I read somewhere that talking to oneself is a sign of creativity. I think I showed “signs” at an early age. When I was young, I used to have long drawn-out conversations with myself; no imaginary friend. About what, I can’t remember, but it was all logical. I swear. My introduction to creativity came by way of a suggestion to dispel boredom during 7th grade recess. My best friend at the time decided we should write stories and exchange them. I don’t remember if she finished hers or not, but I remember thinking that I had more to say.
It was like my overactive imagination had been cracked wide open now that it had an outlet.
Shortly thereafter, I knew teen fiction would be my niche and with some encouragement from a wonderful English teacher my senior year, Mrs. Smith, I was well on my way to writing my first Great American Young Adult Fiction Novel. I independently published two YA books under a different name and was working on a YA trilogy before I got sidetracked by the Sexy Pool.
And by the Sexy pool, I mean adult romance books. I’ve been addicted since high school. I thought for sure my niche would be YA.
And it was.
Until I kept having a recurring dream about a female character who wasn’t a teenager.
So, here I am. Dipping my toe in the Sexy Pool and seeing where this journey takes me.
My husband and I share our home in Hot as Hell, Arizona with a talkative Tabby cat named Sweetpea. I love reading until my eyes cross (that has yet to happen), James Bond movies (Sean and Pierce mostly, but Daniel’s growing on me), Betty Boop, Gerber daisies, watching my favorite shows (of which there are plenty), and the band Linkin Park. When I’m not writing, I work as a Marketing Coordinator for The Man and nurture my entrepreneurial spirit (so I can eventually work for myself and not The Man).
Peace, lurve, and wet panties,