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.

Banished to Victorian London

“Auburdeen Perneila Hayle,” Sassafras hissed, the amber glow from his cat eyes growing until the front of the wicker cage shone with it, “you will do whatever you can to behave yourself, to not embarrass me or your mother and to absolutely under every circumstance maintain a firm hand on your horrid temper.”

My anger simmered. Yes, I had a temper. And yes, it had taken me into situations in the past that perhaps I shouldn't have been part of, situations that usually devolved into fistfights and incoherent yelling at the offender. He should be grateful I always kept control of myself enough my magic never came into play. Except that one time. But it wasn't my fault. Not really. And the offender recovered. Eventually.

Auburdeen Hayle is the sixteen-year-old daughter of the next leader of her coven. When the transition of power becomes tense, Burdie is sent from her home in America to stay with old friends in London to keep her safe. But a handsome young man chooses to hide from the police in her hansom, drawing Burdie into an underground world of magic that challenges even her sense of adventure and puts her at odds with the very people who are meant to protect her.

Blood and Gold Trilogy

I woke, groggy and dizzy, my world in swaying motion. My whole body hurt, my skull most of all. Things seemed to be upside down and sideways, my head heavy and bobbing up and down. My stomach clenched against such treatment, heaving slightly with every motion, but I couldn't seem to convince my arms and legs to coordinate or cooperate with me for that matter.


My nose told me we were still in the sewer, and part of me despaired at ever getting the horrid smell out of my hair. My gaze drifted sideways in the darkness, settling on Stella. She was unconscious, a welt on the side of her face, long blonde hair being dragged along the ground as whoever pulled her did so from a grip on her feet. I winced myself as her head bounced over a rut, and heard her groan.


It was too dark to see much else clearly and the effort of focusing made everything so very much worse.


Chapter 39: Thieves Guild