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work hard and smart and maybe it might

I wanted an easy life.

I wanted to be rich.

Not like Scrooge McDuck swimming in a sea of gold coins rich, but something akin to buying pizza when I felt like it rich.

But more than money, I wanted freedom.

There was a sense of slavery tied into a regular job.

I grew up being told that hard work was good.

All the while I watched people who didn’t work all that hard grow up in better houses, with better parents

They had alligator shirts on their clothes and swooshes on their canvas shoes

And made fun of me for what I wore and where I lived and how I acted

I wanted money so I could do the things I wanted and buy the things I wanted

So I got a job, and that stole my time

But I was young and what better way to spend time than making money?

Money I needed to pay for the car and gas I used to get to and from the job.

Fair trade until I got older and wanted a place to call my own.

Then it was a job to pay rent, and pay for a car, and pay for insurance and the light bill and the gas bill and the water bill

Food and fun always came last on the list, but by the time came to have it, I was too tired from the job

A vicious cycle

A vicious circle

That somehow, I could never figure my way out

Because it seemed like every time I made more money, somebody besides me got more of it

Moved up in tax brackets so the government could take it

Watched Congress collude with the Fed to raise inflation so any money I had left just wasn’t worth what it once was

And the companies that owned all the things I need to live kept raising their rates too

So I learned

It doesn’t matter what you make, only what you get to keep

I tried to keep more of it, even as I made more of it

Money

I learned about tax strategies and creating businesses around hobbies

So I could at least try to pay out less and save more

But the freedom I wanted eluded me

The freedom from the dream of being rich

Just so I could be free

Two ideals that are as interconnected as an infinity loop

But the truth was a harsh pill to swallow

I wasn’t quite smart enough to make enough to be rich enough to be free

So I had to trade more of my time to make more money that the government took even more of

And I realized something

It all boiled down to one number

One simple end of the month calculation

What was the minimal viable income I needed to answer to no one

And how could I build my life around that

Mystery Thriller Book Fair

Quick question: What does $75 usually get you these days?

✅ A forgettable dinner you barely remember.
✅ A tank of gas that vanishes faster than your patience in traffic.
✅ A grocery run where you stare at the receipt wondering who you robbed.

But here’s what $75 could get you—

Nearly 30 full-length thrillers that’ll keep you wired for months.

And here’s the part that doesn’t make any sense (in a good way):

You’re not paying $75. Not even close.

I took 30 books from my most adrenaline-fueled series—

almost a million words of action packed thrills

The Shadowboxer Files and The Declassified Files—
and bundled them into one monster-sized collection.

We’re talking thousands of pages of covert ops, brutal twists, and the kind of “holy hell” moments that keep you turning pages way past your bedtime.

But instead of $75… you’re getting the entire set for just $20.

That’s less than a sad pizza delivery,
except this time you won’t be hungry.
You’ll be obsessed.

👉👉 Grab the Big Thriller Boxset for $20

Move fast. Deals like this don’t hang around—
and neither do readers once they crack open book one.