Until said hottie is abruptly sent back to earth.
No sweat, right?
EW can exclusively reveal the cover forThe Love of My Afterlifebelow, as well as share an exclusive excerpt.
‘The Love of My Afterlife’ author Kirsty Greenwood.
Additionally, we asked Greenwood some questions over email to get more details behind the novel and her inspiration.
Read her answers below, followed by the except.
Would you call this the ultimate second chance romance?
Cornerstone
Our heroine has a time limit on getting this to work.
What appealed to you about giving her a deadline?
Her life literally depends on it!
So often it takes drastic measures for us to see the ways in which we need to change.
How would you live if you knew you were likely to die in ten days?
Would you be braver?
Would you say the things you were always too scared to say?
Would you lean into the parts of you that you always kept hidden for fear of embarrassment?
How far would you go to find love if it was your very last chance to experience it?
I found it thrilling to explore these themes!
What do you hope whoever greets you in the waiting room says?
They serve bottomless apple pie here.
Excerpt from ‘The Love of My Afterlife’ by Kristy Greenwood
Dead, huh?
he grimaces, reminding us both of the s— circumstances in which we find ourselves.
My shoulders slump again.
It had been a relief to forget reality for a couple of minutes.
Dead, I repeat gently.
I had so many plans this August.
What a gutter to miss London during the summer.
It really is something magical, he bites his objectively juicy looking bottom lip.
The best city on earth.
I think of the chewy smog that feels unbearable when its warmed up in rush hour.
I glance down at the mans tanned hands on my arms.
It feels quite lovely, his skin on my skin.
It feels… pleasing.
Steady and soft and sensual all at the same time.
Like a warm bubble bath on a brittle February day.
I didnt realise I was totally grabbing you.
Promise Im not a perv.
I tuck my hair behind my ears and giggle.
I dont think Ive giggled since two thousand and eleven.
This is strange, his eyes narrow.
And it probably sounds totally like alinebut…
I… feel like Ive met you before.
Like I know you…Does that sound nuts?
It does, right?
I nod quickly because I realise I feel the exact same way.
I mean, I know Ive never met this man before.
Its like this man knows me.
Like he already knows all my foibles and bad habits and stressy thoughts and he couldnt give a hoot.
Like he likes me despite, wellme.
Like Ive been missing him my whole life.
Its a strange feeling.
My eyes scan his face.
The mans gaze runs over my face and lingers on my lips for a moment.
Everything surrounding me fades in comparison to the brightness of his presence.
Who the hellisthis man?
He laughs self-consciously and runs a hand across his jaw.
So, er, do you come here often?
He leans against the wall and does a silly over-the-top face.
I grin, once more forgetting where I am or that I am, in fact, dead.
This beautiful stranger is looking at me like no-one has ever looked at me my entire life.
Like Im fascinating and pretty, and not in any way a loser.
Too young to die.
At least well always be hot, I guess?
He thinks Im hot.
With my hair one day past acceptably unwashed and my weird nightdress.
What is happening right now?
Preserved, I murmur.
He laughs out loud.
He takes a step closer to me, his voice suddenly low and intimate.
Tell me your name.
I notice that his pupils are almost fully dilated.
I think this is chemistry!
This is what it feels like to have instant chemistry with someone.
My name is Delphie.
Its good to meet you, Delphie Bookham.
He holds out his hand and I take it.
But we dont shake.
We just hold hands.
she says through a gritted sort of smile, wide eyes blinking rapidly.
his voice breaks a little with shock at the interruption.
He clears his throat and tries again.
He is no longer relaxed.
His face has turned a ghostly white colour.
Yeah, Merritt blows the air out through her cheeks.
So good news as it turns out!
You are not actually dead, Jonah.
Thing is, youre just what we term an unconscious visitor.
Our systems can get a bit screwy and deliver us people who are not ready to be here.
Her eyes snag on the fax in her hand.
Not for a very long time as it happens.
I look down at my hand, the one that was just holding his.
No, no no!
I think I might have just met the only person I was ever truly supposed to meet.
And now hes gone.
From THE LOVE OF MY AFTERLIFE published by arrangement with Berkley, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC.
Copyright 2023 by Kirsty Greenwood.
