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

   Thankfully Mom appeared before Olivia could shake me or fall into a seizure fit or whatever it was she seemed about to do in the face of such pressure. I wondered again, as I had in February when I noted the weariness in her, just how long our tourism-hungry mayor could keep up the kind of pace that seemed to be leading her down the path to a heart attack or an aneurysm or a public breakdown of massive proportions.


   I didn't have to handle it alone at least, my mother's firm hands and capable manner diffusing Olivia as she grasped the mayor's shoulder and squeezed kindly, beaming a smile.


   "What an excellent opportunity for Reading!" Dear god, did Mom just spew one of Olivia's taglines? The mayor stilled, smiled a little, as my mother guided her into the sitting room and plunked her firmly on the love seat, Petunia hopping up next to her and leaning into her, panting


her happiness while Olivia's hands auto-stroked the pug's soft fur. "Olivia, what do we need to do?"


Chapter 92: Opportunity