When a Hollywood starlet is unexpectedly reunited with the costar who broke her heart, their chemistry has her questioning what’s reel and what’s real in this heartfelt summer romance about first loves and second chances.
Intrigued? Read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from Star-Crossed Summer by Devon Daniels, which releases on July 7th 2026.
It’s been ten years since the fateful summer Scarlett Everhart filmed The Lost Letter, the tearjerking romantic drama that catapulted her to worldwide fame and set her on a collision course with Ryder Perry, the movie’s intense, irresistible leading man. The pair’s fiery onscreen chemistry captured audiences’ hearts—while their whirlwind affair offscreen shattered Scarlett’s into a million pieces. Determined to move on, she made a vow: to focus on her career, leave Ryder in her past, and never, ever look back.
A decade later, Scarlett’s kept that promise. She’s become one of Hollywood’s most bankable leading ladies and is on the cusp of the biggest role of her career. And if she’s been unlucky in love, at least she’s managed to put her ill-fated relationship with her former costar—and the public’s obsession with the pair’s star-crossed romance—behind her. That is, until a sudden twist of fate thrusts her and Ryder back together in the seaside South Carolina town where they first fell in love, then fell dramatically apart.
As old sparks reignite, Scarlett is swept back into the love story that once defined her life, forcing her to reckon with the choice that tore them apart…and the devastating secret she’s been keeping since their breakup all those years ago.
EXCERPT
“So, what’s going on?”
Joanne clears her throat. “Well, an opportunity’s come up that we need to discuss.” There’s a pause. “Please notice that I used the word ‘opportunity,’ which is how I’d like you to look at it.”
Uh-oh. “Now you’re making me wish I screened your call,” I quip. Kendall motions for me to close my eyes again, then starts penciling on eyeliner.
“I got a call today from Reid Sterling over at Paramount. Apparently, September marks the ten-year anniversary of The Lost Letter.”
My eyes fly open and Kendall’s hand freezes mid-stroke, her gaze darting to meet mine. It’s incredible how just hearing those words kicks my heart into high gear, like I’ve been given a shot of adrenaline straight to the vein.
“It’s been ten years already? Wow, I feel old,” I say haltingly, trying to mask my reaction with a joke. “So why was Reid calling?” I ask, hoping I’m adequately modulating my voice. You’re an actress. Act unaffected. I twirl my finger in a circle, motioning for my sister to carry on.
Joanne clears her throat. “I’m sure you’ve heard about the damage Seafolly sustained from Hurricane Rachael.”
I make a noise of assent, my heart heavy as my mind spools through all the horrible images I saw splashed across the news: the quaint cottage homes destroyed, the historic hotels and restaurants lining the town’s main street storm-ravaged and empty, the rows of stately old oak trees downed and tangled in power lines, entire streets washed away like they were never there. Seeing the devastation wrought by the cata-strophic storm made my already melancholy memories of the place I’d once loved so much all the more bittersweet.
But despite its present grim condition, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to picture Seafolly any differently than how it’s been frozen in my memory: the lush clusters of weeping willows, draped in Spanish moss and tunneled over the streets; the sherbet-colored storefronts with their Dutch doors swinging, the local proprietors ready to offer you the shirt off their backs; the chirping of the cicadas, so loud it became like a ringing in your ears; the pelicans skimming across the water in perfect formation every evening at dusk, sun dipped low on the horizon. It’s impossible to imagine Seafolly any other way than as the spot that, for a short time at least, had been my favorite place in the world.
“As I’m sure you’re aware, The Lost Letter still drives a significant amount of tourism to Seafolly,” Joanne continues. “Fans flock there to eat at the restaurants where Holden and Melody ate, charter flights at the old airplane hangar, go on tours of the farm, get their picture taken at Seafolly Beach . . . or I guess I should say, they did.” She clears her throat. “Any-way, the studio had already been wanting to commemorate the anniversary, and, well, they saw an opportunity.”
I’m not liking the sound of this. The way Kendall’s avoiding my eyes only amplifies my anxiety. “An opportunity for what?”
“They want to issue an anniversary edition of the film, which would include unreleased footage and deleted scenes, as well as some retrospective interviews with cast members. Sort of a grand re-release, if you will, with a limited run in select movie theaters and an accompanying streaming special that would include a benefit concert, among other things. And they’ll be donating a significant portion of the proceeds to the Seafolly rebuilding efforts.”
“Is that all?” I say, mentally exhaling. While a brief resurgence in Lost Letter popularity isn’t ideal, I can weather that storm. Pun unintended.
“Well, no,” she says, a note of hesitation creeping into her voice, and my relief is short-lived. “In order to film the retrospectives, they’re asking cast members to return to Seafolly for a reunion.”
“Absolutely not,” I say instantly, and with so much force that Kendall flinches and takes a step back. If she’d been giving me the Pfeiffer cat eye, the winged liner would be slashed across my temple. Any attempt at tempering my reaction has flown out the window, but disguising my feelings is the least of my concerns right now. See Ryder again? It can’t happen. I’ve successfully avoided him for ten years, and I’m not about to break that streak now.
Joanne ignores my outburst, going on like I haven’t spoken. “It would require a week’s worth of your time next month, in August. The studio’s put together a whole slate of activities. You’d be revisiting some of the movie’s most iconic filming locations, as well as doing a roundtable press event with the main cast. There would also be an online auction where fans would have the chance to bid on wardrobe and props from the movie, as well as certain experiences.”
“Joanne, I feel like you’re not hearing me,” I interrupt, my heart racing faster the longer she talks. “You don’t need to bother selling me on this. I get it, it’s for a great cause, and the people of Seafolly need our help. To that end, I will gladly make a sizable donation to make up for my absence.”
There’s a stretch of silence, though her disapproval is deafening. “I know I don’t need to explain how it will look if you decline to participate in a charity initiative like this. The optics would be horrible, especially considering that town helped make you who you are. Not to mention the PR nightmare that would ensue if you’re the only cast member who no-shows.”
I spot my lifeline, and I cling to it like a raft in the ocean. “Well, good news—I won’t be the only holdout, because there’s no way Ryder will agree to this, either.” It’s our unspoken rule, and one of the only things I know we’re still on the same page about: the Seafolly chapter of our lives needs to remain permanently in the past where it belongs.
“Well, that’s the thing. Ryder’s already agreed.”
“He what?!”
I shoot to my feet, my body electrified by panic. Kendall’s eyes are saucers, her face etched with concern that undoubtedly mirrors my own. She’s the only person who understands just how precarious this situation is.
I start pacing a loop around my kitchen island. “This doesn’t make any sense. Ryder doesn’t want anything to do with me or Seafolly. Why would he change his tune now? Ow!” I mut-ter a curse as I stub my toe on a counter stool mid-lap, adding injury to serious insult.
“I don’t know the specifics, I just know he’s confirmed as attending. Reid seemed quite pleased to share that part, which tells me they must have anticipated your reaction.” She hesitates. “I got the impression that if you decline, it could turn into a public pressure campaign.”
The implied threat is clear. “You mean they’ll leak it.”
“I think so. And you know what all the articles will say.”
“I do,” I say glumly. “ ‘Scarlett can’t face Ryder.’ ” I whip open the door of my Sub-Zero and blast my face with cold air. I wish I could climb inside and never come out. I wish I could cryogenically freeze myself until this reunion has passed. “Jo, I’ve spent ten years trying to get people to stop talking about us. This is going to dredge everything back up.” I can hear the rusty gears of the rumor mill grinding back to life, and brace myself for the return of headlines and hashtags from hell: Ryder & Scarlett: From #HoldMe to #HoldOut.
“I know. And for what it’s worth, I did try to get you out of it. Not that it did any good.”
I make one last-ditch attempt at saving myself. “Can’t we just tell them I have a scheduling conflict? It’s not a lie. Every-one knows I’m prepping for The Ingenue.”
“Everyone also knows it doesn’t start filming until October.” She sighs. “Look, I know this isn’t ideal, but I think we need to look at the silver lining.”
I bark an incredulous laugh. “What silver lining?” There is
no silver lining. Only dark, foreboding thunderclouds.
“All the attention can only help The Ingenue. Think about it, every article that’s written about the reunion will mention your next project. You can’t buy that kind of publicity.” She pauses. “Also, you could use a vacation.”
I snort. Yeah, because spending a week avoiding my ex-costar-slash-first-love is sure to be just the relaxing respite I need.
“I’m serious! Look, you’re about to embark on a very intense project that will require a lot of you over the next year. I think you should look at this as an all-expenses-paid, much-needed vacation to a spot you love—”
“Used to love—”
“Where you’ll reconnect with some old friends and raise money for a worthy cause while you’re at it. Instead of fighting it, try to enjoy it.”
Right, I think with a mounting sense of dread. Because that outcome is about as likely as happily ever after.
