Love Craves Cardamom (Love in Translation)

Love Craves Cardamom (Love in Translation)

A KIRKUS REVIEWS BEST BOOK OF THE YEAR An aspiring teen art curator who’s sworn off love spends a semester in India, where the first boy to give her butterflies again has a royally surprising secret—part of the international Love in Translation series of standalone YA romances. “A swoon-worthy romance about following your heart. I absolutely adored this book.” —Ann Liang, New York Times bestselling author of I Hope This Doesn’t Find You Archana Dhawan wants a boy-free zone this semester abroad. Fresh off a breakup, she’s headed to Rajasthan, India—her parents’ homeland—determined to find herself and thrive at her dream art museum internship. No drama. No distractions. Alas, the universe is trying to tempt her. On day one, she meets the hottest boy on the train. Soon after, she runs into him again at work. Not only is the museum tied to a palace, but the cute guy, Shiv, is a royal gardener! As he takes her to the most gorgeous local spots, their undeniable chemistry grows. Then Archi gets shocking news: Shiv is not who he seems. Now she’s left wondering—was this brush with love the beginning of something warm and complex or just another bittersweet end? The swoony Love in Translation romances can be read together or separately: LOVE REQUIRES CHOCOLATE • LOVE CRAVES CARDAMOM “ Delightful, delicious, and deeply thoughtful. A sparkling romance that goes beyond a girl finding the boy of her dreams abroad to combine friendship, food, history, activism, and art into a beautifully immersive experience. I loved every page! ” —Amalie Howard, USA Today bestselling author of Lady Knight “ A must-read for tourists and romance lovers alike! It is a richly blended tapestry of a story about art, love, and culture told with a relatable voice and an adventurous heart . ” —Timothy Janovsky, USA Today bestselling author of Never Been Kissed “With a swoon-worthy romance at its center, Love Craves Cardamom is a charming story about reclaiming art, culture, and ultimately yourself. " —Gabriella Gamez, USA Today bestselling author of The Next Best Fling “ A thoroughly modern fairy tale that shimmers with the history and opulence of Jaipur on every page. Readers will crave even more from Archi and Shiv as they step into the world on their own terms.” —Sabrina Fedel, author of All Roads Lead to Rome “ A swoon-worthy romance about following your heart , even—or especially—when it takes you to unexpected places . With sharp, vivid prose, Aashna Avachat brings the world and characters of Love Craves Cardamom to life. I absolutely adored this book. ” —Ann Liang, New York Times bestselling author of I Hope This Doesn’t Find You “Sweet as mithai and brimming with heart, Love Craves Cardamom takes readers on a dazzling journey to Jaipur. Richly layered and deeply relatable, this is a warm hug of a story that will leave you swooning and craving a second helping .” —Farah Naz Rishi, author of If You’re Not the One “Sweetly romantic and engaging, Archi's journey of art, love, and self-discovery is a delight .”—Emma Mills, author of Foolish Hearts " A compelling stand-alone debut blending adventure, romance, and self-discovery." — Kirkus Reviews Aashna Avachat is a young adult author from California who has worked in publishing since college. She studied English and Philosophy at the University of California, Berkeley, and law at Harvard Law School. When she’s not writing, she’s probably reading on a sunny patch of grass, going on long walks to grocery stores, or hanging out with one of her many foster kittens. Love Craves Cardamom is her debut novel. Chapter 1 Boy-Free January Holy hell, I never knew I could be this jet-lagged. Twenty-two hours from the airport in Washington, D.C., to Delhi, India, then two nights at a family friend’s home, and now a long train ride to Jaipur, Rajasthan. If I fall asleep and miss my stop, my mother is going to kill me. And I wouldn’t even blame her. It’s not that I’m not excited about heading to Jaipur. I’ve been texting one of my best friends, Whitney, a new photo every two seconds--a green-and-yellow sign with the name of the station painted on it, the farmland we pass, the metropolis disappearing behind me . . . I stifle a yawn. At least I’m nearing the end of the journey. Any longer and I’ll show up in Jaipur looking like a zombie. I stare out the window, focusing on the beautiful mountains in the distance to stop myself from nodding off. Thankfully, there aren’t that many people on the train, since the early morning commuter rush is over. I’m on my own for the first time, and it’s so different from all the family trips we took when I was a little girl. Mamma grew up here, though her family is from Pun-jab; Baba met her while he was here for work. Memories wash over me of Mamma and Baba, always with a packed itinerary: countless visits to see their old friends, meetups with distant relatives who barely knew my name, poojas in tem