Thirteen months ago my husband Eric told me he had met a delightful woman from Galveston with great book covers (“don’t know if they’re any good, but they look good”) and that she had waited around to meet me at an event. We missed each other. He gave me her email, and I contacted her. We started an on and off again correspondence, with several canceled coffees. She introduced me to Deborah K. Frontiera, another area author. I met Deborah. I didn’t meet Author Amanda Albright Still.

But still, we kept trying. I traveled, then she traveled, and we kept touching base, but failing to meet. I put the first novel in her series, Echoes of the Storm, on my TBR list. I didn’t get to it. And Amanda died in May 2014. At the age of 52.

So I finally bought Echoes of the Storm (it makes me cry to type that), and I finally started it; I read it while I was on the training bicycle. I didn’t have high hopes, but I didn’t care. I wanted to read it. So I did. Well, just typing that makes me cry too, because I really, really liked it. A lot. And most of the books I read, I have to be honest, I don’t. I sat there crying in the house by myself riding a bike and reading a book I should have read a year ago by a woman I should have met then, too. And I am so sorry I missed out.

Amanda I put my review up on Amazon, too. I am sorry I waited so long.

What makes us put off so many good things? There are a million reasons, good ones, bad ones. We move so fast. But we miss so much.

That’s all I’ve got.


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