Welcome to the Blog Tour for Keep Me Afloat by Jennifer Gold, hosted by Comet Readings Book Tours!
ABOUT THE BOOK
Publication date: March 3, 2020
Paperback: 381 pages
Publisher: Lake Union Publishing
A moving story about true love and heartbreak, mistakes and redemption, forgiveness and second chances.
Five years ago, marine biologist Abby Fisher made a mistake that cost her everything. Rather than face the consequences, she fled home to start anew—and built the career she’d always dreamed of. But when her research program runs out of funding, she’s adrift once again and decides to return to the safe harbor of her family and friends.
Except nothing at home is how she remembered.
Her friendships are strained, her normally affectionate parents seem distant, and her once-great love story is now just a painful memory. What’s worse, she keeps running into the people she hurt years ago—and they aren’t ready to forgive her.
Abby is determined to atone for her mistakes, but she can’t seem to move beyond her guilt for a chance of future happiness. Can Abby learn to sail through the storm, or will she remain lost at sea?
Poignant and heartfelt, Keep Me Afloat asks the question: How can you expect forgiveness from others if you can’t even forgive yourself?
“Achingly beautiful and emotionally rich, Keep Me Afloat explores the heartache of stifling self to put family first. When a marine biologist—broke, jobless, alone—drifts home with a U-Haul of guilt, her past and present merge to reveal her truth in unexpected ways. A stunning novel of love, redemption, and whales.” —Barbara Claypole White, bestselling author of The Perfect Son and The Promise Between Us
“Keep Me Afloat is a rich ebb and flow of human emotion, offering an intimate look at a young marine biologist’s journey to finding herself. Set against the extraordinary backdrop of the Pacific Northwest coastline, this engaging story will leave readers buoyant with hope.” —Nicole Meier, author of The Second Chance Supper Club
About the Author
Jennifer Gold writes book club fiction about the relationships of real, flawed women — love, past mistakes, redemption, and all the stuff in between. Critics at Booklisthave called her characters“multifaceted” and her storylines“compelling” and “bittersweet.”Jenni is a travel-obsessed romantic and ambivert.
When she’s not writing, you can find her sipping coffee, enjoying the outdoors, or curled up with a book. She loves nature documentaries and realistic hopefully-ever-afters. Jenni lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and two cats.
Jennifer Gold has been on the board of the Pacific Northwest Writer’s Association for over a decade. She has a master’s degree in creative writing and instruction. She has given keynotes, lectures, and presentations at various venues, from intimate groups to major conferences. She’s available to speak at bookstores, readers’ groups, and libraries, as well as on the radio and podcasts. If you’re interested in listening to past interviews or other audio samples, please contact her directly.
I met Dennis, my once husband, the love of my life, by accident—a car accident eighteen years ago.
Tonight, I’m following the winding, wooded 104 highway, familiar like a childhood memory. My U-Haul’s high beams cast the bordering trees in a golden lick of light, elongating the roadside shadows. I watch for deer, raccoons, coyotes. How quickly could I stop if something jumped out of the forest? I probably couldn’t stop at all, and the truck would just barrel into the unsuspecting nocturnal body, practically unhindered—or I’d swerve into the embankment, a skid mark made permanent on the faded blacktop.
It’s not hard to imagine. I draw on my own experience, that moment of impact and the ringing that happens in your ears when you smack your head against car window glass. It’s one of those things I can’t help but picture, a nagging feeling of dread tucked between my ribs for another mile or two. I haven’t seen Dennis in four and a half years, but I can picture him as easily as I can picture veering off this road into the night.
But before anything tragic like that can happen, branches open up to a velvet sky, and pavement turns into the grated deck of the Hood Canal floating bridge. I crack my window, breathing in the cleansing scent of salt water. A beam of moonlight glitters frigidly on the black expanse; the whitecaps are waltzing. The snow-dusted silhouettes of the Olympic Mountains to the west are crowned with stars. It’s early February, and the trees on the other side of the bridge sparkle with frost. I take a sip of the coffee I bought back in Tacoma, a gas station brew that’s as weak and watered down as I feel.