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.

Reluctant Princess

“Syd,” I say. “If I were to step down as heir, would there be a place for me here?”

She reaches out and takes my hand again. “Without question,” she says. “Any time, come as you are, you betcha. And hell no. Yes, because I miss you and love you and it’s not the same without you. The kids adore you, life is better when you’re here.” She looks away from me, up at the star-filled sky. Her sorrow is a living thing between us, my wolf snuffling at it and whining. “And no, because you are so much more than a servant to anyone. And if you came back, I’d worry it was for the wrong reasons.”

Seven years have passed since Charlotte took her place as heir to the werenation. Still unmated and resisting her position, she longs for freedom she will never have, and life with a mortal man she loves. When a powerful new pack appears, Charlotte is instantly suspicious. Cicero Caine and his weres aren’t exactly what they seem. But the arrival of old enemies and a rising threat to all werewolves throws the wereprincess into the middle of a vast conspiracy, challenging the very foundations of what she’s been taught to believe.

Lychos Cycle

I stare at my reflection, touch my blonde hair. It was an easy enough thing to strip the black dye from it, even encourage growth, as it turns out. I shake it out over my shoulders, long and thick again. I missed it.


So odd the things that matter to me now.


A cold breeze washes in through my window, ruffling the gauzy curtains of my quarters. It's really too late in the season to have them open, the chill of winter less a hint and more a promise, but the fresh air helps me think.


It's hard for me to believe it's only been two weeks since the fall of Caine and the disappearance of Rupe. My fingers trace over the golden tiara resting in an ornate wooden box on my dressing table. This crown belongs to a princess, something I won't be much longer.


Chapter 97: Entrapment