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This is around the age I was when "lights out" meant flashlight on! I used to sneak out of bed and peer lovingly at my overly-stickered bookcase. The top shelf held favorite tiny stuffed animals. The other two, worlds of wonder.


Each book meant something to me.


Each cover invited a new journey. 

Every glossy page felt smooth to the touch.

In my innocence, I never pondered how the yellowish-orange flashlight and evening's pick made their way from under my pillow (what a clever hiding spot!) to the bookcase. It could only have been magic (and not my teacher/mother who was beyond excited by her newly minted bookworm!).

I hope that the stories I tell about real heroes hidden by history inspire, educate, and delight...before magically making their way back to the bookshelf!

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