My Bob is a lot of things: a man of his word; wonderful husband; incredible dad and grandpa; neighbor; friend; handyman, and the list goes on. However, he is NOT a reader of fiction.

All these years of writing and writing he’d say “If you ever get it published, then I’ll read it.” Yet, he’s been my biggest and most faithful cheerleader: shelling out money so I can attend conferences; gas money, etc., so I can travel 3.5-4 hours each month–even if it meant my being gone several days–so I can be active in my writing group and on the conference committee. Plus, he’s eaten more sandwiches than any man should have to endure so I can keep writing.

But did I mention he’s a man of his word? Look who’s reading my book. I can’t even begin to explain what this does to my heart when we sit of an evening–me with my laptop on my…well, lap…and My Bob with his nose in my book.  AND he asks questions, and scolds me when I answer them because “now you’ve told me what’s going to happen and it won’t be a surprise!

Oh, how I love this man.

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