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 stumbled the last half block, chest burning and stomach heaving though she'd emptied it at least three times on the other side of the park. Her bruised and aching feet, sandals forgotten at the back door long before she'd returned to the hotel, bled footprints as she collapsed into the metal railing of the front fence.


   Footsteps rushed for her, hands grasping her, pulling her up, supporting her. Alice leaned against Rose's side, the warmth of the woman's arm around her shoulder almost burning to the touch. But her scent and the familiar lilt of the melody Rose hummed helped Alice make it the last few feet to the front door and finally inside.She collapsed against the door jamb outside the living room as Rose closed the door.


Alice clung to the doll, throat working, terror battling back its whispering voice, the sound of Rose singing clearing Alice's mind.


Chapter 40: What Have You Done?