Tiffany N. York

Upon first glance, one might not realize I’m originally from Brooklyn, New York–until I open my mouth. Then there’s sarcasm and sassiness aplenty.

Because cold and grey days make me tired and cranky, I now live in Southern California ( and yet I still have a Vitamin D deficiency, go figure) with my spirited son, diva Chihuahua, an ever-changing number of cats, and two screeching parakeets. To say I write fiction to escape reality is an understatement.

Some of my favorite things include coffee (I drink it throughout the day with heavy cream), cats (At the moment I have 4), tattoos (At the moment I have 7), anything having to do with sex (I should have been a sex therapist), watching reruns of Friends and Seinfeld (which I often quote, thus dating myself big time), Halloween (I start planning for it on November 1), pizza (I could eat it 3x a day), shoes (I’m a major shoe slut even though I mostly wear flip flops), and massages (my kryptonite).

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