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 tossed fitfully, suffering nightmares and moments of terror in the brief moments I found unconsciousness, waking in the dark only to struggle with my mind again. When I started to my senses for the third or fourth time, I was certain it was just from another bad dream. Until I heard the shouting and saw the fire.


Riders wove their way among us, carrying torches. I watched in horror as one was tossed to the top of Nona's wagon and left to burn. I staggered to my feet, gathering my magic, feeling the battle begin again and my panic rise.


No. It could not be. I would not allow my friends to die because I was weak. I slammed my determination into the sorcery struggling for freedom and grasped a hold of my witchcraft. I sent a gush of water toward Nona's burning wagon, the moisture called from the very air even as I spun and drove two fists of wind into the belly of one of the riders. He collapsed to the side, falling from his horse, black cloak falling around him.


Chapter 55: Attack