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Three baby boomer relive their trip to Woodstock in ’69.  One final road trip. One last chance to say Goodbye Emily.

Most readers of Goodbye Emily enjoy reading a Woodstock love story, but when I began the novel, my focus wasn’t on the musical event. I wanted to write a story with a main character in his early sixties portraying baby boomers the way I see us— funny, idealistic as we were in the sixties, sexually active and optimistic about the future. And baby boomers can still fall in love.

I’ve been thrilled with the response to the novel. Author Jen Estes said, “Goodbye Emily is amusing, heartwarming and inviting. Through Sparky’s healing journey, we discover that while we can’t escape heartbreak, we can’t let that keep us from pursuing love. I laughed, I cried…I thoroughly enjoyed Goodbye Emily.”

Author Lynne Morgan Spreen said, “I chuckled along, and in places I cried, and I finished the book with sad/happy tears running down my face – happy to have enjoyed the memories and sad for the days gone by.”

More reviews are available at www.goodbyeemily.com

Here’s a brief scene early in the book when the main character wakes up in the ER and is diagnosed with broken heart syndrome.

Most of my life, I was the luckiest man alive. I loved my wife to the moon and back, and she loved me even more. I adored my daughter and remained close to my best friends, Josh and Buck. I relished the role of respected professor at Milton College. For more than thirty years, I taught students things they didn’t know, and I learned from them. Life was perfect, until Emily’s cancer. Then it all fell apart.

I had nothing left except Cloe, Lady and booze to take away the pain and help me sleep. Life had spun out of control, and as painful as it was to admit, I had no idea how to get it back.

The patient in the next bed continued his phlegm-clearing even in his sleep. The hospital wasn’t doing him much good.

I climbed from the bed and winced from my aches and pains and a tug against my chest hairs by the heart monitor sensors. The wheels on the monitor squeaked as I moved it closer to the patient in the next bed. I peeked through the curtains to make sure the man was still asleep. I ripped off my sensors and stuck them to his chest.

His eyes blinked open. “Who are you?”

“A … a volunteer. Go back to sleep.”

His eyes fluttered closed.

The monitor barely missed a beat. With a satisfied chuckle, I retrieved my clothes from beneath the bed. I tossed the hospital gown into the corner and changed.

Even with the tear in my Steelers jacket I felt better already. I poked my head out the curtains. While nurses and doctors tended to really sick people, I followed the signs, left through the main entrance and made my great escape from the ER.

I took my health seriously, but it was my health. I didn’t need a wisecracking doctor and a battery of tests to mend my broken heart. I stuffed both hands in my jacket against the chilly early morning and began the long walk home to Lady.

Visit Michael Murphy’s web site

Goodbye Emily is available on Kindle and Nook and a bookstore near you.