One of my greatest childhood memories was going to the public library in West Dundee, Illinois. Before the fancy new one was built, the library was housed in an old Victorian. I’d wander over creaky floors from room to room, before settling in my favorite section. Mystery.

I’d browse the shelves, hoping to find one I hadn’t read. Then I’d go curl up in one of the many nooks and crannies of the beautiful old home and turn to page one. There was nothing better than the smell of a library book.

I owe my love of reading to my mother. She started me off early and I’ve stuck with it ever since. No matter how busy life was, I was always in the middle or the beginning or the ending of a book.

My work life went in a different direction. I became a physician assistant and spent years working in cardiac surgery and then urology. But after so many years of reading great books, I had a dream: to write a story of my own.

It’s been a lot of hard work but I’ve loved every minute.