Georgie, All Along (109)

Georgie watches me with anticipation while I turn my arm up, ready to write. I’m pretty sure she knows what I’m thinking. I’m pretty sure she knows I can do this by heart.

I look up at her and set the marker against my skin.

And I write the wish I wanted to make all along.





Acknowledgments Georgie, All Along is the seventh book for which I have written acknowledgments, and when I sat down to compose them this time around, I had the sudden concern that readers would notice that I always seem to have the same set of people to thank. But then, of course, I realized that I am so lucky to have that same set of people to thank, so lucky to be surrounded by loyal and longtime support that makes it possible for me to write these books. I hope you’ll indulge my gratitude for some folks who may be familiar to you if you’ve read one of these pages before.

The first group should be absolutely familiar because it’s you—readers and reviewers and bloggers and booksellers and librarians. Your support of my writing, your messages of excitement and kind encouragement, your book recommendations and your passion for the genre—they are a gift. I started writing romance because of the comfort and joy romance brought to me, and my hope has always been to give some of that back to the world. Thank you for all the ways you remind me why it matters.

My agent, Taylor Haggerty, and my editor, Esi Sogah, always deserve such a lion’s share of my gratitude that I hardly know how to articulate it fully. What I can say is that every writer should be so fortunate to have a team that pays such good attention to what the author needs during the drafting stage, even when said author does not always know it herself. I thank you both, as ever, for this attention—and for your belief in me, even when I am sure I am testing the limits of it. As I approached the final stage of revisions for Georgie, I was thrilled and fortunate to enlist the editorial services of Jennifer Prokop, who helped me see clearly how to craft and polish an ending that would truly shine.

The team at Kensington Books has worked tirelessly during a time of great pressure on the publishing industry, and I thank everyone there for the work they have done on all of my books, including this one. I owe special thanks to Michelle Addo, Lynn Cully, Jackie Dinas, Vida Engstrand, Norma Perez-Hernandez, Lauren Jernigan, Alexandra Nicolajsen, Kristine Noble, Jane Nutter, Shannon Plackis, Adam Zacharius, and Steve Zacharius. I also thank Kristin Dwyer and her entire team at LEO PR: Kristin, I cannot count the ways I was lost before you—you are a ray of sunshine in my life and an absolute powerhouse in publishing.

In the years since I began my publishing journey, the most profound lessons I’ve learned are about vulnerability in the creative process—how to share my own and how to be open to others’. I am grateful to so many people who have been willing to brainstorm and commiserate about writing, but I owe special thanks for Georgie to Lauren Billings, without whom I would not have had the courage to begin or finish this story: Lo, thank you for letting me be the mess I’m afraid to be and for loving me anyway. I also thank two marvelous early readers, AJ and Amy, who were willing to look at bits and pieces of this as I shaped it into something book-shaped. Your patience and enthusiasm saved me at so many points during the writing of this book. Sarah MacLean, thank you for always picking up the phone and saying, “Let’s talk it out.” You all make a lonely process feel so much less so.

Speaking of loneliness: there are many to thank for helping to keep it at bay as I wrote this book. Some are people, like my beloved family (all of you, I love you so), my dear and longtime friends (your names are written on my heart, always), my coworkers and extended community members, all of whom contributed to the vast and difficult project of fostering a sense of togetherness during a time when we have had to stay so far apart. Some are animals, like my sweet dog, by my side for every word I wrote of this manuscript. Some are things—things that have, during these last couple of years especially, been lifelines: books and puzzles and music and crafts; great TV series and films and funny videos on the Internet; soft pants and blankets and endless cups of tea; an exercise bike and coaches online who somehow managed to bring energy to the basement; every piece of technology that allowed me to see someone’s face and hear their voice, and every piece of technology that let me settle for typing out my hellos and how are yous and can you helps some days. I thank every creator who stared this period of history in the face and said, Let me make something that brings someone else comfort, or laughter, or joy.

I believe that all of us, no matter how we have spent our time over the last couple of years, owe a massive debt of gratitude to anyone working in a healthcare environment—research scientists, physicians, nurses, first responders, medical assistants of all kinds, hospital house staff at every level, public health workers and communicators, and more. I want to add here a particular thanks to the healthcare worker with whom I share my life, whose stoic and patient approach to these very difficult times has been nothing short of inspiring. I know you don’t like when I say it, but . . . you are, in fact, a genuine hero. Thank you for always making space for me, especially during a time when the world has allowed you so little.