I woke up one day and decided to be a writer. Well, I guess I was a writer for a long time, a day-dreamer for even longer. But now I self-publish what I write, and try to make it interesting and readable. Like most other big decisions in my life, it was ill advised, poorly planned, and there's a strong possibility of failure. But I'm trying my best to make it work.
I now lead the typical romance writer's life: double agent. Working both sides, faithful to neither. Outwardly, I am an average stay-at-home mom. I take care of my family, I garden, I bake cookies (yes, I'm awesome), I mow my lawn, and I lead Girl Scout meetings. Secretly, I write romance (usually featuring gay men).
Because really, is there any better way to spend your time than reading or writing/dreaming about a good steamy love story? I don't think so! When I'm not reading or writing, I'm usually doing damage control on the mess my life/house has become whilst I was preoccupied with said reading/writing.
I enjoy doing "research" for my stories, consuming obscenely large quantities of rum, and exploring hiking trails throughout the northeast... although not all at once (that would be crazy fun, though!).