Sometimes I get so distract by sales and prmotion that I forget why I wrote this book. Sometimes something happens to jar me back into reality. Yesterday, I received a delightful phone call from an elderly woman who had read the Mrs. Rowe’s Restaurant Cookbook.
“Are you Mollie Cox Bryan?”
“Yes.”
“I have your book here and I’ve read every word.”
“Yes?”
“About the incident at Rowes where a man escaped from DeJarnette Mental Hospital and destroyed the place?
“Yes?” By now, I am thinking, okay this is it, I’ve offended this person, I’ve gotten it wrong, she is going to drag me into court, or give me the worst tongue-lashing I’ve ever had.
“Well, I was there. Let me tell you I was scared to death and I crawled out the back door, leaving others behind. I thought someone was being shot! I was there. I just wanted you to know. You book is delightful and is bringing back so many memories,” she said.
Who was that person?
She was Adrian Rowe, Williard’s first cousin.
How cool is that?
