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

There was no way Alice was missing the football game the next night, the first of the season. The old Alice would have avoided the game as though her life depended on it.


But now she was driven to attend. And to bring the doll with her.


   Alice slid beneath the bleachers, hiding in plain sight, a clear view of the field from between the risers and the whole space to herself. She'd argued with herself for an hour before she settled on bringing the doll.


   Alice knew better. Her fingers itched to pull the doll out, to feel the shining pins, to jab and stab and punish the handsome jocks who were so mean to her, to find another target in the lineup of cheerleaders prancing around the field. There was no sign of Kourtney, or Claire, for that matter. Dear cousin was busy organizing for the formal, only twenty four hours away.


Chapter 31: Next Target