I was going to post something about Valentine's Day, but then I heard the news that one of my favorite mystery writers had died. I first read a Dick Francis' mystery many years ago from the high school library. I immediately searched for more of them. As soon as one came out, I had to read it.
I never tired of his characters, many of whom were ex-jockeys like himself. They had an admirable sang froid manner of dealing with whatever life handed out and rising above the evil and/or pain. Here's a link to an article about Dick Francis:
I note that his son, Felix, plans to carry on writing novels. It will be interesting to see how well he does without his Dad's collaboration. Felix has some very large shoes to fill, figuratively speaking. Having been a jockey, I doubt if Dick Francis had very large feet. He may have been small physically, but his stature in the mystery community was great.
Though I never met Dick Francis, I'll miss him.