Hello there. 

I was that  kid.

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You know, the one with approximately three friends, two of whom were fictional, and a backpack full of books that I would finish in a day. Reading wasn’t just a hobby; it was my escape hatch from reality, responsibility, and horror of girls who knew how to match their outfits (Hello,  A Bug's Life sweatshirt). 

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As I grew from teeny‑tiny to… well, slightly less teeny‑tiny, my love for reading only got stronger. While other kids were out doing normal kid things, I was busy writing song lyrics, short stories, and poems that were definitely dramatic enough to qualify as early‑2000s emo. 

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Then teenage years and adulthood showed up uninvited (How rude!) and suddenly my life was replaced with the ACT, college degrees, research papers, and the kind of work that makes you forget what free time feels like. Reading? Writing? Never heard of her. I actually started hated reading because I was overwhelmed by it. 

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But like every great enemies to lovers/forced proximity love story, books and I found our way back to each other. I eventually tumbled headfirst again, dragging along my other passions (like my love of raccoons in my current WIP), mental health awareness, and the ability to drink coffee at concerning speeds (Okay, that last one hasn't shown up in any books...yet).

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Now here we are, releasing my debut novel (see below!) and plotting future chaos, including a spinoff from my first book and my first children’s book. Apparently once you start writing again, everything is a story.