Many of the fanmail I get asks my inspiration.

Well, first off, naturally, I didn't expect to BECOME a writer, it just fell to me to tell stories. Sure, it was an honor for Oprah to love one of my books and it's in her club, yet I didn't even think it would go that far. Even sitting here at my laptop, I still chuckle at that marvel.

My brothers sure as hell didn't think I'd become this.

But there's always a story to tell. And after thinking hard on this one and some nagging from a certain young lady, I decided to write again. Only this time, I'm not writing alone.

My daughter is the subject of this story...so it's hers, I'm filling in some blanks of her life that she doesn't remember.

First off, before anyone says anything, no I'm not married. This is one part of my life that I haven't really thought of and please, no love letters. My daughter's married though, yet that wil become part of the story in time. We're not related by blood. I adopted her when I was a teenager.

That's where this story begins actually. So I will be starting and she will enter the scene and do her part.

You asked my inspiration? Well...she is. And she'll always be. And this is my dedication to her.

Michaelangelo studied what he had typed up and smiled to himself. "This is a long time coming," he said to himself thoughtfully. He pressed save to keep that part in as he opened a new page.

He had been a writer for awhile now, but writer's block plauged him good. His editor and publisher wanted new material, but he couldn't think of anything until Kay came up with the idea of a biography. His life was always mysterious, and with good right. He was raised to be like a shadow.

Like a ninja.

But with his beloved father gone, he and his brothers, with some help, now lived in a nice house away from everything near New York City. It was nice to be near the sunshine and have a lake, but he had so many memories. A biography seemed like the best thing, but it lacked one thing.

The story of his adopted daughter and how she changed things.

He sat back a moment twiddling a pen within his fingers. It was time, he knew this. His brothers might not like it, but they were heroes now. This wasn't just his story, or hers, it was all of theirs. He turned to the stack of papers and notebooks, having had his brothers write their experiences.

It was time for the biggest biography the world had seen.

And it was up to him to write it.