, and still nothing has happened."
"And what do we do now?" Luna asked.
"The appraisal team has to go in," Alex said, and as they entered the parking lot, she pressed the button on her car key. "You call them, and I'll find an architectural firm to start with the designs."
On the other side of the parking lot, Alex saw her car backing out of the parking space. Luna made a note on her phone to call the appraisal team about the theater's structural integrity. The two said goodbye and went their separate ways. Alex took one last look at the Paramount Theater on the drive home and smiled to herself as it disappeared from her sight.
Finally, after all these years, she had found a use for the building.


***
When Alex opened the apartment door, the lights in the hallway automatically came on, accompanied by the disembodied voice of her smart home assistant, Ava. "Good evening, Alex. I hope your day was pleasant. According to the protocol at your mailbox, two packages arrived while you were out. Would you like me to start your evening routine?"
Alex sighed softly, left her bag on the hall table, and strolled into the kitchen. As she walked through the rooms, the lights came on without command, silently following her path to the refrigerator. It was somehow depressing to come home and only be greeted by a computer-generated voice, always ready to serve, but without personality. A human name didn't make it any less sad.
"Alright, if you insist," she muttered, opened the refrigerator, and peered inside. Milk that needed to be discarded, an overpriced juice she had bought spontaneously and hadn't opened yet, and yesterday's leftovers. Not much choice there.
"I'm sorry, Alex. You sound a little down today. Is there anything I can do to lift your spirits?"
Alex sighed. "No, just start my evening routine, please!" she called, took out the leftovers, and smelled them hesitantly. They still smelled good, so she put the food in the microwave. As she set the time on the display, the melodic sounds of a blues guitar filled the living room.
It was Friday evening; for most, that meant slowing down and getting ready for the weekend. Strictly speaking, Alex could have done the same; no one would have held it against her. But she wasn't ready yet. Thoughts of the Paramount Theater and the next steps were still swirling in her head.
So she didn't put her feet up, didn't look for a wonderfully bad movie, and didn't switch off her brain for the next two and a half days. Instead, she took her food into the living room and worked through the documents of the local architectural firms that Luna had sent her.
Alex scrolled through endless profiles with impressive references, but nothing really caught her eye until she stumbled upon a name she recognized.
"Zoe McGuire," Alex read aloud, examining the resume more closely. She had seen the name somewhere recently. "Hey, Ava? Search for Zoe McGuire, architect."
"Searching for 'Zoe McGuire, architect'." Ava's calm voice echoed through the house as the search results lit up on Alex's screen.
Young architect receives Murray Prize for outstanding contributions to sustainable development.
Zoe McGuire receives the Jimmy Carter Award for the use of renewable energy in urban development.
Out with the old, in with the new: How this architect paves the way for a new generation.
Alex had seen some of these headlines before – that's why the name sounded so familiar. Zoe McGuire was one of the young architects everyone was talking about because of her sustainable designs. And judging by the awards, she was really talented.
A smile crept across Alex's face as she leaned back in her armchair. She had found the perfect woman for the job.