All stories entertain, but the best ones inspire.
My books are action-packed thrillers usually written in a fantastical setting, but at their core, I aim to reflect our universal struggle for love and belonging. I hope they remind us that it’s never too late and we are not too old or too young or too poor or too different. We are enough. You are enough.
Be the heroine of your own story.
The Evolved Ones story continues…
Home. In tropical Southeast Asia, Rox has finally reunited with her family. No more dumpster diving, shelter hand-me-downs, and rules about living on the run. This is her chance to start over and to finally figure out who she’s meant to be.
But even the orderly streets of Singapore can’t keep Rox safe. The scientist who experimented on her ten months ago discovers her new location and threatens to tear apart all she has fought and died for. With her loved ones under attack, the fragile relationships she has worked so hard on repairing fracture. She’s tempted to disappear, but she’s tired of running. Rox is finally ready to fight back, and she is willing to sacrifice everything to do so.
The adventure begins here!
In a world where humans are evolving, people are more curious than afraid. They look for answers from a handful of scientists who try to uncover why some develop abilities yet the vast majority do not. For most humans, it’s an exciting time, but for Evolved Ones – EOs – it’s a game of hide and seek that ends with far too many of their kind disappearing, permanently.
Four years ago, Rox awoke without a single memory and the involuntary ability to heal. Speech and most of her higher level cognitive functions were working, but everything about herself felt unfamiliar. Plagued by insecurity and confusion, she leaves the only home she can remember in search of her true identity.
The team is finally whole again, but not without a few scars that even Rox can’t heal. As tensions rise between EOs and ordinary humans, will Rox continue to operate from the shadows or will she have the courage to step out into the light.
The Man in the Arena
It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.Theodore Roosevelt