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People often ask writers how are they inspired. Life can be an inspiration. Some of my work comes from dreams. I suppose I have a vivid imagination. Last night I dreamt about a woman on vacation with her two small children. A couple approach and ask about her kids. Then she notices there is a baby doll in one car seat of their car and another older look child doll in another. She tries to get away but they take one of her children and pursue her to get the other.

I really dreamed this right down to her changing the diaper of the baby and her mother trying to help her get away from the bad guys.

Weird. I don’t know why or how I dream this stuff but it helps me with new ideas.


Haven’s Destiny


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I submitted my manuscript to an award program for women writers. Fingers crossed!



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Time cannot dissolve the pain

The scars stay fixed and fibrous

Remodeled bone creaks again

Fear shades the day, forever timeless

Nothing can heal those wounds

You’re broken, no longer whole

Evermore changing, reckless moods

An empty receptacle of a beaten soul

Haven’s Destiny


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Haven Conner took care of her sisters better than their mother ever did. When a social worker came to the apartment one night to forget his demons, he felt compelled to save the three girls from living with their whore mother.

Once Child Services took over the case, the girls were separated. The two youngest were lucky. They were adopted. Haven moved from foster home to group home to living from day to day on the streets of the city.

One summer morning while playing a game of basketball with his friends, Elias saw a young woman playing guitar under a tree in the park. Neither Elias nor Haven realized how that moment would be the beginning of a new road for both of them.

Haven’s Destiny is a romantic, rags to riches story that will tug at your emotions like no other. Haven discovers the most important hero in life is herself. If you like tales about heroes and survivors, Haven’s Destiny is a novel you won’t want to put down.

Editing DONE


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Now I need a kick-ass title to grab readers attention.

Originally it was titled by the name of a song, Somebody Saved Me but I’m afraid of copyright infringement. Then I thought Saved By You but it’s not a grabber.

without telling the story here, I need some words I might be able to make a title from, Saved, Protected, Inspired, Let Go, Released?




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Pain and sorrow rode with us to the church that day. My fully engorged breasts reminded me of what I had lost. Most of the day was a blur. A moment of my eldest daughter’s face filled with questions. All others wore somber expressions. People had no idea what to say on occasions like those. What do you say to a mother who lost her child before even meeting her little one?

My mother walked to the back of the SUV. The gentleman from the funeral home pulled the tiny white casket out of the back and handed it to my mother. Part of me still wishes I had done this last one thing for my baby. At the time, I was afraid of falling. Not just by tripping. I was afraid my whole being would break.

The days leading up to the moment Mom put the casket down were horrendous. I lost my child and nearly lost my husband in the process. People made the effort to comfort me, give me advice. Even if a person has had a miscarriage or stillbirth cannot understand completely what goes through the mind of another.

His cousin had told me to do a c-section. He told me how many losses she’d had. I didn’t give one ounce about what she had to say. Not once was she twenty-eight weeks along. My baby was a fully formed human being when I held her breathless body in my aching arms. No one has lived my life. No other person could feel what I was feeling in that one instant that changed my life.