I’ve wanted to write for as long as I can remember. I declared it to my mother when I was seven, repeated it to my friends when I was in high school, and tried to remember it when times got rough.

Books were my escape as a child. I remember walking home from school with my nose buried in the pages of an Encylopedia Brown mystery (those blasted things were hard to solve!), an Animorphs adventure, or a Goosebumps horror story. Books allowed me to travel to faraway lands, meet new people, and have stirring adventures. Stories meant adventure, and I knew I wanted to tell them.

As an adult, I learned of a different type of storytelling: journalism. I spent years in the news business, meeting people, hearing their stories and helping them make sense of the world around them.

But my love of fiction never went away, and I began writing stories on the side, if just to get them out of my head. And in doing so I discovered that I had my own stories to tell, my own adventures to share.

I write the books I’d want to read, about heroes who choose to do the right thing, to stand up for the little guy, and who fight against impossible odds in order to save the day.

I only hope that my stories will help someone else have their own stirring adventures.