An Accidental Writer ~ Writing was a tool, not a toy, until a stay in an ancient (I swear it was haunted) hotel on a frightfully stormy night straight from a clichéd novel full of howling wind and creaking floors. The night drove me to a bookcase full of dog eared romances. Sleepless turned to fascination. Hooked I read old romances, new romances, both sexy and sweet until my own tales begged to be written.