~ Book Synopsis ~
Amazon | Smashword
The inspiration behind Always:
For a long time I’ve wanted to write a story about a friendship mixed with unrequited love. I liked the idea of a girl in love with a guy and then getting over him. Like, really over him, and still preserving their friendship. And then he falls in love with her. That dynamic had been dancing around in my mind for quite a while.
I’ve always had a soft spot for artists of all kinds. I’m an artist myself, and I love the idea of people bonding over what they create together. It’s powerful and the work exists outside of whatever personal dynamics people might be dealing with. The art can tie them together even when everything else might be pulling them apart. Mix that together with this theme of badly-timed love and Alwaysslowly started shaking out.
Brushing my teeth is golden writing time for me. I can’t tell you how many story-telling problems I’ve solved while brushing my teeth before bed. That’s exactly when Always started. Imagine me, toothbrush still in my mouth, toothpaste dripping off my lip, while I furiously typed an exchange of dialogue into the notes function on my iphone before it slipped away from me. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve started a story that way and hopefully it’s not the last. Anyway, that first bit of dialogue, which came before there was any kind of plot or characters, is still more or less in the book, at the tail end of Part 1. Let’s hear it for toothbrush inspiration.
About the AuthorLike many writers, Amanda Weaver spent her childhood constantly telling stories. College steered her in a different direction and into a successful career as a designer. Several years ago, she picked up writing again strictly as a hobby, to blow off some creative steam. One thing led to another, National Novel Writing Month happened, and here we are. Amanda Weaver grew up in Florida and now lives in Brooklyn, New York with her husband, daughter and two crazy cats.
From Chapter 1:
“Sorry you can’t stay for our next set,” she said brightly, aiming for off-handed.
“I am, too,” Dillon replied, sounding genuinely disappointed. “It feels like we have a lot more to talk about. Hey, why don’t you come to our show on Wednesday? We’re playing the Greek. I’ll leave your name at the box office and you can come backstage after. We’ll finish this then.”
Her heart pounded as the thrill worked its way through her. “Sounds good. Thanks.”
“No, thank you. This night turned out to be way more entertaining than I thought it would be.”
She took in his dark eyes, focused just on her, and the slight smile as they made plans to meet again. In that moment, it was the best night of her life. “For me, too.”
The song playing overhead suddenly cut off, like water being thrown on the crowd. The magic of the past half hour disappeared into the chatter of voices all around them.
A moment later, the DJ began the countdown to midnight and someone handed them shots. As the crowd shouted down the numbers, she looked at Dillon and he looked back, smiling. The moment felt huge, important, the kind you look back on years later and think “It all started then.” What they were starting wasn’t entirely clear yet, but Justine hardly cared. When “one” rang out, the room erupted into noise, Dillon tipped his head back and downed his shot. She watched his throat work as he swallowed before closing her eyes and raising her own glass to her lips with an unsteady hand. The burn slid down her throat, her chest erupting in fire, and she exhaled.
When she opened her eyes, Dillon’s face was just inches from hers and her breath stalled in her chest.
“How about a kiss to ring in the New Year?” he murmured.
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