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.

A Poo Poo Kind of Morning

I tried not to look down the mouth of hell staring back at me from inside the glaringly pristine outer ceramic shell of the white throne, my throat catching, stomach doing half flips and a rather impressive rollover routine that would have gotten at least a 9.5 even from the Russian judges. Instead, I forced myself to smile and swallow and remind myself the elbow length yellow rubber gloves grasping the handle of the standard issue plunger were all that stood between me and Pooageddon. 

Suck it up, Fee. Big girl panties and adulting and all that. 

“At what point,” I waved the dripping plunger, wincing as droplets of yuck flew, “did I think owning a bed and breakfast was going to be glamorous and romantic?”


Fiona Fleming is in so much trouble. Her recently inherited bed and breakfast might not actually be hers thanks to the underhanded misdealings of the local real estate bully. Despite her grandmother's last will and testament, Fee might me out of luck and on the street before she even gets settled. But when her new enemy floats belly up in her koi pond, she's the prime suspect in his murder! Can she uncover who the real killer is before the smoking hot new sheriff puts her behind bars instead of asking her out on a date?

Dive into book one of the Fiona Fleming Cozy Mysteries, and don't miss the exciting sequels!

Fiona Fleming Cozy Mysteries

   Bill fell silent then, didn't say a word as we travelled the short hallway past a large pair of doors to what had to be communal bathrooms and out into the main corridor again. Had my own silence cut off his willingness to speak? I didn't know but hadn't the strength to put him first when my stomach churned about as fast as my mind.


   Helped to look around and force myself to be curious, even a little. This whole area, while tidy and finished, didn't have the kind of polished perfection of the main lodge. Plain gray carpet and ordinary white walls with a few signs dotting the emptiness with directions to bathrooms and the main lobby were punctuated by someone's vain attempt at décor with a few stock photo posters in cheap frames. Clearly the builders hadn't thought esthetic appeal important when it came to staff. The corridor we walked turned to the right, set with multiple plain white doors with placards beside them bearing names in magic marker.


Chapter 62: Behind The Scenes