I was blessed with two parents who read everything with words, and took the television away from us when we five kids [3 girls, 2 boys] were quite young. After one too many times when one or the other of us said, “Get out of my way, I can’t see the TV,” Mom and Dad decided that was not the way they wanted their children to turn out. The television disappeared for good, and out came the books. I read Louisa May Alcott’s whole collection so many times I nearly wore the books out, plus anything and everything Winnie the Pooh, Rebecca of Sunnybrooke Farm, C.W Anderson’s books with the amazing illustrations done by the author, Heidi, Sherlock Holmes, Sara Crewe by Frances Hodgson Burnett, Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House on the Prairie series, the list goes on and on and on.

When I was in tenth grade, and my English teacher required us to keep a journal. What started as a school project turned into 13 spiral bound notebooks that covered eight years of my life. I poured all my teenage angst into them, added my job life and experiences, and then when I met my husband, I poured that into them as well. I still have most of them, and someday I will probably give them to our son so he can browse through his parents’ falling in love.

When our son was in elementary school, I became bedridden for the better part of a summer with a disease that no one seemed to be able to diagnose, and was given a bag of books to keep my mind occupied and my spirits up. After that first came a second bag, and a third. Romantic suspense, historical romances, regencies, these were the kind of books I had been craving all along. I went through them as fast as I could, and asked for more. They didn’t help me get a diagnosis, but they did brighten my days and helped me smile. Thankfully there were more where those came from, and I kept reading.

Until the day when—you hear the stories and in my case it is actually true—I read a book so awful, terrible characterization, ridiculous plot, and garbled writing, I could not believe anyone had published it. I won’t give the author, and I don’t remember the title (which is too bad because I’d kind of like to have it again, just to prove it), but the book was so dreadful, I threw it away!

And I thought, “Even I can do better than this.” It might have been more like, “Anyone can do better than this.” But I am part of ‘anyone,’ and I even knew where to start.

When I was young, my mother required each of us to read two chapters of the Bible every night. While I was reading, I ran across a scripture where the men of Israel could take a wife from the captives of Canaan, but the woman was required to shave her head bald first! So I set to work.

That became Temper the Wind. When it was done, I discovered I liked my little village I had invented, and wasn’t ready to leave. So I had to find a reason to stay. And that became His Brother’s Wife. It took several years before Miriam demanded her own story and found A Man to Marry, but the story of that village is now complete. I think.

My husband and I were threatened by our insurance company to get some repairs done to the house, and we simply didn’t have any money. My books were the only potential asset we had that might bring in some income and help us keep our house. So the fact is, sheer desperation made me finally decide to put my babies out and see what might happen.

I also got a diagnosis after 25 looong years. I have Hypokalemic Periodic Paralysis, a rare disease that causes episodes of actual paralysis where I am unable to speak or walk. With the diagnosis I have learned ways to manage it better, but it has left its mark in constant muscle weakness and very limited endurance. Since writing is sedentary and something I can do around the limitations of my health, it’s the perfect occupation for someone like me!

I grow roses, so all the rose pictures you will see here are my own. I also love cats, and have had several equally precious ones. My latest is a rescued female who surprised us by being pregnant, and presented us with three kittens. I found a home for two, and kept the third.