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

  Sarah's room looked like no one lived in it, the kind of tidy neatness that made me second guess my own life choices when it came to the clutter that was my closet. I sighed while I stood back and stared at the rather OCD organization of color coded breeches, golf shirts, white shirts, black jackets and polished tall boots that filled one end, the bare selection of street clothes on the shelf and hanging sadly on the other side evidence the young rider did little that wasn't to do with horses.


  Not much of a life, but then again, who was I to judge? She was doing what she loved, right? And if it wasn't for Crew and Daisy, would I even have a social life?


  Pots, kettles and calling out the black, Fleming.


  Liz looked up from the drawer she was examining on the other side of the room with a grin. "Kid's neat as a pin."


Chapter 394: Thorough Search