Book Complete! Plus, Sneak Peek

Well, I kept my word (to myself) and wrote Good … In Theory in just six months. Honestly, getting out over 74,000 words in that amount of time is a lot, but it was so cathartic. When I have a story in my head, I feel like a caged lion if I can’t get to my desk and write, which likely sounds strange to those who aren’t writers, but that’s the best description I can give. I need to do it!

Funny enough, when I get to the last two chapters, though, it’s like when you’re down to the final bites of cake: you really want to enjoy it, but you know it’s going to be gone soon, and that makes you a little sad.

I do this strange thing at the end of a writing project where I like to fixate on the “high” I got while writing certain scenes. Remember when Colin played Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman? Remember when Lacey was trying to process her feelings about the concept of soulmates and ended up turning? Remember when Saoirse opened up about her past? Remember when Lacey and Colin kissed? The funny thing is that, when you’re writing a book, you can only enjoy those moments with yourself until the book is actually out for other people to read.

I think that’s why I get such a kick out of my writing group!

As a special treat, I wanted to give you a snippet of the book this month, so maybe you can see what I’m so excited about! Check it out below.

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Excerpt from Chapter Six

(Lacey and her cousin have just entered a friend’s, Libby’s, apartment to hang out for the evening.)

The guitar player isn’t here, which I strangely feel both disappointed and relieved by. I don’t need to complicate my life right after a breakup with a potential gang member—maybe that would explain the money—and an un-natural disaster, but I also have this horrible curiosity about whatever that was.

“Have a seat wherever,” Libby says. She gestures to her tidy little living room full of poufs and folding chairs, which she must have brought in because we can’t all fit on her plump white couch. I pick a folding chair because I know I’ll end up smearing pizza sauce on that sofa. “We heard that your lab is closed down for a while. I saw a story on my news app. Any idea what happened?”

I let out a long sigh and fill them in on what I know, which isn’t much, while everyone is grabbing drinks. Saoirse hands me a ginger beer and taps the neck of mine with her own. “Cheers,” I whisper, and she winks at me.

When the pizza arrives, we descend on it like a pack of raptors. “Looks like you’re in luck, Lacey. They forgot the anchovies,” Anthony laughs. I wrinkle my nose at him and grab a slice.

The conversation shifts to plans for the summer and how busy the piano bar will probably be. I’m doing a lot of listening, just figuring out everyone’s personalities and following along with the conversation, since I don’t have much to add about their work. I nod politely and take a bite of pizza. It’s really good! I’ll have to see where they got this and make it my regular place. Maybe I’ll suggest it for our next all hands meeting. At least good pizza would be something to look forward to!

I’m mid-thought on making meetings interesting when everyone in the room erupts into “heys!” Libby leaps from her spot on the sofa—huh, no sauce anywhere!—and rushes past me to the entryway. A man is pulling his shoes off and hanging his jacket, and Libby throws her arms around him for a quick squeeze. When he enters the room, I’m glad I just swallowed the bite of pizza already. It’s the missing musician, and a quiver goes through me like a plucked guitar string.

After fist-bumping Anthony and Wes, the man snags a Sam Adams from the kitchen and then sits on a folding chair.

“Lacey, I don’t think you’ve met Colin,” Libby says. “He plays piano and, oh! You would have seen him Saturday, playing guitar. Most people remember Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman? when Colin performs it.”

“Oh yeah?” I respond, as if I had trouble remembering. As if the second he sauntered into the room, I didn’t know it was him. “That was great! Nice to meet you!” We both rise a bit and shake hands across the coffee table. The touch is, honestly, electric, and I’m sure my face is as pink as my shirt. We lock eyes, and my breath catches. I see his smile half quirk.

When he sits, that crooked smile gleams across the room at me. “Libby gives me too much credit. I’m happy that I get to join the group a couple nights a week and make some magic with our music.”

“It’s definitely magical.” God, I sound dumb. “When did you start playing guitar?”

“High school. I wanted to ditch my nerdy reputation and get a prom date. Some of my friends had a band: Every Girl’s Dream. It was, in fact, not. We all ended up going to prom stag.”

The whole group laughs.

“You took piano lessons as a kid, though, right?” Wes asks. “I think we all did.”

“Yeah. That’s part of the nerdy reputation thing. Until now, of course. We all get to be hometown rock stars.” Colin does a silly groove move and tips his chin. “We’re big with the 35 and older crowd.”

“Gotta love when the local mom group does their night out and they get a little wild because they’re so used to being home with their kids,” Libby adds. “One of them actually yelled, ‘Take your shirt off,’ when Colin was doing his song a few weeks ago.”

Everyone is almost in tears at this point. Of course, I can’t judge because I don’t get out often either.

A while later, the pizza is long gone, and I head to the kitchen for a glass of water. I lean against the counter for a minute. They are a nice group, but I’m starting to get tired. Maybe I should see if Saoirse is ready to go. I’m about to head back to the living room when Colin walks in and that familiar tremor ripples through me.

“Hey.” He grins and pulls the refrigerator open. “Having fun?” He pops the cap off of another beer and leans on the counter by the fridge, across from me.

I chuckle. “Just needed a minute to myself. I’m getting a little tired. The last few days have been a whirlwind.”

“Sorry to hear that. Saoirse seems really happy to have you back in her life. That’s what Anthony was saying Saturday night.”

I frown. I guess they have been talking about me. “I’m glad we’re talking again. Weird that she ended up saving my butt the other night, but I’m glad it gave us this chance.” He gives me a questioning look, so I brief him on the events that led up to me staying at her house.

“Geez. Really sorry you had to go through that. Maybe it’s good though, since it landed you back in her world. It’s funny how things work out like that …”

I take in the look on his face. It calls me to a hidden tale. The intensity of his eyes, cast downward, distant. “I feel like there’s a story there.”

“Ah.” With a swipe of a hand, he brushes the importance away like a gnat. “Just thinking about how I got into my work. My gran.”

“Was she a musician too?”

“No, nothing like that.” Colin crosses the kitchen and leans against the counter beside me, like he’s going to share a secret. I notice that he’s actually taller than me. He runs a hand through his hair, brushing it out of his face, and the cowlick at his temple pops the shorter hairs there right back up. The dim lighting dances across the gold flecks in his blue eyes. “Gran had a heart problem when I was little. Needed a transplant. She was on the list for a while but couldn’t find a match. It was weird to think that someone would have to die for my grandmother to live. I couldn’t shake that for years. I wished it didn’t have to be like that, but sadly, that’s what the truth was. Eventually, she passed, and we were all crushed. Granddad moved in with us, so we got to be really close, and I really treasure the time we had together when I was growing up, but what about Gran? All those could-have-been moments with her were taken away. And my brother and sister were younger, so they don’t even remember her as well as I do.”

I feel tears welling up as I listen to his story. How heart-breaking! “That’s so hard. I’m sorry to hear that.” I touch his arm sympathetically, and our eyes lock again.

Through a sad smile, he continues. “I don’t usually tell that story.” He clears his throat. “But good came out of it. This is why I do what I do.”

“She’s why you got into music? I thought that was to get a prom date.”

He chuckles softly. “That’s why I started playing guitar. And I only fill in a couple nights a week at Riff’s. That’s not my full-time gig.” Swigging his beer, he continues. “I didn’t want others to go through what our family did. It was hard to lose Gran to something that felt so … avoidable. I went into biology so I could help design artificial hearts, as an option for those who are waiting for a human heart. To give them time.”

Wow. I’m sure my eyes are bugging out of my head right now. I have to say something to lighten the mood. It’s getting incredibly serious in here. “You design artificial hearts? That’s incredible. You know, I bet that story would work with the ladies.” I playfully punch his arm.

His belly laugh echoes in the kitchen, and I get caught up in his mirth, laughing too. “Surprisingly, it works better than being in a high school rock band. Though I haven’t tried it on the bridge club that comes in on Thursdays …” He shakes his finger at me. “You gave me an idea!”

“You could always find yourself a sugar mama there, I’m sure!”

“Cheers to that.” As Colin leans toward me to clink his beer against my glass, our eyes lock again, but this time, a wisp of memory drifts through my mind and clicks into place. I’ve seen those eyes before. Flecks of gold on blue … so unusual. And I think I know where.