I died every night. And learned to live forever. Dreams were important, because those told you your past lives. And like the old guy said somewhere, if you didn't learn from your past, you were just condemned to repeat it. I wanted to live each day to my fullest. Because I knew it was over when I closed my eyes to sleep. Each day, I had to learn everything all over again. Because I wanted to make each day last, to do something with my life, to have some satisfaction. To find love became my final goal. Somehow, it's escaped me most of my life. When she finally found me, we both were now writers. Before long, there was something else between us, a romantic mystery that had to be solved. Together, our combined genius might be able to solve it. Maybe. Is it true that ""To deeply love is to laugh at death.""? Get Your Copy Now.