When I was in the eighth grade -- and dinosaurs ruled the world -- my friends would tell me their dream romances, and I would write stories where they always got their happy endings. Fast forward through many years of fantasy and daydreams, to the present day. I'm a full-time caretaker for my mother, who lives in her own reality, and so I have time on my hands. In those hours, I'm going back to my roots, and writing romances again.

I love to imagine a group of people and let them act out their reality in my head, capturing it in words as fast as I can. They usually talk and move faster than I can write, and they show up at the most inconvenient times, like when I'm in the shower, or the middle of the night. But I'm doing my best to keep up. 

I'm also trying to hone my craft, always looking for criticism and comments. My skin is getting tougher, and I hope my writing is getting more readable. Not to mention salable. I have my own dreams now, including being a published author, maybe even making enough money to support myself. Comfortably. But that's far over the horizon. For now, I just want to tell a good romantic tale.