Next-Door Nemesis(92)

Questions for Discussion



When Next-Door Nemesis begins, we find out that Collins has recently moved back into her parents’ home after a video of her misbehaving goes viral. Have you ever gone viral? How do you think you would react to becoming “internet famous”?




Collins and Nate have two very different views of the HOA and what it does. Does your neighborhood have an HOA? How do you feel about homeowners’ associations?




Collins’s neighbor, Ashleigh, joins multiple multilevel marketing groups. Have you or would you ever join one? If you started your own MLM, what would you sell?




You are officially running for your neighborhood homeowners’ association. What is your campaign slogan?




In order to get back at Nate, Collins decides to run against Nate for the HOA board. What’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve done in the name of petty revenge?




Collins often speaks about her experience of feeling “othered” growing up and how it has affected her into adulthood. How do her past experiences impact her ability to open up to Nate and trust her community?




Throughout the course of the book, Collins’s idea of where and what home is transforms. What does home mean to you?




Collins uses her writing to express her feelings. What hobby or passion helps you when you’re feeling overwhelmed?




If you were elected to your HOA board and could create any bylaw for everyone to follow, what would it be?




Nate and Collins have a bumpy history together that colors the way they see each other years later. Are you a grudge holder? What’s the longest grudge you’ve held?





Keep reading for a special look at another romance from Alexa Martin

Better than Fiction





I know it’s not the politically correct thing to say, but school is most definitely for fools.

Listen, I get it. I won’t tell the kids, but I already fell victim to the great con. I was a good student—not full-scholarship good, but solid—went to a decent college, majored in something other than art. And where did it get me?

A high-paying job on Wall Street where I laugh at the peons around me complaining about school debt?

Not even close.

It landed me as the owner of a bookstore I most definitely didn’t want to own, pretending to care while this woman drones on and on about the difference between women’s fiction and romance. But, you know, good thing I aced that AP Chemistry exam.

“I’m so glad you’re able to find something you love here.” I pull out one of my many well-rehearsed responses. I hope it will send her on her way so I can do inventory—or pull out my hair—but then she cuts me off and hits me with something no amount of rehearsal could prepare me for.

“And I want you to know . . .” She reaches over and grabs my hand. I fight the urge to yank it back. Physical touch is def not my love language. “I’m just so sorry about Alice, she was always so kind to me.”

My fingers curl into hers, my aversion to touch temporarily forgotten as I seek the comfort I have yet to find since my grandma passed away a year ago.

“Thank you.” I can’t get the two small words out without my voice breaking. Sympathy swims in the woman’s eyes the same way I’m sure unshed tears are swimming in mine.

The woman, whose name I don’t remember, gives my hand one more gentle squeeze before walking away, off to bury her problems in a book with a happily ever after that’s so elusive to actual humans.

Alice Young was the best person I’ve ever known. The best person anyone has known. Every stranger who walked into her little bookstore walked out with more books than they probably wanted—and a new friend. The Book Nook sells books, obviously, but the real draw was getting to come and chat with Gran. She was wise beyond her seventy-two years and had a way of listening that made you feel like your biggest problem was actually just a pebble in your shoe. She made you feel as if you could accomplish anything. In the age of e-book conglomerates and chain bookstores dominating the market, the Book Nook never struggled.

Until she left it to me.

It’s not that I have self-esteem issues as much as I know my strengths and weaknesses. And my strength is definitely not sitting with a sympathetic ear and listening to other people’s problems. I’ve never been good at it, but I’m especially terrible at it when my own problems seem so big.

Huge.

Gigantic.

Insurmountable.

Because yeah, this isn’t my dream job or anything, but Gran left the bookstore to me. And sure, sales were through the roof the first couple of months after she passed away, with well-wishers coming to show their support. But now that the months have crawled by, people are going back to their lives. Unfortunately for me, that doesn’t include spending money at a store where Alice no longer greets them with her cheerful smile and welcoming ear.

If I don’t figure it out soon, I will lose the only tangible link I have left to my grandma.

On that thought, the bell above the front door rings and I look just in time to see Collette, Vivian, Mona, Ethel, and Beth file through the front door.

Oh shit.

I really need to check my calendar more often.