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 expected to be booted immediately, or at least called out for my presence. Surely the look the young rider gave me told me she knew exactly the state of affairs surrounding my identity and my illegal presence on the premises. Instead, she smiled, offering one hand, strong as I shook it in too much shock not to react on instinct.


  "I've heard a lot about you," she said like we'd met casually and not during my lowest moment of criminal enterprise. "My aunt speaks very highly of you."


  Aunt? It took me a second to make the connection, to pair the dark brown eyes with ones familiar already, to note the blonde bun pinned under the rim of her black velvet helmet, the shape of her cheekbones, lips, jawline. Even her build and the way she carried herself as she retrieved her hand, using it to pat the neck of the mare next to her, the giant creature bobbing her head and snorting, one large hoof impacting the ground in a thud of protest at being forced to stand still.


Chapter 379: Sarah