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Whoever said a catastrophic accident couldn’t keep a person down… had never been in a catastrophic accident themselves.[CZ1]

Two years of excruciating pain from an obnoxious driver thinking he could scare a cyclist off the road did a stellar job of sending me flying through the air, only to hit another car and ruin my life forever. Humpty-Dumpty had a great fall, and he made out all right. Didn’t he?

Doctors kept telling me once my body healed, I’d be back to normal. What they would never understand was that my pain wasn’t just skin deep.

With the help of my cousin, I moved back to Michigan to rebuild and reboot my life. The chronic pain I’d been enduring had to end because I was losing my mind.

Remy St. James came highly recommended, though if he thought he could heal me, Gracie Sherman, he’d have to be a magician. I should have known, though, with hands like his eyes that sparkled brown and sensuous, my soul was at his mercy. If anyone could improve my life, it would be Remy. If anyone could ruin it, it’d be me.

It seems that kissing your physical therapist was a big ethical no-no. Too late![CZ2] [CZ3]

As I go through the motions of healing my body, the question becomes, do I keep the man with magical hands as my physical therapist? Or letting him go and becoming his life project?