My Bodie dog and Morris the kitty are featured characters in my Other Worldly novel series; they’ve been my sidekicks for four years and counting. Like my feisty, over-fifty protagonist, I’m also enthralled by petroglyphs, enthused by paper crafting, and enamored of pizza and pomegranates. Yet, unlike Rowan, I merely dream of a brilliant, super-alien mate (or two or three) who thinks I hung the moon. I’ve not actually had my DNA tested, but I did take (and subsequently pass) the Nevada Bar exam in July 2017. Several months later, I began drafting Alienable Rights, because it’s writing that’s my all-consuming passion, and my catharsis.
Years ago I self-published a coming-of-age memoir addressing the daunting double-standard society uses to shackle female desire. It was too steamy—and honest—for my University of Texas at Austin alumni magazine to acknowledge. In 2014 I published Raising Questions, a nonfiction tome pitting the Constitution against the Ten Commandments and daring to denounce the religious right in defense of civil rights. Too much of what concerned me therein has come true, but not necessarily come to light.
I now infuse my appetite for both food and issue-oriented discourse into novels, which aren’t entirely fiction, of course. The truth is most definitely out there. And reality has a way of making fiction seem quaint.
