I claim New Jersey as the land of my birth. Yes, I know all the old jokes about Jersey, but it’s got great beaches and Bruce Springsteen, so I refuse to apologize for having been born there.  I read Kathleen Winsor’s classic romance novel, Forever Amber, when I was thirteen (my mother thought I was reading Jane Austen), and for a brief time I thought that being a courtesan might be fun.  But then came Women’s Lib, so I decided to become an archaeologist instead.  Eventually, I earned a degree from Washington University in St. Louis, where I majored in Architectural History, with a minor in stupid college escapades.

Life's Little Detours: I was all set to head off to graduate school, but ended up sailing off to England to spend a few months studying acting.  Eight years later, I finally returned to the U.S. with a British husband and small girl child, Sidonie Gabrielle, in tow, having spent four years in London, one year wandering across Asia in a Land Rover, and two years in Singapore.  Among many incarnations, I’ve worked as an actress off-off-Broadway in New York, built kayaks in the backwoods of North Carolina, seen to the care and feeding of foreign dignitaries visiting Harvard University, and written commercial copy.  

Life's Little Surprises: In 2000, on a dare from the above-mentioned girl child (sorry, woman child), I wrote my first romance.  “How hard could it be?” said I.  Famous last words.  Eventually the idea for She Who Laughs Last floated up from the murky depths.  I was thrilled -- not to mention astounded -- when the kind readers of Romantic Times, fifty booksellers, and the editors at Dorchester Publishing voted it  the winner of the 2002 New Historical Voice contest.  

We-all-end-up-where-we-should-have-been-in-the-first--place School of Thought:  My senior thesis in Architectural History centered on medieval architecture, and here I am, an interesting lifetime later, writing medieval romances.  And my favorite movies of all time are the great screwball comedies of the 1930s and ‘40s, and I decided to try my hand at writing an updated version of same -- It Happened in South Beach -- thinking, of course, “How hard could it be?” 

See how it all comes together?

Nowadays I call Boston home.  During the baseball season, I can often be found at Fenway Park, still trying to convince myself that the Red Sox actually did win the World Series.  At night, I sit staring at my computer screen, waiting more or less patiently for someone -- probably me -- to produce at least a few words of deathless prose.  But if I have my druthers, and I often do, I’m cavorting with Will and Summer Lily, two of the smartest, sweetest, stickiest grandchildren on the planet.