Ford pulled her into his arms and smiled at her. “I don’t know. My life has definitely been more . . . entertaining since you’ve been in it. But there’s no one else I’d rather spend it with. And nowhere else I’d rather be.” He then homed in on her eyes. “Except maybe somewhere with this amazing dress in a pile on the floor and me between your legs.”
“About time you said something.”
“I’ve been spending the last few hours trying to talk myself off the proverbial ledge. I mean, clearly it’s no secret that I’m deeply, madly, and truly in love with you—as evidenced by not one, but two displays in this exhibition focused on our relationship—but I don’t need to be making any more headlines by pitching tent at the opening gala.”
Corrito Burrito unleashed a laugh, echoing in the exhibition hall, so loud she had to bury her head in his chest.
“I love your laugh.”
“I love you.”
He pulled her in for a kiss again, savoring every last ounce of her. Every now and then Corrie regretted all the years they’d spent loathing each other, but whenever he kissed her, those regrets went away. No, they’d come together at the perfect time and in the perfect way, tying a neat little bow on her life’s work on Chimalli. It might not have ended the way she’d anticipated—or even the way she’d hoped it would when Calvin had first appeared in her office offering her the job. But she wouldn’t change a thing.
“Ahem, excuse me. Doctors?”
Ford and Corrie separated their lips, but not their bodies, as they turned toward the voice. A short, round man in a tuxedo stood beside them.
“Hello, I’m Eugene Larity. I was hoping I could chat with you about a proposition.”
Corrie and Ford glanced at each other, then back at Mr. Larity. “I’m sorry, but we’re on sabbatical,” Corrie said. “We can refer you to someone else, however.”
“No, I’m afraid no one else will do.”
“Well, unfortunately we can’t help you,” Ford said. “Thank you, and have a nice evening.”
“You don’t understand. You’ll find a lot of . . . value in my proposition.”
Oh, they understood all right. “We don’t do jobs for payouts,” Ford said. At least, not anymore. Though, seeing as Ford had never been paid a dime by Vautour, technically they’d never done any job for a payout. He took Corrie’s hand and they started to walk away.
“I’m not talking about money. I’m talking about revenge. I believe we have a mutual enemy, Doctors. A Mr. Pierre Vautour?”
Corrie and Ford halted in their tracks.
“Excuse me, did you say Vautour?” she asked.
“I did. He stole something from me. Research on the location of the Lost City of the Moon.”
“The City of the Moon isn’t real,” Ford said.
“I assure you, Dr. Matthews, it is. And I need you to find it before Vautour does.”
The Lost City of the Moon. A mythological city in the Amazon full of riches beyond the imagination, swathed in shimmering precious stones and metals visible only in the moonlight. Hundreds of explorers had searched for the fabled lost civilization for many centuries to no avail. They might as well have been searching for Atlantis. What made this Mr. Larity think he’d found it?
But Corrie’s interest had been piqued.
“How do we know we can trust you?” she asked.
“What? Corrie, no. You can’t be serious,” Ford whispered, pulling her away from the man.
“You said it yourself, Ford. We’ll never settle down.”
“But we have no idea who this man even is.”
“Here are my credentials,” Larity interrupted, handing a folder to them. “You can contact the authorities if you would like. I have nothing to hide.”
“Who are you, exactly?” Ford asked.
“I’m an explorer like yourselves. Though, unfortunately, only a hobby explorer. I’m not built for expeditions and knife fights. I need professionals. I need the two of you, for not only your physical strength, but also your knowledge. And hopefully your taste for vindication.”
Revenge. How sweet it would be to see Vautour behind bars right next to Lance. Corrie relished the thought.
“What say you?” she asked, turning toward Ford. “Are you ready for another adventure, Weak Sauce?”
He hung his head, shook it, then smiled. “With you, Badass? Absolutely.”
Author’s Note
It started with a tweet: What kind of jobs do you wish you saw more of in #romcom books for both the hero and the heroine?
I—a lover of archaeology and fun, sexy romcoms—responded: Archaeologists. Plenty of “bones” to examine.
I grew up watching movies like Romancing the Stone, The Goonies, Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark, and the rest of the Indiana Jones franchise. Later came franchises like Lara Croft, The Mummy, National Treasure, and The Librarian. I loved these stories about lost civilizations, treasure hunts, and ancient mysteries, and they were even better when they threw in a little romance. I dreamed of being an archaeologist and even participated in a Mayan dig in a Belizean jungle—one of the coolest experiences of my life. Ultimately, my career led me in a different direction, but that didn’t bring an end to my fascination with archaeology and love of adventure movies.
So back to that tweet. It had been intended as a joke, but days later, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I thought, what if a badass adventurer, à la Lara Croft, teamed up with a This belongs in a museum-type stickler, à la Indiana Jones （yes, I know Indy is also a badass, but bear with me）？ Picture it—Harrison Ford, I mean, Indy with those wire-rimmed glasses flashing that sexy, almost bashful smile at the heroine? Sign me up! And what if this Lara Croft–type character was Latina and she was searching for remains of her Aztec ancestor? My Mexican heritage is extremely important to me, so I wanted to include Latinx/e representation—especially since in the list of movies above, not a single one has any （at least not with any of the leads）。 Once I settled on the premise, I immediately decided to name the heroine Socorro after my great aunt Corrie, who was a badass in her own right. Also, the name Socorro means “help,” which is so fitting of Dr. Mejía’s character. And so, Raiders of the Lost Heart was born.
While I spent hours researching the lives of the Aztecs, I took certain liberties with this book for the sake of storytelling. Tenochtitlán, Moctezuma II, and the downfall of the Aztecs following the arrival of the Spanish are all real. The Aztec warrior Chimalli and the Spaniard Mendoza mentioned in this book are not. I tried to be sensitive to Aztec culture by acknowledging their way of life and by not condemning practices, such as human sacrifice and castration, that might seem ruthless in modern times. These were religious rituals that we might not understand today but were very important and meaningful to the Aztecs to ensure their gods were satisfied and their lands were fertile. I have included details of Aztec life in this book with the utmost respect and hope that it comes through in my writing.
I’ve traveled to Mexico and parts of Central America on multiple occasions, but I have not visited the Lacandon Jungle, the primary location where most of the events in Raiders of the Lost Heart take place. The landmarks described in this book are generally fictional to allow Corrie and Ford flexibility on their adventures. In addition, while the Aztec Empire did not extend into the Lacandon, it was a perfect location for the type of flora, fauna, terrain, and climate I was seeking, while also not being too far outside the geographical range that Chimalli could realistically flee.