Everything I write is a labour of love. But Prone to Wander is maybe even more of a labour of love than most of my books.

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Jeff Evans never believed that your life flashes in front of your eyes right before you die. But now, with a tractor-trailer heading towards his car on the wrong side of the highway, he realizes there might be something to that idea after all.

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His memory rewinds to the summer he was fourteen, hanging out at church camp with his four best friends. Twenty-five years later, those four friends are living wildly diverse lives. From a rat-infested boarding house filled with drunks and addicts, to a picture-perfect Christian family that hides a dark secret: Dave, Liz, Julie and Katie and in such different places, it's hard to imagine what could ever bring them together again -- except a tragedy.

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One of the early readers of this book described it as "1980s Seventh-day Adventist sub-culture meets St. Elmo's Fire," which I'll admit makes it sound like a very niche read. I call this book a labour of love because even though it's pure fiction, it's deeply rooted in the world I grew up in and the kind of people that grew up there with me.

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When I first began writing this book nearly 15 years ago, I thought it might never be of interested to anyone but myself, or perhaps to those very few people who shared my roots in that place and time. But as I shared it with a few people from different backgrounds I found that threads in it appealed to people for a variety of reasons. It's a story for anyone who had struggled to hold onto a childhood faith in the adult world, or for anyone who has let go of that faith in an effort to find who they are. It's for anyone who has relied on the bonds of lifelong friendship, as well as for anyone who has found that those ties are not enough to hold them to the person they used to be.

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If you think Prone to Wander might be for you, you can get hold of a copy here.