I made it safely out of the kitchen without burning myself. Dirty rice prepped for dinner, the Cajun shrimp awaits. I have multiple scars from my cooking escapades–another passion of mine. I’ve nearly lopped off my thumb twice.

My love for writing started by accident. My daughter said “let’s write a story” just for the fun of it. Well I did, and it unlocked something inside my brain, unleashing a monster untamed. Since that day, I’ve written six and started my seventh, and The Heartbeat Journal holds a special place in my heart. It’s full of pieces of me. Pieces of a friend who lost her brother too soon. It began as a sweet story and turned into something sexier than anything I’d ever written before. An adventure to remember. Here is an excerpt from The Heartbeat Journal available in digital format only. Everly is running for her life…

She grabbed handfuls of carpet, gaining momentum, and pulled herself through the back door, shooting out into the crisp air. The sun was beginning to set, her eyes saw nothing but dark trees, no street lights and no visible roads. Her breath stung her throat as it slipped past her dry tongue and paralyzed vocal cords, but air was more important than screaming. She had to gain some distance first without passing out.
Somebody help me please. She prayed to the sky, the clouds, the setting sun. God had abandoned her. Birds flew out of the trees at the sound of her frantic beating footsteps and it made her mad. They could out her to him. The thought made her run faster. She didn’t look back once until she lost all the feeling in her legs and stumbled into a pile of leaves, crying. She dug into them and covered herself up, breathing slower now.
Adventures suck. She wanted her bed, her bunny, and her little garden of marigolds. Her head full of fuzz felt light like a balloon. Just for a minute. I’ll rest my eyes for only a minute.