Harajuku Kiss has been released today.
Go grab it on Smashwords or Amazon.
About Harajuku Kiss
At time, life can be so depressing. She is walking her usual recovery
tour in Harajuku, finishing with a crepe, trying to forget that her
boyfriend dumped her once again for the week-end... when the unthinkable
happens... A boy stops in front of her in the street and kisses her, in
the middle of the street, before running away.
Trying to discover more about him, she is dragged into a dangerous game
of mystery. A biologist has been murdered and a deadly virus is on the
loose. First suspect: the mysterious Harajuku's stranger.
Excerpt
“He
didn’t dump you!” was Christa’s greetings when I entered our
common office the next morning.
She
was the most direct American girl I had ever met in my life.
Generally, American people would at least say good morning first or
something.
I
remembered once when I was sitting at the café with her, she told me
that a guy was staring at us. I turned around and he actually seemed
to be staring at us. That was not so uncommon. From time to time
people would stare at you, I mean, we are foreigners and it shows,
especially when out with Christa chatting full speed in English and
pretty loudly on the top of that.
“He
is cute,” she had said.
I
turned around once more but that was one time too many. Christa was
up and walking to his table.
“What
are you doing?” I whispered, but she was already too far to hear
me.
I
concentrated hard on my melon soda playing with my straw and wishing
not to turn as green as the gasified liquid. I could see Christa's
vague shape reflecting on the window in front of me.
“Hi.”
I
heard as she pulled the chair and sat in front of the poor guy who
probably didn’t know what was happening to him. The last thing I
know, after some times listening to her without saying a word, he
stood up and left, his sandwiches not even half eaten.
“I
think I scared him. Japanese guys are really strange,” Christa had
said sitting back on her chair.
Of
course,
she
had scared him.
Almost everyone in their right mind would be intimidated by a girl
sitting at their table and chatting
to them in a language that they most likely didn’t understand.
I would be scared if a guy was to do that to me.
One
other thing I have to say is that Christa’s Japanese is even worse
than mine, a lot worse than mine.
She
stood up from her chair and almost ran toward me, ready to ask more
details about my week-end. One thing's for sure: she likes gossips, a
lot.
“Of
course he did,” I answered, that wasn't really my favorite topic
for a Monday morning or any morning to be honest.
Follow my blog with Bloglovin
Find us on Google+
No comments:
Post a Comment