I hate talking about myself in the third person--feels too much like a eulogy and I'm not dead yet. So here it goes, one biography coming up.
Humor, be it light or dark, is critical to my mental health. Add a dash of snark, a little suspense and an occasional murder and you've found my literary voice. Oh, and smexy. Can't forget the smexy. My theory is a kiss should be meaningful regardless of length, a hero can say as much with a well-written look as he can with a long-winded paragraph, and heroines are meant to hold their own. She's no Cinderella and Shakespeare wrote the only Romeo and Juliet, so I stick to women who can save themselves and tortured heros who are loathe to let them. If we can find a little, or a lot, of romance along the way? We're both happy.
I'm not perfect and that's perfectly fine. It's too much pressure, and pressure leads to guilt, self-hatred, a little too much wine, new kittens, Twinkie binges and a sore stomach.
I write the stories I want to read but can't find. Okay, that's not true. I write the stories the characters in my head tell me to write. I'm a conduit not for the spiritual world, but the fictional one. Don't be alarmed. I'm a professional. I paid my daily horoscope subscription for the daily affirmation, so it's now guaranteed. Thank you, Mastercard. You were right--some things ARE priceless.
I'm an unashamed Anglophile.
My favorite things are totally random and unrelated-- masculine men with a sense of chivalry but no pretention, a rainy day, snow, my Bull Mastiff, good guacamole, the rare true friend, a good book that makes me lose track of time, and the gift of hope.
I'm represented by the amazing and fearless Deidre Knight of The Knight Agency. (I still get lightheaded and slightly giddy at the fact.)