To Sarah Davies, who let me persuade her to plant me—and Ruby Rose—in her Greenhouse, where we always belonged. She is, quite simply, my dream agent.
To Erin Summerill and Peggy Eddleman, my two writing partners and best friends, who’ve read all the crap I’ve ever written and still like me. Or at least pretend to really well.
To Sarah Donovan for being there from the start. To Emily King for keeping me from quitting. To Elana Johnson for guiding the way. To Angie Cothran, Chantele Sedgwick, Katie Dodge, Ruth Josse, Kim Krey, and Taffy Lovell for all the critiques, fun writing retreats, and never-ending support.
To my parents, who call me “spirited” when they really mean “sassy,” and who are never surprised by my success. To my siblings, John, Michelle, Julie, Chris, and Jeff, who have put up with me all these years…and hardly ever call me a B-word to my face.
To my Mr. Humphries, my best friend and leading man, for letting me be “yellow” and reminding me not to let “my dreams be dreams.” Je t’aime. Finally, to my kids, who are Brave, Brilliant, Big-time, and Beautiful. In that order. You are my favorite B-words.