What's that you're reading, sir?

The man at the airport sitting across from us in the Southwest waiting area, the man beyond the first years of his 50s, the man alone, has his nose buried in an Iris Johannson novel. He's turning pages rapidly. I think the book was Silent Thunder. (But I don't snoop.) Should I tell him Iris started as a romance author? What would he say?

I didn't say a word. Perhaps he knows and doesn't care. I'm just glad to see him expanding the horizons of male readers everywhere.