Because love, love is never finished. It circles and circles, the memories out of order and not always complete.

No one measures a life in weeks and days. You measure life in years and by the things that happen to you.

It came down to the smallest things, really, that a person could do to say I’m sorry, to say it’s okay, to say I forgive you. The tiniest of declarations that built, one on top of the other, until there was something solid beneath your feet. And then… and then. Who knew?

Family or love or romance, whatever it is, is not restricted to perfect people. If it were, it wouldn't exist. All of that comes out in my work in some way.

Sometimes rescue comes to you. It just shows up, and you do nothing. Maybe you deserve it, maybe you don't. But be ready, when it comes, to decide if you will take the outstretched hand and let it pull you ashore.

My first published book, Story of a Girl, was the fourth book I wrote.

My books usually end where they began. I try to bring characters back to a point that is familiar but different because of the growth that they have gone through.