I’m an international, multiple award-winning author with a passion for the voices in my head. As a singer, songwriter, independent filmmaker and improv teacher and performer, my life has always been about creating and sharing what I create with others. Now that my dream to write for a living is a reality, with over a hundred titles in happy publication and no end in sight, I live in beautiful Prince Edward Island, Canada, with my giant cats, pug overlord and overlady and my Gypsy Vanner gelding, Fynn.

Début

The world struggles around It, a back and forth seesaw of demand and denial. It flops inside its box as the world spins, turned upside down. One of the shining, pearl-topped pins jabs Its leg. The pain is a shock. But It is unable to do anything about the agony. Gravity lets go and It floats for what seems an eternity before crashing into something hard.

The box remains intact, at least. Its home, Its safe haven.

Still, It has no fear, only confusion and need. Where is the girl in whose image It was created?

Silence. Darkness. Waiting.

All the while, the pin. And the pain. On and on forever.

Alice isn't popular. Alice isn't pretty. Alice isn't likable--at least, that's what she's been told most of her life. Moving to a new town hasn't helped any, not with her nasty brother torturing her almost daily and her too-cool, uber-popular cousin making her life miserable. When Alice finds an old doll in her grandmother's attic, she feels an unusual connection to it. She just can't bring herself to feel bad when horrible things start happening to the people who are cruel to her...

Pins and Needles

Alice ate supper alone, Rose already gone by the time she went downstairs again, Betty locked in her office. But Alice didn't mind. She felt content, calm, in balance. The happiest she'd ever felt.Sleep came easily, peacefully, pulling her down into a quiet and refreshing darkness.


When she woke the next morning, it was to a bundle of fresh energy and eagerness to meet the day.


   A glance at her cheek in the mirror told her she'd been mistaken about Aunt Christine's claw marks. Her face was untouched. As a matter of fact, the hand full of red blemishes she'd tried to cover with concealer yesterday had vanished completely. Her dose of mascara went on flawlessly, thickening her lashes so much Alice fluttered them a few times just to admire them.


Chapter 29: A New Alice