First, let me say - I didn't set out to become a writer. I was too busy running - literally.At fourteen, I was a competitive runner with my eyes on the finish line... until a friend (bless his clumsy soul) accidentally shattered my knee and my athletic dreams in one fell swoop. Overnight, I went from racing tracks to lying flat on my back, trapped beneath a fortress of blankets and a towering stack of Harlequin romances.My dad took one look at those bodice-rippers scattered across my bed, said nothing, and disappeared - only to return moments later, drop a book onto my lap, and declare: "You need to broaden your reading horizons." The book was Iceberg by Clive Cussler. And just like that, my fate was sealed. Dirk Pitt became my new hero. Adventure, mystery, danger - all danced off the page and straight into my imagination. While my knee healed, a new dream took shape: I wanted to whisk readers away on thrilling journeys of their own.So here I am: a writer fueled by a twist of fate, a determined dad, and the legendary Clive Cussler. And while I may not be sprinting down tracks anymore, I'm still chasing stories - and loving every second of the race.It means the world to have you here with me. May my stories spark your imagination as wildly as they've sparked mine.