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Book Details
Some stories explore how grief lives quietly inside us—and how love can return in the most unexpected ways.
In The Next Breath, Robin is still grieving the man who once told her “permanent doesn’t exist”—and then died, leaving her in pieces. Ten years later, she meets Nick, who makes her laugh, challenges her, and gives her a glimpse of happiness she thought she’d lost forever. But Robin has agreed to perform in the play her late partner Jed wrote for her before his death, and with each rehearsal, old emotions resurface. As she tries to move forward with Nick, the past pulls her back in ways she hasn’t fully reckoned with. A deeply moving exploration of memory, love, and the way stories linger in our hearts, The Next Breath is a quiet, romantic novel about choosing to live again.
Story Excerpt
Jed stood on the porch, alternately breathing and coughing. He didn’t have a beer, just a
bottle of water that rested against the railing. I stood next to him. “Hey. What are you doing out
here all by yourself?”
“Too smoky in there. I need a break.”
“Yeah…” It was a cool night; fall was resigning to winter. Hugging myself, I pulled on
the sleeves of my belted sweater, worn over a black t-shirt and stretch pants. My beatnik look.
“What’d you think of the play?”
He coughed so he could speak. “You were brilliant.”
“Right.”
“No, really.”
“I’m pretty much the scenery, Jed.”
He shook his head. “That’s not true. During Jacques’ ‘All the world’s a stage’ speech you
have this great look on your face. I love how you respond to him.”
“Why?”
Jed yanked the strings of his grey hoodie, which was attached to a denim jacket.
“Because that speech is a load of crap. Your face rescues the entire scene.”
“It’s a load of crap?” I searched his watery eyes, for a sign that he was joking, but his
face held firm. “It’s one of Shakespeare’s most famous speeches.”
“Yeah, and it makes this assumption that everyone’s life is the same. That we’re all male,
we’ll all live to be old, and we all experience the same stuff at the same time.” Jed cleared his
throat and up came indignation. “People are more unique than that.”
I shivered. Time to tread lightly. “Well, sure. But some of what we experience is
universal, isn’t it? We all have our exits and our entrances, and we all play many different parts.”
“Some of us get more parts than others.” He coughed again, so hard that my own chest
tightened.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“That makes you the first.” He coughed again, a mad, racking sound that echoed in the
night. “People always have something to say.” Jed squeezed his eyes shut with a wince. “Sorry. I
try to be more than just my illness. I don’t want CF to be the most fascinating thing about me.”
“It’s not.”
His voice was flat “Oh yeah? Then what is?” He looked me straight in the eye, daring me
to answer.
I blew out a steady stream of air. “Your attitude. You’re not afraid of anything, you find
almost everything interesting, and I’ve never met anyone less shy than you.” I gripped the porch
railing and stared at my cold fingers. “If you were a boat, you’d never be tied to the harbor.”
“If I was a boat, I’d sink.” He hacked and took a swig of water. The night air was static,
but we could hear the boisterous party noise coming from inside. I put my hand on his shoulder
and he turned towards my touch.
“Wanna know a secret?” He whispered. “I’m just an actor, like everyone else.” Then he
closed his eyes,and when he opened them I thought I saw longing. Like the beginning of a
tsunami.
“All the world’s a stage, right?”
Jed tilted his head. “Yeah.”
We hovered for a moment, moving towards each other. When our lips met, his mouth
was soft, inviting, and powerful enough to make my toes curl. He let out a little sigh, like he was
relieved to be kissing me, but before I could wrap my arms around his shoulders, he stepped
away.
“No,” he said. “This is a bad idea.”
“Why?” I tried to sound jokey, light. “You’ll sleep with anything that moves.”
He matched my tone. “That’s not true. I’ll only sleep with human females, in my age
range, and attractive.”
“Don’t I fit that requirement?”
He looked me up and down, his nostrils flaring. “Yeah, of course you do.”
“Then why?”
Jed stepped back again, making new space between us. “I just think we’re better off as
friends.”
I squared my shoulders to pretend I wasn’t wounded. “If it’s because you think you’ll
corrupt me, don’t worry. I’m not a virgin.”
“Okay.” He raised his hands in defeat and kept his voice steady, like I’d bite him if he
wasn’t careful. “Look, I’m not in a relationshipy place right now; I can’t be, with all my health
issues. If we were together, you’d have high expectations because that’s how you are.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I see you, Robin. You don’t hide or lower your standards. I like that about you, but it
also makes us bad for each other.” Lines crumpled his forehead as he held my gaze. “Tell me I’m
wrong.”
I leaned against the side of the house. How had I gotten to this point, practically begging
Jed to have sex with me? I was a pathetic cliché.
“No, you’re right.” I forced out a weird, strained laugh. “We’d regret it, you and me…” I
tilted my head towards the stars and groaned. “Never mind. Delete the last couple of minutes
from your memory.”
I turned to go inside.
“Robin…” He grabbed my arm and I let him pull me towards him. The yearning on his
face told a different story to the one he’d just recited. I put my hand at the base of his neck, but
withdrew my fingers in shock.
“Oh my God. You’re burning up.” His forehead was clammy and hot and not the way a
healthy forehead should be.
He ducked from my touch. “I’m fine,” he growled.
“No you’re not.”
He started to hack. “Just tired.”
“Can I help you get home?”
“I don’t need your help. And I’m not ready to leave yet.”
He slammed the door as he went back into the party.
Author Details
Laurel Osterkamp is the author of several novels including The Side Project, Favorite Daughters, and the Amazon bestseller Beautiful Little Furies. Her stories focus on resilient women, complicated relationships, and the ways our past shapes our path forward. When not writing, Laurel teaches middle school enrichment and adult ESL, rewatches nostalgic TV with her daughter, and tries to keep the peace between a houseful of opinionated pets. She lives in Minneapolis and shares updates, extras, and writing insights at laurellit.com and Instagram.
Amazon: https://amzn.to/4fGCcwv
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/212336698-the-next-breath
