Let's face it. Mostly, I sell copies of Goals for a Sinner to people I know: my relatives, members of my various clubs and RWA chapter, and most recently, my hairdresser who owes me for all that overpriced shampoo I've bought over the years. Everyone enjoys the book, so they say. A few seem simply astounded to find it is a good read. Recently, an acquaintance stopped me in a parking lot to say she'd gotten it on her Kindle. That gave me a small thrill.
But, the best thrill of all came last weekend when I headed out of a bathroom stall after our HeartLA meeting and was introduced to Meredith's mother. Genuinely excited to meet the author of Goals, she told me how much she enjoyed reading her daughter's copy and had passed it on to a cousin. She can't wait for the sequel, Wish for a Sinner, which has just been assigned an editor. Here was a person who didn't have to say anything nice to me at all. Did I care we were talking in a restroom? No. Did I mentally gripe that she hadn't actually bought the book? No. The idea that she'd liked it enough to recommend my book to others made my day.
Frankly, I wish I could implant microchips in my books and see where they wander like stray dogs who find new homes. I know for a fact, they've been to a cottage in Maine, flown on airplanes, gone to the beach and the lake and the Grand Tetons. In fact, my books have traveled more than I have this year. As long as people are reading and enjoying, I'm happy.