Elizabeth Gilbert in her fabulous book, Big Magic, says that the story seeks the writer whose job is to bring it into existence. This was absolutely the case with Love Imperfect. I had just finished a YA novel and delivered into the hands of my editor. My immediate plans were to clean up the office which always disintegrates in chaos in the last stages of completing a novel and give my brain a break. Instead, I woke up to Mya and Colton peering over the end of my bed. Going about the morning chores, I realized I knew their story and they were very insistent it be pulled out of the ether and digitized. I begged enough time to clear out my previous book and then dove into their tale. Summer turned to fall. Gardens were harvested, winter hay was stacked, wood cut, and all manner of seasonal farm work addressed, much of it by rote as my ear was always turned towards them. Finally, I typed “The End” minutes before pulling the Thanksgiving Day pies out of the oven. The couple still had a lot of future ahead of them, but my part in it was done. Love Imperfect was written in a ramshackle farm house in the Cascade foothills of Oregon where it sits hard on a back country road overrun with log trucks and livestock trailers. Inside an office tucked under dormers, this author has written four novels, including the award winning YA, Aging Out. Learn more at www.bohobooks.com