By Joshilyn Jackson
Someone Else's Love Story is liked and hugely acclaimed New York Times bestselling writer Joshilyn Jackson's humorous, captivating, and poignant novel approximately technology and miracles, secrets and techniques and truths, religion and forgiveness; approximately falling in love, and studying that issues are not constantly what they seem—or what we are hoping they are going to be.
Shandi Pierce is juggling completing collage, elevating her pleasant three-year-old genius son Nathan, aka Natty Bumppo, and maintaining the peace among her without end warring, long-divorced mom and dad. She's received adequate problems with no getting stuck in the midst of a stick-up and falling in love with William Ashe, who willingly steps among the robber and her son.
Shandi does not understand that her blond god Thor has his personal issues. while he seemed down the barrel of that gun he believed it was once future: it has been three hundred and sixty five days to the day considering that a sad act of physics shattered his international. yet William does not outline future the way in which others do. a super geneticist who believes in evidence and numbers, future to him is set selection. Now, he and Shandi are approximately to satisfy their so-called destinies head on, making offerings that might exhibit unforeseen truths approximately love, lifestyles, and the realm they suspect they know.
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Additional resources for Someone Else's Love Story: A Novel (P.S.)
Loves poetry and Stephen King novels both. crops a patchwork backyard each spring, pansies within the carrots, loopy oregano attempting to cord with shepherd’s needles. He understands these items, yet they're like proof he learn in a countrywide Geographic in a ready room sooner or later, explicating the genus Bridget. She’s so far away she may perhaps besides be theoretical. The Bridget he desires is an past model. Ponytail Bridget in crimson speak high-tops. earlier than there has been a wedding or a Twyla or a Saturn wagon with out backseat. He closes his eyes, just to no longer be taking a look at this lady who isn’t Bridget, desirous to pay attention Bridget’s younger voice in a singleminded, determined, most unlikely means. An echo of his previous obsession, from while he was once seventeen, and she or he used to be the recent woman in class. while he her from type to lunch to classification to bus. She learn books—novels, not anything interesting—as she walked the halls, oblivious to him. She came upon a spot on the brainiac women’ lunch desk; those weren't the categories of ladies that soccer avid gamers spotted, so his stalking went uncharted. He was once so invisible to Bridget that two times she glided by shut sufficient for him to sniff her lemony shampoo, and but she by no means back his gaze. nobody had but proved the life of human pheromones, yet William grew to become convinced of them. there has been no different reason for his response to her solitary pleasure as she destroyed the park to elevate it, to the way in which the fundamental form and odor and sound of her undid him; she was once indefinably right for him. He knew it at the mobile point. Weeks of this, ill with loopy, silent longing, after which Paula stated it used to be turning out to be “Unabomber creepy. ” She made him pass category and took him up at the roof. She’d had a key, lifted off a janitor, due to the fact her freshman yr, and infrequently snuck up there to smoke. William lay flat on his again, squinting up on the solar, nonetheless hot although the air had a made up our minds kick back. Paula stripped right down to bra and panties, shivering, to take pleasure in it. She may well in addition were donning one in every of her mother’s voluminous caftans. His personal physique used to be attuned in basic terms to the place Bridget sat, flooring under. She used to be a purple laser dot on his psychological map of the college. The sunlight used to be not anything. the genuine warmth licked up at him from Bridget. His entire physique warmed and flushed, burning on the thought of her lower than him, regardless of a development in among them. in the meantime, at the roof, the place his mind used to be, Paula acknowledged, “You need to make a stream sooner than you find yourself torturing domestic dogs in a basement packed with Bridget-themed blow-up dolls. ” “I don’t have a move,” William stated. “Tell me a stream. ” But in its place Paula spent ten mins cataloging all of the ways that William was once now not allowed to damage it. “. . . and you’re forbidden to discuss tips on how to make quite good explosives. Or poisons. that may scare the shit out of her. Don’t discuss any of the six boring-ass books you're examining, or the truth that you’re examining six books at the same time, and God, don’t use the note at the same time, in any respect. Ever. I can’t think I used it.