He'd always had that fearless optimism that made cynics like me squirm. I wondered if it was enough for both of us. I would never know from here, though. And time was passing. Crucial minutes and seconds, each one capable of changing everything.

If things don't work out the way you want, hold your head up high and be proud. And try again. And again. And again!

I'd known enough people for every minute of the day, and yet still didn't have anyone as my two a.m.

If nothing else, now we knew where to find each other, even if only time would tell if either of us would ever come looking.

I am never happy when I finish a book. I always start feeling good, and then I get to about Page 75 and start losing momentum - and I kind of pull it together at the end, but by then I think it's just all over. It's become almost a running joke among my agent and my editor - I always say that, so they don't take me seriously anymore.

I think I'm too lazy a writer to do something like historical fiction. You have to do so much research. I just write what I know.

The true story...is the realization that no time in your life is ever perfect, that even the best memories have cracks you might not see.