Posted in Thoughts

On turning 50

It is the day after my fiftieth birthday and I’m sitting here thinking of the years that have past. I’ve raised six sons of whom I am proud, I been married to my hero, friend and lover for twenty three years and I work three jobs I like. It’s not a bad life. Like the song says, “regrets, I have a few but then again, too few to mention”. I wouldn’t change even the mistakes I’ve made for fear that I’d loose all that I have accomplished. I have a good life. We’re not rich, we don’t have a fancy house, I’ve not even managed to get my novel published but I still feel like I am blessed. My life is, for the most part, happy.

But now that I am 50, I think of my dad who died at sixty six and realize it is only sixteen years before I am the same age. I feel a certain amount of pressure to prove myself. There is so much I still want to do with my life. I want to be able to give something back, to use my talents to benefit my family and my community. I want to get published but it is even more important that words touch someone else. It is my hope that I can make someone smile, that I can lift someone’s spirits, that my words make a difference.


I write suspense with a hot romance and a southern accent. I like strong characters with attitude and charm. Heroines who can rescue themselves and heroes who aren't afraid to love them.