{"id":253626,"date":"2026-07-13T02:56:14","date_gmt":"2026-07-12T23:56:14","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/back-to-1987-cynthia-luhrs\/"},"modified":"2026-07-13T02:56:14","modified_gmt":"2026-07-12T23:56:14","slug":"back-to-1987-cynthia-luhrs","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/back-to-1987-cynthia-luhrs\/","title":{"rendered":"Back To 1987 – Cynthia Luhrs"},"content":{"rendered":"
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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. \u201cWhat did you do?\u201d \u201cFed the ducks, mostly. He\u2019d buy stale bread from the bakery on Charles Street. They sold it cheap, day-old stuff, and we\u2019d throw chunks until the whole flock came running.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jack smiled, and it was the kind of smile that had history behind it. \u201cHe told me once that the secret was to throw the small pieces first. Get their attention. Make them want more.\u201d \u201cGood advice.\u201d \u201cDanny had a lot of good advice. I didn\u2019t understand most of it until he was gone.\u201d<\/p>\n

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 caf\u00e9 on Newbury Street, my fingers were numb and my nose was running, and I\u2019d never been happier to see a door with a fogged-up window and the promise of warmth inside.<\/p>\n

The caf\u00e9 was small and cluttered, the kind of place that would be called \u201cartisanal\u201d 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. \u201cSo,\u201d he said, settling into the chair across from me. \u201cTell me something.\u201d \u201cSomething like what?\u201d \u201cSomething I don\u2019t know.<\/p>\n

Something surprising.\u201d I thought about it. There were a lot of things he didn\u2019t know. A whole lifetime he couldn\u2019t even imagine, and most of them I couldn\u2019t 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.<\/p>\n

But there were other things. True things. Things I\u2019d never told anyone because the old me had been too scared. \u201cMy mother left when I was twelve,\u201d I said. \u201cJust… disappeared one day. No warning, no explanation. She sent birthday cards for a few years and then stopped. I haven\u2019t heard from her since I was sixteen.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jack\u2019s face didn\u2019t change, but something shifted in his eyes.<\/p>\n

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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\u2019s 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.<\/p>\n

Thank you for respecting the copyright. Copyright \u00a9 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.<\/p>\n

She is overly fond of sparkly flip flops, books, and tea served in antique teacups. She writes women\u2019s 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\u2014not to fix the world, but to fight for the love you let go?<\/p>\n

In this emotionally charged time travel romance series, women at the crossroads of midlife wake up in the bodies they once had\u2014with 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\u2014still 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.<\/p>\n

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\u2014and 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\u2014not to fix your life, but to fight for the love you walked away from?<\/p>\n

On Valentine\u2019s 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\u2019s on the other end.<\/p>\n

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\u2019s Day. Thirteen days before the dinner where she once walked away and broke his heart.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.<\/em><\/p>\n

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