10/09/2025
When I first wrote Shatterproof, I dedicated the book to my parents, to my Auntie Linda, to my husband, John, and our precious son, Mason.
That will never change.
But when my brother passed away, just five weeks after the book was released, I wanted to honor him in a special way too.
Because the truth is, this story—our story—wouldn’t exist without him. And Shatterproof never would have made it into the world without his blessing.
He wasn’t just part of the story.
He was part of writing it.
There are parts I barely remembered until he reminded me. Moments I wouldn’t have included until he encouraged me.
Truth I didn’t know how to carry until he helped me hold them.
If he had said, “You can’t put this out there,” I wouldn’t have. No way.
But he didn’t.
He believed in this book.
He believed in me.
So today, I’m sharing something new. A memorial page inside the newly released paperback version of Shatterproof. One that honors my brother not only as a part of the story, but as a co-creator of the message it carries.
Because this book is part of his legacy, too.
Allen was my biggest cheerleader.
Even as his health declined, he was still texting, calling, pushing me forward. When the book launched last October, he couldn’t be with us in New York City for Pub Week but he was watching. Celebrating.
Smiling with that proud big-brother grin.
And now, even though he’s gone, I feel him in every single page. In every note I get from a reader who found hope in the hard. In every reminder that this book was never about the spotlight, it was about the story.
And the people who helped bring it to life.
This new memorial page isn’t just a remembrance.
It’s a thank you for the courage, wisdom, and love Allen gave to this book, to my message, and to me, his little sis.
Because Shatterproof isn’t just a reflection of my story.
It’s proof of what happens when we’re brave enough to tell the truth. Together.
Even in the hardest chapters.
