The Faraway Inn

After a devastating heartbreak, a teen girl decides to spend her summer helping her eccentric great aunt manage her quaint Vermont inn--but this fixer-upper is hiding a magical secret--in this cozy and irresistable new fantasy from the <New York Times <bestselling author of <The Spellshop.<

Sixteen-year-old Calisa is desperate for a change of scenery after her lying ex ruins her perfect Brooklyn summer. When her parents suggest she head to rural Vermont to help her great-aunt run her cozy bed and breakfast for a few months, she jumps at the chance.

But when Calisa arrives at the B&amp;B, she''s shocked to find a rundown inn with only a handful of guests. And to make matters worse, upon meeting with her great-aunt it quickly becomes clear that Calisa was <not <invited. Auntie Zee is determined to keep anyone from messing with her beloved inn&hellip;even if it is clear she needs the help.

To earn her keep, Calisa sets to work fixing up the inn, enlisting extra help from the groundskeeper''s (handsome) son. But the longer she stays, the more it becomes evident that there is something <strange <about the B&amp;B&mdash;and its residents. Something almost&hellip;<otherworldly.<

The inn is keeping a magical secret&mdash;but to protect the place she''s come to love, Calisa must unravel the truth of it, and her aunt, before it''s too late

Autorentext
Sarah Beth Durst is the New York Times bestselling author of over twenty-five books for adults, teens, and kids, including cozy fantasy The Spellshop. She's been awarded an American Library Association Alex Award, as well as a Mythopoeic Fantasy Award. Several of her books have been optioned for film/television, including Drink Slay Love, which was made into a TV movie and was a question on Jeopardy! She lives in Stony Brook, New York, with her husband, her children, and her ill-mannered cat.

Klappentext

*#1 NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • #1 NATIONAL BESTSELLER • A teen girl decides to spend her summer helping her eccentric great aunt manage her quaint Vermont inn—only to discover that the fixer-upper is hiding a magical secret—*in this cozy and irresistible new young adult fantasy from the New York Times bestselling author of *The Spellshop.
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This stunning first edition of The Faraway Inn features gorgeous designed edges!

“Frosted with whimsy and sprinkled with joy, The Faraway Inn is a testament to why Sarah Beth Durst is the queen of cozy fantasy!”—Tricia Levenseller, #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Darkness Within Us
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When sixteen-year-old Calisa arrives at her great-aunt’s B&B in rural Vermont for the summer, she’s shocked to find a rundown inn rather than the cozy bed-and-breakfast she was expecting. Grumpy and eccentric, Auntie Zee is determined to keep anyone from messing with her beloved inn . . . even though she clearly needs the help.

To convince her great-aunt to keep her around, Calisa sets to work fixing up the inn, enlisting extra help from the groundskeeper’s (handsome) son. But the longer she stays, the surer she is that there’s something strange about the B&B—and its guests. Something almost . . . otherworldly.

The inn is keeping a magical secret—but to protect the place she’s come to love, Calisa must unravel the truth before it’s too late.

Leseprobe
Chapter One

There were a lot of trees.

Calisa stood by the mailbox with her backpack and her suitcase and told herself very firmly that this was exactly what she needed.

Ahead of her was a forest, hemming in a one-­lane road. Pine trees clustered together, the expanse of evergreens only broken by the occasional white-­barked tree that stood out like a candle against the dark green. Overhead, the sky was a matte white, clouds blotting out the sun, which matched her mood—­cloudy with a chance of rain.

“This is going to be an amazing summer,” she said, as if saying the words out loud would act as some kind of spell to make them come true.

She just hadn’t pictured what it would feel like to actually be here, by herself, in the middle of a truly excessive number of trees, away from everyone she knew and everything familiar. She’d been too focused on not being there.

A few weeks ago, she’d never have considered coming to Vermont by herself for two entire months, but after her world fell apart, she’d pounced on the invitation. She’d wanted to spend her summer anywhere but Brooklyn—­anywhere but where Ethan, the boy who’d yanked her heart out of her chest and then stomped on it with the enthusiasm of a four-­year-­old in tap shoes, was going to be. It was essential self-­care.

In retrospect, Calisa supposed she should have had the Uber driver take her all the way to her great-­aunt’s doorstep instead of just the mailbox, but after the hours on the train and then in the car, she’d wanted to walk.

Also, the driver wouldn’t stop talking about fly-­fishing. So, here she was.

It will be fine. She could tell from the clouds it wasn’t going to rain until later. And if it did, she’d packed an umbrella, though she wasn’t sure exactly where.

Everything is going to be fine.

Shouldering her backpack, Calisa hauled her suitcase down the road. On either side, the trees loomed over her. It smelled like pine and wet earth and not at all like the mix of hot gyro meat, bus fumes, coffee, and overripe trash that she associated with the street outside her family’s apartment in Park Slope. Above, birds cawed to one another with sharp, biting cries that made her feel like an intruder. Listening, she thought she heard one softer trill, a cascading chirp that was more friendly. Squirrels leaped from branch to branch, causing the forest to rustle. She wondered if Vermont had wolves. Or bears. Probably not. Or maybe yes? This wasn’t the city or even suburbia. Bears weren’t impossible. On the plus side, being attacked by a bear would make a unique party story. Or an excellent college application essay. She hadn’t started writing hers yet. On the minus side, it would not be great to be mauled.

Close beside her, the trees rustled again, and Calisa jumped. She spotted a squirrel racing up the trunk of a pine tree. Just a squirrel. Not a bear. Only my overactive imagination.

In Google Maps, it hadn’t looked that far from the main road to the bed-­and-­breakfast. She pulled out her phone. No signal. She shoved it back into her pocket and kept walking. Ahead, the sky was darkening as gray clouds seeped into the white.

The road twisted, and in front of her, on the left side, was a wooden sign, half devoured by ivy, with letters gouged into it that read:

THE FARAWAY INN

She exhaled and smiled.

“See,” she said to the trees. “Almost there.” She’d thought it was a melodramatic name—Vermont wasn’t that far from Brooklyn—­but now that she was here in a random, possibly bear—infested forest, she decided it fit. She felt extremely far away from everything, which was exactly what she wanted.

Cheered, Calisa walked faster—­and it began to rain.

At first it was just a few drops, one on her cheek, one on her head, and a few spattering on the road around her, and then it increased to a drizzle. She shivered as she walked, wishing she had worn something warmer than her favorite Brooklyn Beans T-shirt (teal with a picture of a coffee cup and the words “Brew can do it!”) and a pair of jean shorts. Mom-­Kate had insisted she pack a jacket, even though it was summer, but it was shoved deep somewhere, probably with the umbrella…