For fans of Jenna Evans Welch and Barbara Dee, a timely and uplifting contemporary YA story of a young girl risking all for self-truth, family, and first love over one sun-drenched Greek summer.
Intrigued? Read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from Mima Tipper’s Kat’s Greek Summer, which is out May 13th 2025.
Ready—set—look out, world! Kat Baker is about to explode . . . onto the high school scene, that is. All she has to do? Spend July and August training with New Canaan High’s cross-country team, become a running goddess and, come fall, claim her place as the team’s star freshman runner.
When her mom shocks her with the unwelcome news that the family will spend the summer exploring their roots in the rustic Greek village of Paralia, Kat’s sure her high school popularity plan is toast. Once in Paralia, punishing heat and cultural clashes force her to launch a risky and covert training strategy to keep her running-star dreams alive. And it is during these hidden sessions that Kat is swept into late-night encounters with Theofilus Zafirakis, a beautiful but off-limits Greek boy.
As Kat’s lies mount, her secret odyssey spirals out of control, finally putting one of her cousins in danger. In the end, it takes the unexpected meddling of a village full of crazy, wonderful—and not so wonderful—Greeks for her to open up to her Greek side and stand strong, discovering at last that the key to belonging anywhere is belonging first to herself.
Kat opened Yiayiá’s front gate, the squeaky hinges making her hurry through, a prisoner making a break for it. Escape! She took off down the lane, laughter at her own silliness bubbling in her throat, even as she knew she didn’t want to wake the others. Didn’t want to risk anyone interfering with her early morning running plan. Besides, look at the morning. The sky, a deep, smoky blue, was tinged a dark orange that made the tops of the trees and the roofs of the houses stand out stark and black as cutouts. Everything below remained hidden by night, shadowy and indistinct. Kind of spooky.
Her legs lifted and pumped as she ran, and for a moment she imagined her feet leaving the ground, saw herself running into the air, up, up into the morning sky. A fizzy breathlessness
rose in her chest. Love the running? Easy today. She ran faster. It was good—really, really good—to be out on her own.
At the end of Yiayiá’s lane, she turned down the hill toward the sea. Gleaming and silvery as fish scales, the water drew her. She lengthened her stride, and when she reached the beach road, her feet turned toward Paralia. The drive from there to Yiayiá’s had been short. Surely, she could run to the village and
back no problem.
Dry air brushed her skin and, except for the gentle lap of surf over the pebbled beach, the only sound was the crunching pock pock of her shoes hitting the packed dirt of the road. She looked up at the houses. Few and scattered, they looked dropped from the sky. No activity around them either. Their shutters closed, the buildings asleep.
She ran on, and the edge of the sun peeked over the sea’s horizon. Squinting, she wished for sunglasses as the sun continued to rise, fast and sharp and hot. Blistering. She checked her watch. Barely after 5:00 a.m. Was this normal?
She licked her lips. They were parched, papery. She’d forgotten to drink water. So dumb. Here she was running out in the middle of nowhere, and she’d spaced on the most important part of being ready to run. She swallowed, trying to get some moisture into her mouth, down her throat. Her calves and ankles stiffened and, with an inward groan, she slowed. She hadn’t remembered to stretch either.
Even as her brain told her to stop, turn around, she didn’t. Then she saw the narrow blue road sign. Of course, it was in Greek, the letters that funny combination of circles, squiggles, and triangles. Underneath, familiar letters spelled out Paralia and 2 kilometers. That was only a bit more than a mile, making the run to the village and back about two miles. She could do that. At home she’d worked her way up to a mile and a half; two miles should be nothing, right? She slogged on, determined. She would run that far, because… because she didn’t want to go back.
Tendrils of hair stuck to Kat’s forehead and neck. The weightlessness of a few moments before disappeared as her legs went heavy and sluggish. Her breathing came in gasps, each lungful of air less satisfying than the one before. Without stopping, she peeled off her tank top and tucked it into the back of her shorts. She’d never run in only her sports bra, but she had to get away from the heat. Pressing on, she chanted to herself, “Around the bend. Paralia is just around the bend.”
The sky grew lighter, making everything more distinct, and with the light the bend in the road appeared farther away. She kept her eyes on the sea, willing herself to block out her discomfort by watching the color of the water shift from the shadowy shimmer of the early morning to the iridescent blue of the day before.
Aegean, A-a-a-a-gee-an. She sang the color with every breath, hoping she would at last slip into that running place where her mind forgot her body’s effort. If only she had her music! Sighing, she tried visualizing herself racing with the New Canaan team, but instead James popped into her head.
Weeks ago, when she started the whole running thing, he’d asked her what it was about. A hint of amusement choked in with her labored breathing. No way would she tell him about Mike Doherty or her cross-country team-queen fantasies. Still, she’d found herself wanting to share a tiny bit of it with him.
