Well, here we go again

What is this? Going on three years? Hard to believe that much time has passed.

I finally met someone who had my books in her home before she ever met me. That was as cool as it gets my friend. It went down like this, I told her I wrote books in my retirement and, of course, she asked, "What are your books about?"

So I started running down what, The boy with no name, was about.

"Wait," she says. "I think we have your books at home."

And it gets better! She went on to order a copy of, A Killer's Diary, for a friend for Christmas.