The Best is Yet to Come

by Debbie Macomber

When a hurt is so deep, so intense, that it permeates your very soul; when it causes pain that is both physical and mental, is there any way out? Cade survived a firefight after watching his two best friends die. He has a leg injury, PTSD, and a lot of anger. He lost his parents’ support when he chose not to follow the family tradition of becoming a lawyer.

Shadow is a German Shepherd who was abused and neglected; but even in his malnourished state, he is aggressive toward all in the animal shelter until he meets Hope. Hope is a high school teacher and counselor who is determined to win Shadow over with patience and love. Can she do the same for Cade?

Hope has her own past to get over as her twin brother died in Afghanistan. He was her only remaining family member, and they were very close.

Along the journey Cade makes toward wellness, we meet Harry his VA counselor, the other members of his group counseling sessions, and a lot of supportive people.

The Best is Yet to Come is a book with relevant issues facing many who have served in the military and their loved ones. It is a clean romance with emotional impact. A quick read, it provides lots of opportunities to take breaks, but you won’t want to. The story line includes interactions with some of Hope’s students focusing on their struggles, and it climaxes with an action-packed scene.

The author provides satisfying resolution to all the plot threads, and the book leaves you wanting to read another Debbie Macomber novel. Fortunately, there are many you can choose from.

I received a complimentary copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. Opinions expressed in this review are completely my own.

Rating: 5/5

Category: Women’s Fiction, Romance

Notes: This is #3 in the series Oceanside, but it read like a standalone to me. I was not aware it was part of a series until I began to write the review.

Publication: July 12, 2022—Balantine (Random House)

Memorable Lines:

The memories of that last battle engagement clawed at him like an eagle’s talons, his sleep peppered with nightmares that his mind insisted on tossing at him like a hundred-mile-an-hour hardball pitch. He drank to forget. To sleep. To escape.

“By being loners, we feel like we’re handling life; we’ve built this fortress around ourselves. Involving others, inviting them into our pain, is hard. We resist. We don’t like it. We feel we can handle it on our own. We’re islands unto ourselves, not needing anyone.”

“An attitude of gratitude,” Harry said. “That, young man, will take you far.”