"Wow. I've been reading Samantha Young for years and she has actually managed to top herself with A Cosmic Kind of Love."—Tessa Bailey, New York Times bestselling author of It Happened One Summer
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“With a premise that shines like the brightest constellation, Samantha Young delivers a refreshing and delicious rom-com about star crossed lovers event planner Hallie Goodman and NASA astronaut Christopher Ortiz. Sizzling chemistry, a tangible connection, and complex characters I rooted for from the get go, A Cosmic Kind of Love* did in fact launch my heart into space and left me on Earth, starry eyed and hoping for my own Captain Chris Ortiz.”—Elena Armas, New York Times bestselling author of The Spanish Love Deception**
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"ACosmic Kind Of Love will fly you to the moon and leave you stargazing. This clever romantic comedy about two souls brought together by the stars is everything you need in your life, complete with swoons, smiles, and steam enough to power a rocket. ACosmic Kind Of Love* doesn't just get five stars--it gets the whole galaxy."—Staci Hart, author of Wasted Words**

Praise for New York Times bestselling author Samantha Young and her novels

"Utterly delicious and addictive."—New York Times bestselling author Kristen Callihan

"Young pens a wonderful romance with lovable, multi-faceted characters who want what everyone wants -- someone to love them, no matter what."—RT Book Reviews

"Full of tenderness, fire, sexiness and intrigue, Every Little Thing is everything I hope to find in a romance. I loved this book, love this series and am desperately hoping for more installments sooner than later!"—Vilma's Book Blog

"This series is one I'd recommend to all romance lovers. Samantha Young always delivers a great love story."—Reading in Pajamas

"Ms. Young delivers a character-driven storyline that is gripping from the get-go, injecting a beloved enemies-to-lovers trope with intense angst and eroticism"—Natasha is a Book Junkie

"A really sexy book...Highly recommend this one."—USAToday.com

"Humor, heartbreak, drama, and passion."—The Reading Cafe

"Young writes stories that stay with you long after you flip that last page."—Under the Covers

"Charismatic characters, witty dialogue, blazing-hot sex scenes, and real-life issues make this book an easy one to devour."—Fresh Fiction

Autorentext

Samantha Young

Klappentext

**One of Amazon's Best Romances of October!

Space is the last thing an event planner and an astronaut need in this charming new romantic comedy from New York Times bestselling author Samantha Young.**

When event planner Hallie Goodman receives party-inspiration material from the bride of her latest wedding project, the last thing she expects to find is a collection of digital videos from Darcy’s ex-boyfriend. Hallie knows it’s wrong to keep watching these personal videos, but this guy is cute, funny, and an astronaut on the International Space Station to boot. She’s only human. And it’s not long until she starts sending e-mails and video diaries to his discontinued NASA address. Since they’re bouncing back, there’s no way anyone will ever be able to see them...right?
 
Christopher Ortiz is readjusting to life on earth and being constantly in the shadow of his deceased older brother. When a friend from NASA’s IT department forwards him the e-mails and video messages Hallie has sent, he can’t help but notice how much her sense of humor and pink hair make his heart race.
 
Separated by screens, Hallie and Chris are falling in love with each other, one transmission at a time. But can they make their star-crossed romance work when they each learn the other’s baggage?

Leseprobe
One

Hallie

Present Day

So what stupid thing happened to you today?"

I stumbled on one of the concrete steps that led up to my apartment as my boyfriend's question echoed off the stairwell walls from the loudspeaker on my phone.

A flush of irritation made itself known in my cheeks even though George's tone was teasing. "Nothing," I replied defensively as I continued climbing, trying not to sound out of breath.

I struggled to hold my phone and my oversized purse with one hand while I opened the door with the other.

"Come on." George chuckled. "Something had to have happened. It's been almost a week since the last one, so that's, like, a record."

"The sandwich doesn't count." I huffed, dumping my bag onto my small dining table, which doubled as my office desk.

"Eating something that makes you nauseated to please a client counts."

So, okay, maybe I ate several salmon-and-cucumber sandwiches at a client meeting even though the slippery, slimy texture of the salmon made me want to vomit. "Please don't take me back there." I gagged, but the sound softened into a sigh of pleasure as I kicked off my high heels and flattened the arches of my feet onto my cool hardwood floors.

"You're telling me you've gone a full week without something ridiculous happening?"

Perhaps I was merely exhausted and low on a sense of humor, but sometimes it seemed like George only stuck around because he found me entertaining. And not in a good way.

Biting back hurt feelings, I wondered if my defensiveness was less about feeling tired and more about the fact that something stupid had happened to me today. "Fine." I cringed. "About thirty minutes ago, I was on the subway and I saw this guy standing across from me who was super familiar, and he kept looking over at me."

"Right . . ."

The mortifying moment was doubly awkward as I relived it. I squeezed my eyes closed against the memory, gritting my teeth. "Well, have you ever bumped into someone who you know but you can't place them or remember their name?"

"Yeah, that's the worst."

"Exactly. I'm thinking, Oh God, I know this guy, it's probably from college, but for the life of me I can't remember his name. When he looks at me again, kind of squinting, I'm thinking, Jesus, he knows me and he thinks I'm so rude for not saying hello. . . . So I just cover my ass and blurt out, 'Aren't you going to say hello? It's been forever; it's great to see you again.'"

"And?"

I buried my face in my hands, just moving my fingers from my mouth so George could hear my reply. "He looked at me like I was crazy and said, 'I'm sorry, we've never met before. I have no idea who you are.' Well, I couldn't explain to him who I was because I couldn't remember who he was, so we just stood there trying to avoid each other's eyes for the next ten minutes, and just as I got off the subway . . . I remembered where I knew him from."

"Where?"

My cheeks almost blistered my fingers with the heat of my embarrassment. "It was Joe Ashley, the news anchor, whom I have never met before but do watch regularly on TV."

There was a moment of silence, and then the sounds of choked laughter came from my phone. George was laughing so hard a reluctant smile curled the corners of my mouth.

"Oh man, oh babe, I'm sorry." George hee-hawed. "I don't mean to . . . but that's hilarious."

"I aim to entertain," I said dryly, switching on my coffee machine.

"Only you," he snorted. "These things only happen to you."

It certainly felt that way sometimes. I attempted to change the subject back to the reason I'd called him. "Are we still on for dinner tomorrow night?"

"Uh, yeah . . . but I was thinking you could come here and I could cook."

A romantic dinner at his place? My earlier annoyance fled the building. How sweet. How unlike him. It was our three-month "anniversary" next week. Maybe he wa…