Sneak Peek: Finally, Forever by Katie Kacvinsky

With her books First Comes Love and Second Chance author Katie Kacvinsky has given readers two memorable characters in contemporary fiction: Gray and Dylan  I was hooked by their story by the very first line. "Out of the corner of my eye, I'm watching a girl." Theirs isn't a perfect love story but it is one that has captured my heart and hasn't let go. If you want to know just why I loved First Comes Love, you can read my review here.

I am beyond thrilled to be share a sneak peek of Finally, Forever, the last book of the series. The release date of Finally, Forever isn't available just yet, but like all good things, I just know it will be worth the wait. 

From Katie Kacvinsky:

Here is a short clip from Finally, Forever, the last book in the First Comes Love series. If I had to sum up Finally, Forever in one word it would be: comedy.  Whether writers will admit to it or not, events and situations in their own lives bleed into their stories. I’m at a point in my life where I just want to laugh. I want to relax. I want to take time to appreciate the people around me who love me and who help me to shine, because man, without those people I would shrivel. I would be weak. I would break apart. Love is what makes us strong.

Here is the excerpt. Enjoy, and keep up with me on twitter (@KatieKacvinsky) to find out more about the release date.

From Finally, Forever:

Dylan scoots into a booth and I almost slip in right next to her, until I remember she isn’t mine and I have a pretend girlfriend and Dylan has an over-achieving, smart, outdoorsy boyfriend that could model for a Patagonia catalogue with all his stupid dogs. I hope they get married and own a dog shelter together and start a reality show about their stupid, charitable, perfect life.

For some reason, I feel the pathetic need to annoy Dylan, because her presence is sexually annoying the crap out of me. I had a hard-on three times last night, and I woke up with one. It’s like a headache in my pants.

Dylan opens her menu and I open mine and the waitress comes up and asks if we’re ready to order.  I clear my throat.

“I have a question,” I speak up, and pin my eyes directly on Dylan’s.  “I was wondering which was moister,” I say moister slowly and delicately, giving every consonant and vowel careful annunciation. “The cinnamon rolls, or the muffins?” I finish.

Dylan scrunches her nose like she smells something foul. When we first met she told me what her three least favorite words were. Her long term memory sucks, but mine is prolific. It’s one of my weaknesses. I remember everything. The challenge is to try and forget.   

I look away from Dylan and smile at the waitress, an elderly woman who appears to have more red lipstick on her teeth than her lips. She chews on the end of her pen while she considers my question.

“By moister, you mean?”

“I mean exactly that,” I say. “Moist, as in having a spongy, porous texture saturated in pockets of moisture.”

Dylan covers her mouth with one hand like she’s about to gag. She takes a long breath and blows it out slowly to stay calm.
“Ah-huh,” the waitress mumbles. “The homemade raspberry muffins are popular,” she offers.

“Great,” I say. “I’ll have one.”

I smile at Dylan’s frown. This is going to be fun. Hey, if I have to be mentally, emotionally, and sexually tortured by her presence, then the least I can do is return the torture. I’m mature like that.

Dylan orders coffee and when the waitress walks away, she narrows her eyes. “Is it torture-Dylan day?” she asks and my smile widens. “I hate the m-word. Passionately hate.”

“I know,” I tell her. “You hate the words moist, protoplasm and membrane.”

She sets down her menu. “How do you know that?” she asks, her eyes suspicious, as if I was reading her diary.

“You told me,” I remind her. “When we first met.”

She blinks with surprise. “I don’t remember saying that.”

I shrug. “I do.”

“What else do you remember?” she asks.

I stare at her. “Everything. It’s my curse,” I say.

“Wow,” she says. “I have a tough time remembering anything. Names. Places. Dates. I barely passed freshman history.”

Must be nice. “That’s probably why you take so many pictures,” I tell her. “It’s your way of remembering.”

She smiles at me, a Dylan smile that’s part lips and part laugh and it always catches the corners of my lips and pulls them up. Even when I fight to hold them down.  

About the Author

Katie Kacvinsky with Grass Roots store manager

Katie Kacvinsky is a young adult and new adult fiction writer. Her books have been nominated for YALSA awards and First Comes Love was a finalist for the Oregon Book Award. She currently lives in Madison, Wisconsin.

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