I don’t remember the very first book I read that made me fall in love with reading. I do know that my love of romance reading started with Barbara Cartland. I read Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier when I was entirely too young to understand it, and surprisingly didn’t read it again until I was in my thirties. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Green Dolphin Street, Ride the Wind, and anything by Anita Shreve are among my all-time favorites.
In high school, I carried the latest bodice ripper in my backpack and hid the book inside my textbook on my desk (probably why I’m not doctor as I most often got away with that in Mrs. Healy’s health class). I wrote my first entire book at 18 and still have the seven legal pads of that sweetheart (which will never see the light of day).
I have four grown children, each equally wonderfully (just ask them they’ll tell you) and one four-legged baby, Brody, who keeps me on fairly tight schedule with walks and feedings and snack time.