My story is not my own, it’s ours.
Mine and Vaughan’s.
Except I can’t remember it.
And then the dreams started.
Vivid, and bold, filled with a face I didn’t know.
But he was always there.
In my head. In my heart.
And when I decided to put pen to paper, I found him whispering, “Come back to me.”
Some stories are meant to be rewritten.
Others are meant to be relived.
One of Ten Direct to Kindle copies for Come Back To Me
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