What re-releasing the Trading Heartbeats trilogy taught me
- julienavickasautho

- Jun 3
- 4 min read
When I made the decision to re-release the Trading Heartbeats trilogy this spring, I thought I knew exactly what I was signing up for. After all, I had already written the books. The stories existed. The characters existed. The hard part was done.
Or so I thought.
But three books and countless revisions later, I can confidently say that bringing these stories back to life taught me more than I ever expected. And while I wouldn't necessarily recommend rewriting three novels back-to-back, I don't regret a single minute of it.
I trust these stories more than ever

One of the most rewarding parts of this process was rediscovering the characters who started it all. Mavis. Josh. Casey. Austin. Lauren. Mitch. These characters helped launch my publishing career, but when I originally wrote the trilogy, I was still finding my footing as an author. I believed in the stories, but I wasn't always confident in my voice.
This time felt different.
Instead of wondering whether the emotional moments landed, I knew where they needed to hit harder. Instead of second-guessing character motivations, I understood them more deeply. Years of writing, revising, studying craft, and publishing additional books gave me perspective I simply didn't have the first time around.
The result wasn't a different story. It was the same story told with greater confidence. And that felt incredibly rewarding.
First person changed everything
The biggest change readers will notice is the shift from third-person point of view to first person. It's a decision I spent a long time considering.
Third person has strengths. It provides flexibility and distance. It allows readers to observe a character's journey. But first person allows readers to experience it.
As I rewrote these books, I found myself sinking deeper into the emotional lives of my characters. I wasn't describing what Mavis felt. I was feeling it alongside her. I wasn't explaining Josh's heartbreak. I was living inside it, too.
The result is a more intimate reading experience. The romance feels closer. The conflicts feel sharper. The emotional stakes feel higher.

But more importantly, I finally feel like readers can connect with these characters the same way I have connected with them all these years. For stories built around love, loss, healing, and second chances, that closeness matters.
I've evolved as a storyteller
Revisiting work from earlier in your career is a strange experience. It's a little like opening an old photo album. You smile because you remember the moment. You cringe because of the haircut. And you immediately notice all the things you'd do differently today.
As I worked through each book, I could clearly see how much I've grown as a writer. I understand pacing better. Dialogue feels more natural. Character arcs are stronger. Emotional beats have more room to breathe. I know when to pull back and when to lean into a moment.
The stories themselves didn't need to change. But the way I executed them absolutely did. That's not a criticism of who I was as a writer. It's just proof that growth happened. And as much as I loved seeing the improvements on the page, I loved seeing the evidence of that growth even more.
The hardest part wasn't the writing

Ironically, rewriting the books wasn't the most difficult part of the process. Marketing them was.
Publishing a book is hard. Promoting a book is hard. Convincing readers to take a chance on your story is hard. Now try doing all of that again for books that already existed. That's an entirely different challenge. There's no debut excitement. No shiny-new-book energy. No sense of discovering something for the first time. Instead, you're asking readers to revisit something familiar while also convincing new readers that these stories deserve a place on their shelves.
There were moments when I questioned (and no doubt my publisher did, too!) whether anyone would care. Moments when I wondered if I should simply focus on writing the next thing instead. Moments when promoting the trilogy for a second time felt harder than promoting it the first.
But every message from a reader reminded me why I started. Some readers were experiencing the series for the first time. Others were returning to characters they hadn't visited in years. Both reactions mattered. Both made the work worthwhile.
I'd do it again (and I will!)
The Trading Heartbeats trilogy will always hold a special place in my heart because it represents a beginning. But this spring, it became something else. A reminder. A reminder that growth doesn't erase where we started. A reminder that stories can evolve alongside the people who write them. A reminder that sometimes revisiting an old dream allows you to see just how far you've come.

Was it challenging? Absolutely. Was it worth it? Without question.
These books feel more like mine today than they ever have before. Not because the stories changed, but because I changed. I brought new skills, new confidence, and a deeper understanding of storytelling to every page.
And perhaps that's the greatest gift of this entire process: realizing that growth doesn't diminish the work that came before. It enhances it. Which is probably why I'm doing it all over again.
This fall, I'll also re-release the Clumsy Little Hearts trilogy, starting with Trusting Love in August, Finding Love in September, and Chasing Love in October. The prospect is both exciting and a little daunting, knowing exactly how much work lies ahead.
But now I also know how rewarding the journey can be. Because sometimes the best way to move forward as a writer is to revisit the stories that helped you become one.
Here are mine:




Comments