If Cancer is a battle, this is my letter home, written in a fetid trench with bullets whizzing above my head and a tang of mustard gas mixed in the air with smoke and death. Dear Loved Ones, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. Thinking some pretty heavy thoughts about the human experience. About …
My first novel, The Sleepless Nanny, took nine months to write. It wasn’t a long book, or particularly complex. I wrote it for one hour each night, most of the time with a toddler on my lap. Second novel (Schooled)? Three months. Ditto with the third (Pwned). This, the fourth book, should be the quickest/easiest …
Trixieland 