Barbara PelhamFirst, 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 athleic 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. Read More Read Less