This book is one of my top five reads of the year. For any of you who are familiar with Claire Kingsley and her other series, you know that she is a fantastic writer. Her Book Boyfriend series will make you alternately swoon and chuckle. The Always series brings the bad boys, the dirty talking and the angst. Jetty Beach will have you sighing and feeling. They are all tremendous.
His Heart is like nothing Ms. Kingsley has written ever before. When I finished the book, I was sobbing. And I have tears running down my cheeks as I write this review. His Heart is wonderful. Truly. A compelling story. Honestly, it’s unlike anything ever written before by any author that I have ever read. And so this review, my review, will be unlike anything I have ever written before, as well.
One side of the story is that of first love- that funny and awkward teenage thing that, in those rare cases, blossoms into something real, and meaningful that you know could stand the test of time. The story that runs parallel is one sharply less full of light and hope- a boy, on the cusp on adulthood, facing a twist that no teen, nor the parents of one, would ever in a million years see coming. And these stories, they run their courses, side by side, for just long enough to have you questioning what the author is doing. You invest yourself. In both. And alternately smile, and then worry, at the antics and pure love of the young couple, and for the boy who grows increasingly weaker. But still you turn the pages.
And then it comes. That moment. When you curse the author’s name. And you want to give it up. Because, no, that’s not right. That’s not how romance works you want to scream. And for a few beats, you are uncertain if you can turn any more pages. Because your heart is breaking. Into little pieces that fall on the floor and soak up the tears streaming down your face. And you don’t think that you like this story, or the author, very much right now. You walk away for a short time, but then return, knowing that this author would not lead you astray. So you trust her. And you open the pages once more. And then your heart breaks. Just a little bit more, and then more again. Until you truly think that there are no in tact pieces left within your chest. And that’s when it happens. Slowly. Very slowly. The pieces start to drift back together. The seams where the pieces are re-glued are visible. The scars apparent. But they all, eventually, come back together. And you breathe, shakily, but deeply, for the first time in hours. Because although your heart is once again whole, it is changed, and you realize the impact of that. Because the change gives you an entirely new perspective- on the fragility of life, and on the depth of love. And only an unbelievably amazing piece of writing crafted by an undeniably talented writer can offer that.
This is that book. And Claire Kingsley is that author.