Back To 1987 – Cynthia Luhrs

Before Vietnam. Before the telegram. Before Danny became a photograph on a bookshelf instead of a person who threw a kid in the air and taught him to catch a ball. “What did you do?” “Fed the ducks, mostly. He’d buy stale bread from the bakery on Charles Street. They sold it cheap, day-old stuff, and we’d throw chunks until the whole flock came running.”

Jack smiled, and it was the kind of smile that had history behind it. “He told me once that the secret was to throw the small pieces first. Get their attention. Make them want more.” “Good advice.” “Danny had a lot of good advice. I didn’t understand most of it until he was gone.”

We walked in silence for a while after that, and he seemed to understand that sometimes the best response to grief was simply to stand beside it. By the time we reached the café on Newbury Street, my fingers were numb and my nose was running, and I’d never been happier to see a door with a fogged-up window and the promise of warmth inside.

The café was small and cluttered, the kind of place that would be called “artisanal” in 2014 and charged triple. Now it was just a coffee shop with good hot chocolate and a radiator that worked overtime. Jack ordered two hot chocolates while I claimed a table by the window, the glass thick with condensation, the street outside reduced to impressionist blurs. “So,” he said, settling into the chair across from me. “Tell me something.” “Something like what?” “Something I don’t know.

Something surprising.” I thought about it. There were a lot of things he didn’t know. A whole lifetime he couldn’t even imagine, and most of them I couldn’t tell him. The rules of the magic, if you could call them rules, seemed to prohibit the obvious cheats. No lottery numbers, no stock tips, no dire warnings about the future that would make me sound insane.

But there were other things. True things. Things I’d never told anyone because the old me had been too scared. “My mother left when I was twelve,” I said. “Just… disappeared one day. No warning, no explanation. She sent birthday cards for a few years and then stopped. I haven’t heard from her since I was sixteen.”

Jack’s face didn’t change, but something shifted in his eyes.

This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. All rights to reproduction of this work are reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without prior written permission from the copyright owner.

Thank you for respecting the copyright. Copyright © 2026 by Cynthia Luhrs All rights reserved. 1kitap1.com/en About the Author Cynthia Luhrs spends her time out on the deck, looking at the mountains and imagining what if. Her rescued tiger cats like to disrupt her writing by sitting on the keyboard and demanding to be let in and out hundreds of times a day.

She is overly fond of sparkly flip flops, books, and tea served in antique teacups. She writes women’s fiction, contemporary romance, medieval time travel, Scottish time travel, small town fiction, romantasy, and heart-pounding thrillers. Keep up with her on her website 1kitap1.com/en Introduction If I’d Known Then What if you could go back—not to fix the world, but to fight for the love you let go?

In this emotionally charged time travel romance series, women at the crossroads of midlife wake up in the bodies they once had—with thirteen days to rewrite the moment that changed everything. It’s the 1980s again. The choices haven’t been made yet. And the men they walked away from are still there—still wanting them, still waiting for an answer that never came. But going back comes with a price: stay, and lose the future you already lived.

Leave, and lose him forever. Thirteen days. One second chance. A love worth risking everything for. Each standalone novel follows a different woman given an impossible choice—and the man who never stopped being the right one. Closed-door time travel romance about regret, courage, and discovering that the life you were meant for was always one brave choice away. What if you could go back—not to fix your life, but to fight for the love you walked away from?

On Valentine’s Day, Maggie Shaw is fifty years old, successful, and alone. Twenty-seven years ago, she made the safe choice. She left a man who loved her. And spent a lifetime wondering what might have been. Then she wakes up in 1987. The music is loud. The coffee is terrible. Phones have cords, and when they ring, you answer without knowing who’s on the other end.

Maggie is twenty-three again, living in a world of mixtapes, newspaper deadlines, shoulder pads, and waiting by the phone. And Jack Cavanaugh is still there. Brilliant, stubborn, heartbreakingly real. She has thirteen days until Valentine’s Day. Thirteen days before the dinner where she once walked away and broke his heart.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: b9e61236e5f6d0da
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 3,048,118 bytes (2.907 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• Pages: 172
• Language: English (en)

Reading & Word Statistics

• Estimated Reading Time: 262.79 minutes
• Total Words: 52,558
• Total Characters: 295,948
• Average Words per Page: 305.57
• Average Characters per Page: 1720.63

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