When she died, Christine O'Gara left behind a fragile, fractured family--estranged, embittered and at odds over custody of her only child. But in time, they'll see that Christine's legacy is strong enough to finally give a young girl the father she deserves.
Cora, Christine's mother--No stranger to loss, she's desperate to do right by her daughter and she'll fight with everything she's got.
Lexie, Christine's daughter--Torn between grief and rage at the thought of living with the man who abandoned them, she's planning revenge.
Alex, Christine's ex-husband--Never truly believed in his own worth...or understood what Christine saw in him. He'd tried to return to her, but he'd been turned away. Only now can he come back and prove Christine right.
We can't choose our family.
We can learn to deserve the love we crave from them.
Lynne Hugo is an American author whose roots are in the northeast. She lives with her husband, the academic vice president of a liberal arts college, in the Midwest. They have two grown children, two grandchildren, and a chocolate Labrador retriever. A National Endowment For The Arts Fellowship recipient, she has also received repeat individual artists grants from the Kentucky Foundation for Women and the Ohio Arts Council. Her publications include five novels, one volume of creative non-fiction, two books of poetry and a children's book.
Ms. Hugo has taught creative writing to hundreds of schoolchildren through the Ohio Arts Council's renowned Arts in Education program. She holds a Bachelor's degree from Connecticut College, and a Master's from Miami University.
When an editor asked her to describe herself as a writer, she responded:
"I write in black Wal-Mart capri sweatpants. They don't start out as capris, but I routinely shrink them in the drier by accident. And I always buy black because it doesn't show where I've wiped the chocolate off my hands. Now that my son and daughter are grown, my previous high grade of 'below average' in Domestic Achievement has dropped somewhat. But I'm less guilty about it now. I lose myself in crafting language by a window with birdfeeders hanging in the branches of a Chinese elm towering over the house. When I come up for air, I hike by the ponds and along the river in a nearby forest with my beloved Lab. My husband, with whom I planted that elm as a bare root sapling, joins us when he can."
