I grew up a daydreamer on the farm, Everclear in my tape deck, happily writing stories in my head—everything from twin girls solving mysteries to a horror about vampire badgers lurking in the coulee behind my house.
Then things changed. I grew up, met a boy… and replaced my writing with a blur of wild nights. Memories so vivid they still crackle with electricity.
My novels, Life of the Party and Dark Parts of Pretty, were inspired by those years—by the things I saw, the things I lived, and the things I’m still figuring out.
Writing is my addiction of choice these days. And this one? I’m not giving up.
