Hello! We’re so thrilled to celebrate with Savannah Page as she welcomes her new book Everything the Heart Wants, to the world!
About the book:
Writer Halley Brennan couldn’t dream up a better love story than her own. Married for eleven years, she and her husband, Adam, are still living their happily ever after. They both know what they want—and don’t want—for their life together. And that includes being child-free. But when one of them has a change of heart about wanting a baby, it brings their marriage and life plans into harsher focus.
Devastated that this bombshell might destroy their relationship, Halley finds comfort in her closest friends: Nina, who’s finally pregnant after years of trying; her sister, Charlotte, an overwhelmed mother of three; and Marian, a successful businesswoman who regrets letting go of her one true love.
Now, with their guidance and support, Halley begins a painful journey of self-discovery. As she searches her heart to make a life-changing decision for both herself and Adam, she realizes that someone is bound to get hurt. Will their perfect love be too great a sacrifice for everything her heart wants?
Read an excerpt from Everything the heart wants
We had a plan.
No one in the history of the world has ever said,“If you work hard enough and believe deeply enough, life will turn out exactly as you planned. You’ll have everything you could ever want and then some.”No one. Ever.
But still. We had a plan. And I expected that plan to go . . . according to plan.
I’ve never been especially fabulous at making decisions, nor particularly confident in the ones I do manage to make, but there are two things of which I am absolutely, positively, without a shadow of a doubt, 100 percent certain. And never in a million years did I imagine that these two ironclad decisions would be at odds with each other. That in what would be the great big novel of Halley Brennan’s life, they were the choices that would make the novel both move forward and come to a screeching halt.
Adam Brennan and I had a plan, and it all started when we first met fifteen years ago during my sophomore year in college, when my good friend Nina invited me to spend Thanksgiving with her family. Nina’s sophisticated, older, and very attractive brother Adam was there, home for the holidays while studying for his MBA. As soon as I laid eyes on the tall, dark-haired, brown-eyed sweetheart with the wide smile that creased his eyes, butterflies were set loose in my stomach. When I watched him set up the new TiVo for his father, and when I saw how he kissed his mother’s cheek hello and goodbye—warm and appreciative gestures I’m sure all mothers wish for from their grown sons—serious crush mode set in.
Adam and I didn’t have our first date until my senior year two years later, but you can be certain that if a plan wasn’t already in the works for our future when we first laid eyes on each other fifteen Thanksgivings ago, there most definitely was one as soon as we broke apart from our first magical kiss on our first magical date.
Finding Adam was like finding a part of myself. It might sound corny or clichéd, but everything about finding Adam felt right. He turned out to be exactly what I’d been looking for, hoping for, planning for. He was the One.
During our first date, Adam and I reminisced about our backpacking trips to Europe—I’d recently returned from a summer abroad in London; he’d also studied abroad as an undergrad, in Edinburgh. On our overseas adventures we’d both kissed the Blarney Stone, taken the Berlin Underworlds air raid shelter tour, spent not one entire day but two in the Louvre, and opted to save a gondola ride in Venice for the next time we’d visit the romantic city, when we wouldn’t be single.
I was an English lit major who had a subscription to the Wall Street Journal and an A in an elective introductory business class I’d taken to break up the Fitzgerald-Whitman-and-Shelley routine. Adam had studied business and marketing as an undergrad, and he devoured anything by John Irving and was unashamedly open about his love for the Little House books. “They make me feel like I’m coming home,”he said.
I hadn’t known I could love something coming out of someone’s mouth as much as I loved that ridiculously endearing comment. That is, until Adam told me those three little words. When he told me he’d found his match, that I was his One.
I was the girl who loved sushi and couldn’t handle hard liquor . . . often making really poor choices under the influence. He was the guy who knew how to make sushi and steered clear of anything harder than beer, wine, or champagne . . . because of an alcoholic uncle. I was the girl who loved to jog and was intimidated by driving any and all LA freeways, despite having grown up in Pasadena. He was the guy who needed a jogging partner and had helped pay for college by couriering—he knew LA like the back of his hand and loved getting behind the wheel.
I was the girl who was interested in serious relationship material, wanted to call LA, or at least Southern California, my home, my Little House, forever, and had aspirations of traveling to Beijing, learning French, and writing a novel. He was the guy who had never been into dating around, had been born and raised in Glendale and had no plans to leave sunny SoCal, and aspired to a life filled with travel, delicious food, and an abundance of love . . . and he liked my novel-writing idea.
As if it were written in the stars, Adam and I were a perfect match. A perfect complement to each other, filling each other’s gaps, each being positive when the other was negative, fitting each other like that proverbial glove.
As soon as I graduated from college, Adam and I moved in together, and our routines and lives melded together effortlessly. Our first place was a small one-bedroom first-floor apartment in a shabbier part of otherwise lovely Pasadena, complete with unreliable water pressure and a chronic ant problem. We shared Adam’s barely-hanging-on Acura he’d had since before there was a we, and we were happy. Blissfully happy. He’d pour me a bowl of cereal while I battled with the showerhead; I’d stick to his travel coffee mug a Post-it with an XO or You sexy thing sentiment scrawled on it while he fought the classic start-the-car battle. It was a beautiful and uncomplicated and true love. In every way possible.
Upon completing his MBA, Adam landed a position at Disney, and after two years he finally began to see the benefits of his long hours and dedication. He was promoted to marketing department team manager. I couldn’t have been more proud. We jetted off for a short but memorable weekend in Sonoma to celebrate.
“You make me feel like home,”I told Adam on the night we returned after our brief getaway up north. We’d come home, left our luggage by the door, opened one of our souvenir bottles of Zinfandel, headed straight for our bedroom, and made love.
“I love you so much, Adam Brennan,”I whispered against his lips, the sheet taut against our entwined legs. “So very much.”
Adam had that charming sparkle in his dark eyes when he said, “You are my home, Miss Halley West.”He kissed the top of my bare shoulder. “I love you. To the moon and back.”
Savannah has kindly offered our readers a free copy of Everything The Heart Wants. Paperback, ebook (Kindle only), or audiobook. The reader has the choice!
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