She’s waiting to die. . . . Corin Thompson is paralyzed by her obsession with mortality. Having lost both of her parents, she is terrified by the idea that she too will die young, and she loses control at any sign of illness. But when Corin connects with someone who has survived a very real brush with death, she begins to see the world in a whole new way.
He’s learning to live. . . . As Corin struggles under the weight of her neuroses, Beckett Kingsley is attempting to rebuild a life that feels all too temporary. With the ever-present threat of heart failure never far from his mind, he just wants to make the most of whatever time he has left. And that means pursuing the girl he never expected to find.
Together, Corin and Beckett finally learn to let go of their fears and take solace in everyday pleasures. Who knows what the future holds? After all, nothing lasts forever—the only promise they have is right now.
Advance praise for Butterfly Dreams
“All the feels: poignant, funny, sad, beautiful, and inspiring! Your own belly butterflies will take flight.”—New York Times bestselling author Katy Evans
“A. Meredith Walters is the author I turn to when I want to get sucked into a beautiful story that packs an emotional punch.”—New York Times bestselling author Sawyer Bennett
“Butterfly Dreams is one of the sweetest, most beautiful novels I’ve read in a long time. My heart ached and warmed at the perfect story of Corin and Beckett.”—Sarah Robinson, bestselling author of Breaking a Legend
“Butterfly Dreams is one of the most poignant books I’ve read all year. It’s heartbreaking, real, and breathtakingly beautiful. A. Meredith Walters weaves a story that draws you in from the very first page and refuses to let you go even once it’s finished.”—Stacey Lynn, author of the Nordic Lords series
“The ending nearly killed me, but I survived. I read this book in one sitting, and what a roller coaster of a story. The author did an amazing job. . . . I found myself unable to put the book down.”—The Book Hookup
Includes an excerpt from another Loveswept title.
|Publisher:||Random House Publishing Group|
|Sold by:||Random House|
|File size:||842 KB|
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
“This is going to be great! This is going to be just what you need,” I murmured to myself, under my breath.
These pep talks had become as routine as everything else in my life.
I watched as people started going inside the church and continued to stand there with my hands shoved deep into my pockets, talking to myself like a lunatic.
“Smile, Corin.” I grinned at no one in particular, practicing being nonthreatening and likable.
I preferred to wait until everyone else was inside before making my entrance. The first group meeting was always difficult for me. I felt like an intruder. An imposter. Like I shouldn’t be there. I didn’t have a place.
It took me a bit to feel comfortable. Accepted.
But for now I would wait. Until just the right moment.
Eliminating the likelihood for small talk before the group actually started. I could slip in and take a seat without really having to talk to anyone.
“Are you here for the Mended Hearts group?”
I hadn’t heard him approach. I had been too busy talking to myself and doing internal fist bumps.
His voice was deep. Soothing. Like perfectly smooth honey.
I knew that voice.
Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world . . .
“Uh . . .” my voice trailed off into nothing and I stood there—my hands in my pockets, my wool hat pulled down over my ears, frozen in place.
“Come on, I’ll walk in with you,” he urged, a hand on my arm. Pressure I could feel through layers of clothing. Fire on my skin.
“Are you all right?”
Wet knees, shallow breaths. Sweet, tempered words meant to calm me down.
“No. I need a minute,” I snapped. I sounded rude. Cold.
I couldn’t help it. Because I recognized that lovely, deep voice full of genuine sympathy and concern.
It was a voice I’d never forget.
My face flushed hot in the chilly air. Cheeks red with embarrassment.
He snatched his hand away and took a step back. I chanced a look up, finally. Seeing his face for the first time.
And then promptly wished I hadn’t.
He was cute. Boyish even. With light brown hair on the longish side that looked as though he never bothered to brush it and blue eyes that probably sparkled when he smiled.
He wasn’t smiling now. He was looking . . . perturbed.
“Okay then,” he snipped back and I couldn’t help but smile at his attitude.
He frowned, clearly thinking I had lost my mind. I probably had.
Please don’t recognize me . . .
“Do I know you?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.
My cheeks weren’t just hot now. They had become a class-four forest fire.
My one-time Good Samaritan opened his mouth but I ducked my head, breaking eye contact.
Go away . . .
“Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you in there,” he said after a beat and I sagged in relief. He didn’t remember me.
I didn’t want him to. That day on the sidewalk in the snow had been bad. But unfortunately since then the days had gotten so much worse. The panic attacks. The anxiety.
But he didn’t remember me.
That was good. Anonymity was important for me.
So why did I feel disappointment ring hollow in my gut?