At the age of 8, I was put into Title One at school, because my reading comprehension was “low”. Basically, I needed to read more, to get my comprehension up, which was like pulling teeth, for my poor mother. I would spend weekends with my Grandmother, who I would now categorize as a ferocious reader, avid would be an understatement. This is a woman who would keep telling herself one more chapter, and then stay up all night to end of finishing the book. The light from her room, while she was reading would keep me awake. Her answer, “I’m not shutting my light off so you can sleep, pick up a book and read. It will clear your mind, and you’ll sleep better.” So, with my crocheted pink book mark and copy of Charlotte’s Web that I bought at a school book fair, I started to read. It was a challenge, but then it became something I looked forward too. Long story short, my reading comprehension came up, no more Title One, and I was hooked for life.
I read consistently off and on over the years, but struggled to find a genre that really kept me wanting to come back for more. Needless to say, I did a lot of genre hopping. I devoured the whole Harry Potter Series, Twilight Series, Hunger Games Series, anything and everything Nelson DeMille ever wrote. Then I stumbled on to a blurb for Megan Hart’s book, Broken. I hadn’t read anything like it, so I one clicked it on Amazon. I consumed Broken over a weekend, which is something I had never done before, ever. Broken, led me to Fifty Shades of Grey, Cross Fire, This Man, Sweet Addiction and so many more.