I have always written stories for as long as I can remember. I wrote my first book when I was five years old. It was called ‘The Goodies’ and it was a short story about driving to the shops to get some milk. Needless to say, it was a very short book and hardly the page turner. It was also illustrated in orange felt tip pen because it was the only felt tip pen left in the pencil case that wasn’t dried up and useless.
My first attempt at writing romance was in high school when my athletic ambitions were replaced with Sunday sessions in my bestfriends bedroom, smoking cigarettes and writing smut about the hot guy at school. They were dreadfully crude stories. Lots of awkward fumblings in the dark or a series of awful first kisses. They were also very straight forward. Very straight to the point. Because I didn’t have a clue about what I was talking about. And I used terrible words such as “shaft”, “her moist warmth” and “velvet cavern”…yeah, they were awesome!
In following years I wisely gave up the cigarettes, became Mum to the “best kid in the world” and married a vastly understanding and supportive soul who tolerated the complete absence of my inner domestic goddess. Through a lot of trial and error, I think I may have started to write stories other people would want to read … without an orange felt tip pen in sight…
Oh … and you can find me in Australia.
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