I wrote my first story when I was thirteen, I thought it was a romance but perhaps if I dusted it off I would have to reconsider, after all what did my young teenage heart know of romance or heartbreak. 

Some things haven't changed since then, I still read voraciously and write until the wee hours of the morning, and dream of someday being an accomplished author.  With a lifetime of experience to call upon, my tastes have matured and so has my writing, but I still felt as if I was missing something essential to that process. 

That something was my new husband, who has inspired me to be who I've always dreamed I was.  Who has encouraged me to really explore who I am as a woman, as a writer and as the wife of a man who is strong and kind and loving.

Now, at thirty-seven, with two 'almost grown' kids, I can finally say that I have thrown my hat into the publishing ring, I'm not afraid of rejection, nor am I afraid of acceptance, and I will keep throwing my submissions out there until something sticks.