I’m an author. That means I write books and I hope that people not only read them, but that they enjoy them and can relate to the stories and characters.
Every author’s goal is to touch the reader. We want our readers to relate to, enjoy, and become involved in our stories. We want to invoke emotions.
I’ve received many messages and e-mails since I started this journey. Some are bad. Some are good. I welcome all of them.
I’ve gotten thank you’s from women who fell in love with Jude. I’ve gotten thank you’s from husband’s who have benefited from the sexy scenes. I’ve gotten pervy one’s from people who can’t distinguish that I am an author of fiction and a married women and am not looking for anything other than people reading and enjoying my stories.
I’ve also gotten a couple of heartfelt messages that really touched me. These are my favorites.
But I have never gotten a letter like the one I received today.
I’m going to change the names in the letter because it’s a very heartbreaking letter, but it touched me so much. I am sitting here with tears and mascara running down my face, but with the greatest sense of accomplishment you can imagine.
Numbers and rankings are great and we all want them, but hearing that you’ve touched someone’s life is the best gift I can receive as an author and I am so humbled.
Here’s the letter… I warn you, you may need Kleenex.
“Dear Mrs. Turner,
I have never done this before, but after reading your book and the impact it had on my life, I felt like I needed to. I’d like to share my story with you. My name is Mandy. I’m 27 years old and I recently lost the love of my life and the other piece of my soul.
Rick and I grew up together, much like Jude and Lexi. I’m from a small town in Kentucky and not much ever happens or changes here. When I was 6 years old a new family moved into the house next door. The family had 3 children and the youngest was a boy a year older than me. His name was Rick. We became fast friends and spent all of our time together. By the time I was 13, I knew I was in love with him, but I didn’t think he’d ever see me the way I saw him.
I loved him in secret for 2 years and on my 15th birthday, at my party, he took me by the hand and asked me to be his girlfriend. That night was the first of many kisses. Eventually we moved onto other things. When he was 18, he decided after graduation he was going to join the military. I begged him not to. I was only 17 and I didn’t want him to leave me. I told him if he loved me, he would stay with me. I didn’t understand the selfless thing he was doing and in my youth, I thought that he didn’t love me enough to stay.
I ended things with him when he signed up. I was heartbroken and angry. I hated the world, and blamed everyone, not realizing it was my own selfish actions that had taken him from me. Eventually, another friend of ours snapped me out of it and said that Rick asked about me in every letter. The friend said I should contact him because he still loved me. I did. I wrote him a letter and apologized and begged for forgiveness.
After he was done with Basic training, he came home for a short while and we got back together. He was given his orders and he went off to Afghanistan. This time, I stayed with him. We wrote letters would talk whenever we could.
2 years later, he proposed to me while home on leave and we got married immediately before he left again. He reenlisted when it was time because he loved his country that much, only this time I was proud of him. I would tell everyone about my soldier and I couldn’t believe how lucky I was that we were together.
In July of this year, he was killed in action. I think a part of me died with him. I know my soul died. I didn’t want to live and I didn’t take care of myself. I was wasting away. Family and friends tried everything to bring me out of it, but all I wanted to do was cry and curl up and die. If I died, I could be with my Rick again.
A couple of weeks ago, my best friend stormed my house and I won’t go into details, but she made me get up, get dressed, and she literally shoved food in my mouth.
Everyone has been telling me that I should live that Rick would want that for me. But how can you live when your heart is gone?
The same friend bought me your book and told me to read it because she thought I would get something out of it. I ignored her and it sat on my device for a month. But this past weekend, I picked it up. I didn’t intend to read your particular book, but it was the book on the carousel and I decided to just read it to get my mind off of things. I devoured it. I felt what Lexi was feeling because I’d felt the same things with Rick. For the first time in months, I felt something other than pain and heartbreak. Your book made me laugh. It made me cry. But it also made me remember the love that Rick had for me and that I had for him. Our love was like Jude and Lexi’s love. It was forever. He was and always will be my soulmate.
I want to thank you for making me feel again. I want to thank you for reminding me that I don’t have to forget him or push my love aside for fear of the pain. Our love was beautiful and I need to remember it. I need to live and share our story with others.
Thank you Mrs. Turner. Thank you for writing this book and thank you to whatever power made me read it. Thank you for returning me to the land of the living. Best wishes to you and all of your success.
Sincerely yours,
Mandy XXXXXXXXXXX”
That right there is why I write and I thank you for sharing your story with me. May God Bless you and Best Wishes my dear.
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