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

Despair clawed rents in Alice's soul while Rose reached for her, hugging Alice against her chest. "We're all at fault," she said. "Not just you, Greatmama." Rose leaned back, looking down into Alice's eyes. "Our two families have been tied together for generations, cher. We have tried and tried to reach Grace, first when her father forced Greatmama to leave, then when Harold died. But Grace was lost to us, closed off. It wasn't until you arrived we knew it was time to return to Blunt House."


   The two women in the doorway, mother and daughter, nodded slowly, hugging each other.


   "You are my responsibility," Rose said. "I was meant to guide and protect you. But I have failed." Pain wreathed her beautiful face. "Though the doll's initial intention was pure, protective, it's changed."


   Alice cleared her throat, swiping at the tears on her face. "I found it," she said, "with a pin stuck in it." She pointed to the spot where the old rust stain marked the fabric.


Chapter 35: Generations