Jasinda Wilder 
When my husband Oliver died, my life ended. My purpose, my passion, my everything bled out with him on the side of the Pacific Coast Highway.<br /><br /> Ollie was an organ donor. His eyes, his brain, his lungs, his of my Ollie went out and saved lives.<br /><br /> Then his heart, beating in another man's chest, found its way back to me, and I found myself faced with an impossible choice: hold on to the pain and beauty of the past and the memory of the man I loved, or reach for a bold new future, knowing each heartbeat will be a reminder of all I've lost.<br /><br /> * &#xa0; * &#xa0; *<br /><br /> I wasn't supposed to live past thirty.<br /><br /> My grandfather died at forty-five. Heart failure.<br /><br /> My father died at thirty-eight. Heart failure.<br /><br /> The doctors told me my whole life that I wouldn't see my thirty-first birthday. My heart was going to give out. It was just a matter of time: a rare blood type and an unusually large heart meant essentially zero chance of a transplant.<br /><br /> I proved them all dying on my thirty-first birthday.<br /><br /> And then I woke up, alive, with another man's heart inside my chest, and his widow on my conscience.<br /><br /> I spent my whole life preparing for death, and now I have to learn how to live. Only,&#xa0;as I soon discovered, living is the easy part.<br /><br /> Loving, and allowing myself to be loved...well, that's a whole lot harder.
Contemporary  Books  Romance 
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