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.

What if Death fell in love with Life and they had a daughter…?

Life or Death
The old man’s body arched, his eyes flying open, a moan escaping his lips while the heart rate monitor speeded before settling into a strong, healthy rhythm. I jerked my hand back, weight in my chest as the mist dissipated and left me to stare at the body in the bed.
While Nero’s hand grasped my arm and pulled me forcefully away, I knew the truth. The old man’s eyes fluttered, opened. And he smiled at me. Alive. Healthy. Full of Life when his fate was Death.
No. Not again.

Her unique parentage ensures Eve isn't like her angel siblings. She brings Death at the beginning of Life and Life to those meant to die. Her continuing failures create constant disaster for her parents and the mortals she tries so hard to serve. But when Eve accidentally interferes with the Loom of Creation, she sets off a chain of events that leads her to finally understand who she really is.

Eternal Daughter

   I have no idea how I all of a sudden became the voice of reason when it came to the gods and goddesses. Nor how I found myself, six hours later, sitting on my throne in the Mist realm, in full Chaos persona, with the assembled biggies of each of the realms standing in a semicircle at the base of my dais. It was the most surreal experience of my life, and I wasn't sure how to take it. After all, I had been the single most hated and despised and feared person in all of Creation. I had been reviled, treated with disdain and resentment. They'd even tried to murder me. And yet, here they were, like a bunch of petulant children hanging around my throne with scowls on their faces that told me for some reason they thought I was going to be able to resolve their problems.


   I hated to break it to them. I was the last person they needed to be talking to. And yet, who else was there?


Chapter 130: The Voice Of Reason