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

  I was about to take it personally, deeply hurt in that instant of his crankiness, just as he cast his blue-eyed gaze over the set with a twist to his wide mouth. 


  "Hollywood," he grumbled. "I thought I left this crap behind in California." 


  I swallowed my moment of agony with the kind of surprised zing that made me blush. Okay, and maybe it was the scent of him hovering there, coffee and chocolatey caramelish deliciousness that reminded me my last relationship was about a year and a half ago. A relationship that ended badly with me swearing off men forever and ever that lasted until I saw Crew for the first time when I returned home to Reading and found he'd taken Dad's place as sheriff. Not to mention the fabric softener he used on his clothes mingling with the natural scent of him that invaded my personal space and made me tingle in very private places. 


Chapter 162: Cornered With Crew