I first began writing in my mother’s womb.  I remember it as clear as amniotic fluid.  Placing my tiny foot on one of her ribs and saying, “Swallow a pen and some paper or I’ll break it.”  When I popped out, I handed my 150,000 word epic novel Nine Months of Uterusary Confinement to the Doc and told him to start querying.

I’ve been waiting 30 years for that book to get published, but life is good. I’m content writing stories which don’t fit any particular mold, and I love breaking rules.  I’ve come to learn that if I get published along the way, it’s only icing on top of the cake I already have—my family.

Be on the lookout for Nine Months of Uterusary Confinement—a chilling memoir which will leave you stranded on the floor in the fetal position.

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