Dear Reader: A New Era of Life, Love, & Storytelling Begins

SPOILER ALERT: This letter includes spoilers for You Can Always Come Home.

Of all the words I’ve poured onto the pages over the last five years, these might be the hardest to come by and the most important. If you’ve been a reader of mine for a while, you’ve probably already noted a shift in my storytelling over the years.

My first published novel, The Truth About Unspeakable Things, was a bit all over the place if I do say so myself. Was it women’s fiction? Romantic Suspense? Somewhere in between? It was an award-winning combination of all three—a story of heavy-hitting themes women could relate to, with a romance you could root for, and more suspense than most were expecting. When I dove into writing my first novel, I had no plan. I let the words take me where they wanted, which was beautiful, but also left me with no vision for what would come next.

My personal fascination with the Mafia and love of dark romance books led to the Blood and Bourbon series. There are so many things I love about those books. I love the mystery in Mine to Protect, the banter and playfulness in Mine to Tease, and the way Mine to Love offers two broken people the love, family, and second chance they’ve always deserved. Most of all, I love the desperation to love and be loved, to see and be seen, inked on the pages.

“If the world cannot bear witness to our love, then love me in the dark without inhibition.” –Mine to Protect

“I needed to see you happy. Because, if you’re happy, then maybe that would make the pain of losing you more bearable.” –Mine to Tease

“I want to know your darkness. I want to know where it lurks, what it says. I want every memory that haunts you. I want to know it, him, by name.” –Mine to Love

I’m never short of ideas. I am a creative force. I saw so much potential in building my Mafia romance universe. Characters I owed a story still live in my head, but I couldn’t live up to the reader’s expectations for steamy sex and tons of violence. So, I switched it up and found my way to Magnolia, my fictional small town inspired by my own hometown. I absolutely love my Magnolia Blooms duet, even though it still carries traces of my spicy and suspenseful previous work.

“Everyday plants a new seed that every tear waters. I can only hope that one day our seeds of hope bloom into something beautiful.” –You Can Feel It In The Silence

“My past is nothing but the prison for the ghosts who used to haunt me.” –You Can Always Come Home

“Maybe life isn’t about what happens to us—or who couldn’t love us—but how we rewrite the story to make it something beautiful.”—You Can Always Come Home

“Our story doesn’t end with hurt, nor does it glorify those who hurt us. It ends with hope and love.” –You Can Always Come Home

Still, despite my original vision for expanding the Magnolia universe, I’m facing an all-too-familiar spirit check as I conclude my first small-town romance duet. I am proud of these stories, but they—like my previous work—are tied to my wounds. They are more my story than I even realized, and as I try to move beyond my pain, there are some things I need to leave in the past.

I think it’s been difficult for me to find my way as a writer because it’s been difficult for me to find my way as a woman. When I published The Truth About Unspeakable Things, I said it set the tone for my future work as it followed a young woman’s journey through the dangerous pitfalls of adult relationships and the complexities of growing up. Little did I know, I was on that exact journey. And while I am still on that journey—a work in progress as both a woman and a writer—I’ve reached a turning point in my life that I must honor as both a woman and a writer.

As you know, the Magnolia Blooms duet prominently features the theme of coming home. In You Can Feel It In The Silence, April is a woman on the move. She lost her sense of home long ago and doesn’t believe she’ll ever find it again until she does in Magnolia with Emmett. Emmett was forced to return to Magnolia when his younger sister needed him, but his hometown never felt like home until love entered it, until April.

In You Can Always Come Home, Emerson’s home is a war zone, and she dreams only of escaping until Noah makes her feel safe. She discovers home in an unexpected place and face, only to have it ripped away when Noah loses his foundation—his family. Noah’s journey represents the various ways we come back home. Home is not just a physical place or even a person. When we’re broken inside, even our own skin feels like strange territory. That’s something Emerson can relate to as well.

Emerson and Noah’s story is the ultimate tale of coming home—from their return to self, return to each other, Noah’s return to Magnolia, and even return to baseball. Little did I know, their story would be written during and influenced by my own journey back home—back to God.

After growing up in the church and receiving nothing but Bible Belt bruises, I sought freedom the moment I started college. While I won’t detail my full testimony here, I will say that, for me, freedom without God was actually bondage. I was so unprepared to enter the world at eighteen. My unpreparedness—spiritually and otherwise—led to many struggles with relationships: relationship with self, with my parents, romantic relationships, and with God.

I never learned how to have a relationship with God, only fear him. That fear—and condemnation I received—just made me angry, like I was set up to fail, like I’d never be good enough. The last thing I wanted was to go to church or read my Bible, because it only made me feel worse about myself. What brought me back to Him? Being broken one too many times.

In every moment of heartbreak, He’s been right there waiting for me. He’s guided me through my worst moments, even reaching out and saving me when I wasn’t seeking Him. I can look back on my story and find God everywhere, but when did I feel Him most? It was during my divorce that, shattered by heartbreak, I pressed a knife to my wrist. The words that came over me were, “My blood is worth more than this.” They were not my words, but words spoken to me. God pulled me out of the darkness.

I put the knife down, reached out for help, and got into therapy. I’ve been on a healing journey ever since. But it would take nearly four years after that moment with God for me to truly seek Him without ceasing.

Now that I am seeking the Lord without ceasing, my heart is changing, and my spirit is lit with a new mission. I no longer want to write from a place of heartbreak, trauma, and fractured self-worth. I no longer want to write scenes that lead me into temptation (ahem, spicy sex). I no longer want to dance around faith in my books. I want to reclaim romance for myself the same way I’ve reclaimed my faith, my church community, and my relationship with God. I’m ready to enter a new era of life, love, and storytelling.

I’m currently brainstorming ideas for spice-free, faith-influenced romantic fiction and faith-influenced non-fiction for women on a journey like mine. It’s possible some of my fictional stories could be set in Magnolia. It’s even possible we see our Magnolia favorites, like Luke and Beau, take the lead in one of the stories. But regardless of where this calling takes me, the vision of what could be feels more fulfilling than ever.

So, here is to Emma and Julian, Alister and Ariana, Damon and Anastasia, Gio and Darcy, April and Emmett, Emerson and Noah and all the supporting characters that’ve been my vessels of expression during this season of heartache and healing. I love you. I thank you. I honor you. But it’s time I write the next chapter of my story.

Ha! Not me tearing up. They’re like my little children, and I can see them waving goodbye to me. They’re smiling and waving, and I’m crying as I leave them. But every ending is a new beginning. And while my new beginning is catching even me by surprise, I know I’m ready. My latest book—the last book of this heartbreak era—proves it to me.

Emerson wishes she could’ve held on to the life and love that Noah spoke into her, so she didn’t fall victim to the ones who couldn’t love her. But when she felt abandoned by Noah, everything she thought she knew felt like a lie. Similarly, when we feel abandoned by God, we forget His promises, His word—we forget or question who He really is. Maybe, like me, you never really knew Him to start with.

I wish I would’ve known God and who He says I am before I entered the world, before I faced darkness, before I sought love in the wrong places. Knowing my worth in Him would’ve protected me.

Noah is a bright light snuffed out by tragic loss. While we may not all face the same tragedy as he did, we all face our own demons. A lot of times, like Noah, when we think we’ve lost ourselves or are no good or aren’t worthy of forgiveness, we hide in shame. We refuse to return home, or to God. But like Emerson says, “My trust and forgiveness aren’t yours to earn. They’re mine to give.” We don’t have to earn God’s forgiveness. He gives it to us willingly if we seek Him, because He loves us.

As someone who has struggled to feel God’s love, I understand if that’s hard to believe. In the weeks prior to writing this letter—yes, that recent—I realized I’d been struggling to believe that God wants good things for me. I blamed God for my pain. I thought He was doing nothing but testing me, not protecting me. And as a romance writer—as a woman—who has always dreamed of her own love story, the single season has felt like a curse. I’ve questioned if it’s actually a season or if I am destined to be alone forever, if I’ll ever have a chance at healthy love.

The thought of giving up hope for love, like Emerson had before Noah’s return, was the most discouraging thing for me. It left me angry, hopeless, and fearful of how I might give in to my misery. The truth I’m clinging to now is revealed in the final sentiments of this book: “Our story doesn’t end with hurt, nor does it glorify those who hurt us. It ends with hope and love. What happens after heartbreak? Happily ever after.”

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Would you believe me if I told you that none of this was planned? I didn’t write You Can Always Come Home intending for it to have influences from my faith journey. Nope. This was always Emerson and Noah’s story until it became mine.

Am I worried I won’t be able to live up to my own intentions? Yes. Will making changes in my storytelling be difficult? Probably. Even more so… Just because the Lord has restored my hope in this moment doesn’t mean I’ll never feel hopeless again. Just because I’m choosing to trust Him, doesn’t mean I’ll never doubt again. But we aren’t called to be perfect. We are called to trust Him and seek Him. We are called to come home.

When Emerson says she can’t promise not to hurt herself again, that scene felt so real to me, and it’s another ministry message worth mentioning as I close. She says, “Promise me you won’t be mad if I fail. Promise me you’ll never run out of patience, kind words, gentleness—love—for me.”

It may seem hard to believe, but God won’t run out of love or patience for you—even when the world does. God still loves you when you fail. In fact, to Him, our failures aren’t failures at all. They’re where and when He does His best work, just like the trauma my characters experience—the trauma I’ve experienced—is what sets them up for their greatest redemptive arcs.

“Mistakes. Maybe our life isn’t defined by the mistakes we make, but by the people our past equips us to help.” Sometimes I look at the books I’ve written, and I wish I could erase them, along with the lost years of my life. But our past is exactly what God uses to create purpose in our present and future. So, I claim those titles and every part of my story, because they’re what got me here. And I couldn’t go where God is leading me—I couldn’t step into this new calling—without the preparation of my past.

Thank you for guiding me home, Lord. And thank you to my readers, who have supported me over the past five years. I understand if you don’t follow me into this new chapter. I still love you. For those who do, thank you. I’m excited to bring you new stories of love and hope. Although this time maybe instead of tragically beautiful they’ll just be beautiful.

With Love,

Emily A. Myers