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

Rose's car carried them through town, heading past the rougher side Alice wandered through only a few short days ago. Alice clung to her purse, the doll inside, fear and anger twisting together in a tornado of emotion leaving her on edge.


   Rose remained silent through the drive, not humming, not looking at Alice, a grim frown fixed on her face. Alice cringed sideways toward the car door as the whirling emotions tore away at her and refused to ease.


   Anxiety grew by the moment, heightening as Rose turned onto a narrow street. The water flashed just past a row of low houses as the little community encroached on the marsh, lawns as overgrown as Blunt House's, rusted old tricycles with missing wheels, half-stripped cars hunched decaying in the grass, broken pavement rocking the car under them as Rose guided her hatchback to the end of the street and into a pitted driveway.


Chapter 34: Greatmama Juliette