T Scott Mcleod

Breathless T Scott Mcleod

Publisher Marketing: What Is It That Leaves You Breathless? Moments of beauty; moments of loss. It was funny how both of these things could take your breath away: life's beauty, and life's losses. It was like getting punched in the gut, losing those that you loved. You found yourself on the ground, decimated and wondering if you could ever go on. How could you go on, but how could you not go on? What was the alternative, suicide? That was no alternative for Charlie McAllister, and so he was going on, day by day, moment by moment. The saddest book ever written, that's what his life would be, if he was to put it down into a book. Losing his parents, losing his brothers and sisters, and now losing his wife and his lovely daughters. The grief was immense, almost unbearable, but then Scoop came into his life - a kind and lovely dog which Charlie had scooped up from the road after she'd been hit by a car. Scoop, her name was appropriate, as she was now scooping Charlie back up, living with Charlie and showing Charlie that he could find joy again in life, and love again, too. Life doesn't always move in the ways which you envision, and "Breathless" is no exception. An unexpected friendship between a man and a dog, and a testament to the power of fate and the resilience of the heart to go on, this lyrical and heartfelt story with its surprising and compelling unfurling will show you what it means to find true and lasting love, then leave you as if in the arms of a lover, feeling breathless. Contributor Bio:  McLeod, T Scott I write because of the fragility of our existence. I write because it's my answer to impermanence. I write because it helps me stay connected to my heart. I write because we're all different, and so much the same. I write because the world needs more tenderness. I write because I'm tired of secrets. I write because it's my path to redemption. I write because I've forsaken those that I love. I write because I want to know myself. I write because I want to know you. I write because I'm drawn towards things I shouldn't do. I write because every flower is meant to bloom. I write because life is full of paradoxes. I write because I've had to leave friends behind. I write because it's my form of prayer. I write because, when I write, I lose track of time. I write because I've walked dark streets looking for love. I write because of the way the sublime slips away from words. I write because of the twice shy part of once burned. I write because it helps me learn. I write because there are plenty of people who have written, famous well-published people, literary figures, literary giants, and I didn't like what they wrote. I write because I'm always telling myself stories anyhow. I write because I don't know all of the reasons I write. I write for you. I write. I write. I write.