I am very happy to learn that Missing Pieces, the book I wrote about my father and the journey we took together toward forgiveness, has made the cut and is now a finalist for the RONE Award. I've been a finalist before, even won it last year for my thriller, Tormented. But it means more to me this year because before my father died, I promised that I'd tell our story--his story really.  A grenade blew up in his hand in WWII and it blew up in the hands of his uborn children as well. Our childhoods were far from idyllic. But when an aoritic aneurysm threatened to blow up inside him, I flew accross the coutry to be with him. During that time, he told me his story--all the missing pieces--and I came to love him in in a profound way. And that is what I want to remember—to remember always. The two of us, father and daughter, shadowed by the first light. Momentarily alone together, our breath rising into the morning air and him, lying there, telling me for the first time, the story of his life. The story of the man who was, after all, my father.

Just days before it was to be released, I panicked. What if people hate it? What if the reviewers call it "self indulgent" drivel? But this isn't what happened. Missing Pieces has the best reviews of any of my books--averaging 4.9 stars. So, you never know. 

​I hope Missing Pieces wins the RONE Award, not so much for me, but for my father