Long Way Down

Informationen zum Autor Krista and Becca Ritchie Klappentext "The TikTok sensation Addicted series continues with Long Way Down, now in a print edition with special bonus material! Fall in love with Daisy and Ryke in this edgy new adult romance set in a world of lust, fame, swoonworthy men, and friendships that run deeper than blood in this special edition with bonus materials-in print only! With a seven-year age difference, Ryke Meadows and Daisy Calloway have faced an uphill battle in the eyes of the world and their families. Known as the most adventurous, fast-paced couple, their next step has always been elusive to the rabid media. Behind the scenes, heartbreaking troubles continue to test Ryke and Daisy's resilience and shape their future together. They promise: To never slow down. To never compromise who they are. To never abandon their love for each other. But preserving their happiness also means taking more risks. As a professional free-solo climber, Ryke is no stranger to danger, but his next step with Daisy wagers more than just his health. With their lives on the line, Ryke and Daisy head towards the vast, wild unknown"-- Leseprobe One Ryke Meadows I've scaled mountains with my bare hands, no harness or rope. I've sped down freeways at over a hundred miles per hour. I once dove off a forty-foot cliff, swam with sharks, jumped out of a fucking plane, whitewater rafted class five rapids, ran an ultramarathon in a remote Chilean desert, and some months ago, I underwent transplant surgery. All of those moments combined are easy compared to what's happening now. I rock on the balls of my feet-for fuck's sake, I can't remember the last time I rocked on my feet. I stop and run my hand through my hair for the millionth time. I scan the backyard as the sun falls behind spruce trees. The pool is empty, only water wings floating on the surface. Water wings-I'm used to seeing these things everywhere. It happens when I'm living with my brother, his wife, and their one-year-old baby. Though lately, seeing high chairs, diapers, stuffed toys, and rattles sends my mind into a fucking tailspin. I exhale and wipe my forehead with the end of my gray T-shirt, restraining the urge to jump in the pool and cool down from the August heat. The glass door opens, and I look over my shoulder. My little brother and Connor stroll through with these really fucking annoying smiles. My blood pumps harder in my veins. "Shut the fuck up," I tell them. Connor's grin pulls wider, stretched so far that I think it should tear his face apart. It doesn't. He's still good-looking. Fuck him. And he says, "Shutting up would require talking." "You are now." I have my hands on my head. I'm really close to pacing, and I don't pace either. Rose paces. Loren paces. Lily sometimes even fucking paces. I don't pace . . . do I? I'm losing my mind. Lo places a hand on Connor's shoulder, cutting in before he responds, "Let's not make this into a lecture. He already looks like shit." Fucking A. "Should I shave?" I ask, running a hand down my jaw. I usually trim more, especially in the summer, but I've kept the scruffy, I've been outdoors look since March. "You could start with that," Connor says, his shit-eating grin blinding me. He stuffs his fists into his khaki shorts. "The hair needs some work too." His blue eyes flit to my unkempt brown hair, the thick strands just doing their natural fucking thing. When I don't argue with Connor but instead rake another hand through my hair-attempting to flatten the strands-his composure shifts. He arches a brow. "You look like yourself. Just leave it alone." "So you're saying I always look like shit?" I flatten the longer pieces over my forehead. I don't even know what the fuck I'm doing. "Yes," he says easily. "And stop touching it." Lo scrunches his face at the...

Auteur
​​Krista and Becca Ritchie are New York Times and USA Today bestselling authors and identical twins—one a science nerd, the other a comic book geek—but with their shared passion for writing, they combined their mental powers as kids and have never stopped telling stories. They love superheroes, flawed characters, and soul mate love.

Texte du rabat

The TikTok sensation Addicted Series continues with Long Way Down, now in a print edition with special bonus material!

With a seven-year age difference, Ryke Meadows and Daisy Calloway have faced an uphill battle in the eyes of the world and their families. Known as the most adventurous, fast-paced couple, their next step has always been elusive to the rabid media.
 
Behind the scenes, heartbreaking troubles continue to test Ryke and Daisy’s resilience and shape their future together.
 
They promise:
To never slow down.
To never compromise who they are.
To never abandon their love for each other.
 
But preserving their happiness also means taking more risks. As a professional free-solo climber, Ryke is no stranger to danger, but his next step with Daisy wagers more than just his health. With their lives on the line, Ryke and Daisy head towards the vast, wild unknown.

Échantillon de lecture
One

Ryke Meadows

I've scaled mountains with my bare hands, no harness or rope. I've sped down freeways at over a hundred miles per hour. I once dove off a forty-foot cliff, swam with sharks, jumped out of a fucking plane, whitewater rafted class five rapids, ran an ultramarathon in a remote Chilean desert, and some months ago, I underwent transplant surgery.

All of those moments combined are easy compared to what's happening now. I rock on the balls of my feet-for fuck's sake, I can't remember the last time I rocked on my feet.

I stop and run my hand through my hair for the millionth time. I scan the backyard as the sun falls behind spruce trees. The pool is empty, only water wings floating on the surface. Water wings-I'm used to seeing these things everywhere.

It happens when I'm living with my brother, his wife, and their one-year-old baby. Though lately, seeing high chairs, diapers, stuffed toys, and rattles sends my mind into a fucking tailspin. I exhale and wipe my forehead with the end of my gray T-shirt, restraining the urge to jump in the pool and cool down from the August heat.

The glass door opens, and I look over my shoulder. My little brother and Connor stroll through with these really fucking annoying smiles. My blood pumps harder in my veins.

"Shut the fuck up," I tell them.

Connor's grin pulls wider, stretched so far that I think it should tear his face apart. It doesn't. He's still good-looking. Fuck him. And he says, "Shutting up would require talking."

"You are now." I have my hands on my head. I'm really close to pacing, and I don't pace either. Rose paces. Loren paces. Lily sometimes even fucking paces.

I don't pace . . . do I?

I'm losing my mind.

Lo places a hand on Connor's shoulder, cutting in before he responds, "Let's not make this into a lecture. He already looks like shit."

Fucking A.

"Should I shave?" I ask, running a hand down my jaw. I usually trim more, especially in the summer, but I've kept the scruffy, I've been outdoors look since March.

"You could start with that," Connor says, his shit-eating grin blinding me. He stuffs his fists into his khaki shorts. "The hair needs some work too." His blue eyes flit to my unkempt brown hair, the thick strands just doing their natural fucking thing.

When I don't argue with Connor but instead rake another hand through my hair-attempting to flatten the strands-his composure shifts.

He arches a brow. "You look like yourself. Just leave it alone."

"So you're saying I always look like shi…