I never wanted to be a writer.

Or never thought I could be. I really just stumbled onto it out of sheer boredom, proof positive that the television stifles creativity!

In 2001 I lived in a tiny 18th floor apartment in Germany. A French guy that I knew told me when I was looking for a place, “You don’t want to live there. That’s where all the foreigners live.” I looked at him and asked, “What do you think we are?” He wasn’t a friend for long.

So fast forward to the winter. The long, cold, Bavarian winter, and I am inside for most of my free time. I just can’t take one more German T.V. drama and have read all of my books that are in English, and have just finished a story about sisters. So I thought, Hey, I have sisters. Thus my first book was born. I missed the warmth and culture of the South back in America, so it was reflected in the title, Southern Moon.

Here I am eight, count ‘em, eight years later, having finished my second novel. Only now do I feel ready to begin the real adventure.

They say that writing the book is the easy part. We’ll see…