The days are flying by, and This Heart of Mine will be released on February 27th. That’s less than a month away! This book was probably the hardest book for me to write. A lot of it came from my life. You see, this is a story about a seventeen-year-old girl who needs a heart transplant. It’s about facing death, learning to accept life again, and learning to live with someone else’s heart. My husband recently went through a transplant and his pain, my pain, his fear, my fear, and the learning to live again all came from personal experience. Even the paranormal thread of feeling you have a little of the donor inside you all came from this real life experience.
So as you read This Heart of Mine you’ll learn that:
- Everyone dies eventually. But when you always expected to die sooner rather than later, it’s hard to wrap your head around the fact that you might just live to a ripe old age.
- Sometimes it’s harder and takes more energy to have faith in a positive outcome, than it is to accept the worst. But nothing is sweeter than when life proves you wrong.
- Growing up, discovering who you are is hard to do when you’re dying.
- You can be dying and still feel the butterflies from a hot guy and the perfect kiss.
New Excerpt from This Heart of Mine
“Let’s walk Lady. Then it’s my turn to buy lunch. And it doesn’t have to be Indian food.”
Her smile pulls one out of him. “Sounds good.”
They stand up, and Lady bolts, tearing the leash from Matt’s hands. Leah runs and grabs it.
“Good catch,” he says, a few feet behind her.
“Wait.” She swings around, running right into his arms. He catches her by the shoulders. “I . . . I forgot my phone,” she says weakly.
Just like that, he’s back. Back in her house. Back to the second before he got the best kiss of his life.
And like before, she’s against him. Her chest moves to take in air. She’s close.
He likes close. He can smell her hair, her skin, her breath. He can feel her breasts against his chest. Dare he take a chance?
Eric would call him a coward if he didn’t.
“Oh,” he says. “I . . . I thought you were going to kiss me.”
For a second I think I’m imagining the words. Because the same ones are fluttering like big butterflies through my mind. But I don’t waste time.
I tilt my chin up. “Do you want me to kiss you?”
He’s wearing that crooked smile. “If you’re Leah, I’ve been wanting you to kiss me since sixth grade.”
I lift one brow. “I said seventh.”
His hands melt around my waist. “I know,” he says matter- of- factly. “I’ve wanted to kiss you longer than you have me.”
I laugh then fall right back into the part, because this isn’t finished. And that’s the best part.
“Is your heart strong enough?” I ask. He tilts his head down. “Are you that good of a kisser?” His eyes are so beautiful, his mouth so close, and my dreams are a breath away from coming true.
The fact that he remembers verbatim what was said on that day eight months ago makes me feel light, airy. I’m happy to be me. And I haven’t been happy to be me in a hell of a long time.
I’m a romance heroine in my own book.
I’m New Leah.
I’m not dying.
I’m so damn alive and I feel it.
I feel everything— his hands against my waist, his muscled chest against my breasts.
It’s still not enough. I need what comes next. He hesitates, as if waiting on me.
Not a problem. I’m going for what I want.
I lift up on my tiptoes and press my lips to his.
His tongue slips between my lips.
He tastes like strawberry jam, and a hint of mint. He feels strong. He feels . . . I feel . . .
His hold on my waist tightens ever so slightly. The kiss is even better than the one before. We’re not in my hallway where Mom is going to see. We’re not in earshot of my dad announcing he’s home.
I feel myself easing closer. And we kiss and kiss until even this closeness doesn’t seem like enough.
Which is the point when I know we need to stop. I pull back.
I’m breathing hard. So is he.
His lips widen in the softest, sweetest, sexiest smile I’ve ever witnessed. And I’m mush. I have to lean against him to keep my knees from buckling.
“Hello,” he says.
“Hello,” I answer.
Lady chimes in with a bark.
His chin dips as if to kiss me again, but my phone rings from the bench. His smile fades. “Should you answer that?”
Leah has good memories of her first kiss with Matt, but she’ll have even better memories of their second kiss. Tell me about your first kiss. Do you remember your second kiss?