BREATHE, ANNIE, BREATHE

BREATHE, ANNIE, BREATHE - Part 1

From the bestselling author of Catching Jordan comes a brand new contemporary YA you won't forget.

The finish line is only the beginning...

Annie hates running. No matter how far she jogs, she can't escape the guilt that if she hadn't broken up with Kyle, he might still be alive. So to honor his memory, she starts preparing for the marathon he intended to race.

But the training is even more grueling than Annie could have imagined. Despite her coaching, she's at war with her body, her mind-and her heart. With every mile that athletic Jeremiah cheers her on, she grows more conflicted. She wants to run into his arms...and sprint in the opposite direction. For Annie, opening up to love again may be even more of a challenge than crossing the finish line.

"Breathe, Annie, Breathe is an emotional, heartfelt, and beautiful story about finding yourself after loss and learning to love. It gave me so many feels. Her best book yet." — Jennifer L. Armentrout, New York Times bestselling author of Wait for You

Author's Note:

My next book, BREATHE, ANNIE, BREATHE releases on July 15, so I wanted to share a sample with you all. I'll update it again as we get closer to release! Hope you enjoy it. 

Today’s Distance: 5 Miles - Six Months Until the Country Music Marathon

As a kid, I had the worst mile time ever.

Our gym teacher made us run the mile a few times a year for something called the Presidential Fitness Test. I’d huff and puff and wonder why the hell President Bush cared how fast I could run laps around the playground. I always came in dead last.

Most of the boys could run a mile in eight or nine minutes. The girls usually came in around ten. And there I was, scooting in at over thirteen minutes. Truth be told, running bored the hell out of me. I’d rather have been doing word problems.

Today, I’m running five miles along the Little Duck River. If I finish, this will be the farthest I’ve ever run. I know I’ll finish—-there’s no way I can give up.

Because I’m doing this for him.

At mile 3.5, my running coach rides up next to me on his bike. Matt Brown is twenty--four and owns a program that trains people to run marathons. Some people on my team are running because it’s a lifelong dream, some want to lose weight, and the others, like me, haven’t told anyone why they’re doing this.

“How’s it goin’, Annie?” Matt asks.

“Oo--kkay.” Great. The lack of air is making me stutter. I can’t breathe.

“You’re Jordan’s friend, right?”

If you consider the school’s new football coach my friend. “She s--signed me up for your program, y--yeah.”

He hops off his bike and pushes it along beside me. I can’t believe he walks as fast as I run. “You need anything? Water? Tylenol? Vaseline?”

“Vaseline? ”

He shrugs. “Yeah, for chafing. Are you having any issues?”

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine a man would ask if I’m chafing. “No, thanks.”

I shuffle, one foot after the other, trying to run like Matt taught me at the beginning of today’s session. Keep my toes facing forward. Move my arms back and forth. Breathe in through my nose, out through my mouth. Pain pierces my side.