I realized as I approached my 60th year, that I'd spent two-thirds of my life making others happy: raising children, being a wife, a dutiful employee. But something was really missing, and I realized it was my "happy." Where had it gone? I had always loved writing, loved words, and definitely have used them verbally to the max; but, why hadn't I done what I'd always felt drawn to do. Write. And so I started. I started with a blog. Blog posts turned into a memoir, which was published as HEART BLEED: Letting go and stanching the flow. It's a very unfiltered, unsophisticated baring of my inner demons and skeletons. But, writing it was cathartic for me, and while I continued to blog, the idea for a novel started popping up like Whack a Moles in my mind. So I wrote it. It is called WHITE NIGHT, and will be released on 2/14/15. WHITE NIGHT is a story of love and redemption. After death. Is it possible that death can bring us the answers to the questions about ourselves that we couldn't pierce during life? Can we see things as they were, not as we thought they were? And if so, can that change the way we see others ... but more particularly, ourselves. I am anxious, it's my first fiction "child", but looking forward to feedback when it's published.