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

My first need was to expel the contents of my stomach the moment consciousness returned. I struggled to keep the nausea in check, but found it difficult. My entire body was on fire, or felt that way at least, every pore gaping wide for relief. I gasped and panted for air, rolling over on something soft, wishing I didn't have to touch anything around me. The very brush of fabric on my skin was enough to rekindle the sensation of flames and crisping skin.


A pain like I had never known tore through me, rising and falling in waves of agony I could only writhe and whimper through as my body's torment went on and on. I was certain many times I was about to die, that I would never, could never survive such anguish, such terrible and endless agony.


Chapter 57: Warrior Of Atum