Gabrielle A. Hunter writes with heart, precision, and a deep reverence for the emotional truths that shape our lives. Her debut novel, On My Mind and in My Heart, is a contemporary epistolary narrative that blends fiction with lived experience—inviting readers into a story of love, memory, and second chances.
A finance professional by day and a storyteller by soul, Gabrielle lives in New York City with her family, including a talented emerging artist who inspires her daily. She’s an avid traveler, nature lover, and lifelong reader who finds beauty in quiet moments and meaning in emotional nuance.
Gabrielle’s writing is marked by its honesty, intimacy, and refusal to settle for easy answers. She believes in stories that linger, characters that transform, and language that feels both natural and soul-deep. If On My Mind and in My Heart resonated with you, she would be honored to hear your thoughts—every review helps this heartfelt journey reach new readers.
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Gabrielle A. Hunter writes with heart, precision, and a deep reverence for the emotional truths that shape our lives. Her debut novel, On My Mind and in My Heart, is a contemporary epistolary narrative that blends fiction with lived experience—inviting readers into a story of love, memory, and second chances.
A finance professional by day and a storyteller by soul, Gabrielle lives in New York City with her family, including a talented emerging...
When I first started putting together the letters that make up my book, I knew I was writing about love. But as the manuscript took shape, I realized I needed to make something clear to you, my readers.
This is a love story, not a romance.
I know, it’s a subtle distinction.
When we think of a "romance novel," we often expect a specific formula: two people meet, face conflict, and ultimately end up in a guaranteed happily-ever-after. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that. I love a good...
March has arrived, that strange mix of cold mornings and hopeful afternoons. I always find myself waking up a little earlier this time of year, as if my mind knows spring is on its way before the calendar does.
I’ve been thinking about that as I work on my current project. Some days the writing comes easily; other days it feels like walking through fog. But progress is progress, even when it’s slow, especially when it’s slow.
It’s also easy to overlook how far we’ve come. We wait for big...
February always sneaks up on me. It’s short, a little uneven, and somehow still manages to feel like a turning point. Maybe it’s the cold. Maybe it’s the way the light hangs on a little longer each afternoon. Or maybe it’s the fact that this is the month when people start talking about love again. Not the loud kind. The small, steady versions.
The way someone remembers how you take your coffee. The text that arrives at the exact moment you need it.
Those are the moments I’ve been paying attention...
