Some people acknowledge there is a good book in all of us, some not so kind claim that’s where they should remain. I tested my luck with a three book series.

In the first book I detail my discovery tour that I went on when my 77-year old mother enlightened me as to who my biological father really was; I was 44 at the time in 1992. This was a gravesite confession which began my 27-year research into my genealogy and family history with three families involved.

I grew up in a cemetery for the first 12 years of my life, and I described the background growing up in this environment, 'Nobody slept over at our place but we always had fresh flowers in the house.'