The other day, I received a message from a reader named Megan. She had just finished Forgotten Soldiers and Echoes,  decided to send me a photo of her reading corner.

At first glance, it's a warm, inviting fireplace scene, logs neatly stacked, candles resting on side tables, a wooden tortoise keeping watch over the room. But then I looked a little closer… and there they were.

Right on top of the stack to the right of the fireplace, Forgotten Soldiers and Echoes, sitting proudly among the other books that made it into Megan’s life. Not just in her hands, but into her space. Her home.

I don’t know how to explain this properly, but moments like these stay with a writer. You spend months writing, revising, doubting, shaping characters and truths into something you hope might matter. And then, sometime later, somewhere out there, someone reads it. Keeps it. Places it next to a fireplace. Right between Jane Harper and John le Carré.

That means the world to me.

Thank you, Megan, for the photo and for the reminder that our stories don’t just get published, they land, and they settle. They warm the same rooms we do.

Stay warm, and keep reading,

Braam