Libby Street is the pseudonym for the writing team of Emily S. Morris and Sarah Bushweller. Emily and Sarah met on Liberty Drive in Dover, Delaware at the age of four and have been best friends ever since. Twenty years later, they began writing together via email and telephone—just trying to make each other laugh. Recently, they've been busy with growing families and film and television projects. They're also each working on solo fiction projects, but plan future works together as Libby Street.

This is the part where I’m supposed to brag about all my illustrious accomplishments, but honestly, I’d rather talk about my dogs and brag about some of the things I haven’t done: I’ve never been to prison*, court-ordered rehab*, or splashed across the cover of a salacious weekly gossip tabloid with my ladybits on display**. I’m a Leo, a middle child, and a formidable Trivial Pursuit opponent. I read everything I can get my hands on, from the classics to comic books. I don’t drink coffee because, frankly, I’m high strung enough without adding caffeine into the mix. Here is the true story of how I became a novelist: So I had just started seeing this guy, and on our second or third date, he invited me to be his guest at a family wedding. Being young and free and a bit commitment-shy, I was about to decline until he casually mentioned that the bride was a successful romance novelist. Well, the second I heard that, I had to go. Being a writer had always been my dream job, and I’d never met anyone who’d actually beaten the odds and made the leap into big-time publishing. So I RSVP-ed, sidled up to the bar at the reception, waited until the bride and all her author friends uncorked the good champagne, and then peppered them with endless questions about writing, editing, and landing an agent. They were so funny and encouraging and generous with their time and advice. (And drunk!) Next thing you know, I had joined a critique group and was knee-deep in the manuscript that would eventually become MY FAVORITE MISTAKE. The open bar at that wedding changed my life forever. Oh, and the guy who invited me to the wedding? I ended up marrying him. All together: awww… I live in Arizona in a very cute fixer-upper that my husband and I bought in a burst of can-do, pioneering confidence. We thought it would be fun to embark on a series of do-it-yourself renovations. Yeah. I know. Turns out, replacing baseboard that’s been painted over 15 times since 1958 is not as easy as those Home Depot commercials would lead you to believe. Also, freshly-installed lawn drip systems and “helpful” dogs are a bad mix. Friday and RoxieSpeaking of dogs, here we have the indefatigable canine lawn maintenance crew: Roxie and Friday. Both were rescued from the pound when they were puppies. I think they’re Rhodesian Ridgeback mixes. (Probably. Maybe? Anything’s possible.) Roxie is the brains of the operation and Friday is…well, he’s very sweet. And so indolent he could be mistaken for a piece of furniture, which I consider a very desirable trait in a family dog. I absolutely love hearing from readers, so please feel free to email me, with the caveat that I am often on deadline/on the road/on the ragged edge of sanity, so it may be awhile before you get a reply. Just know that it’s not you; it’s me! Have fun exploring the site, and if you have any questions about my new book, my backlist, or finding an agent…I’ll be right over there at the bar. *Yet. **That I know of.

I've written more than 30 books in a number of genres: chick lit, romance, suspense, paranormal and young adult. My debut novel, I Do (But I Don't) was made into a Lifetime Original movie. I grew up in Mesquite, Texas, which for those of you who like livestock shows, is the home of the Mesquite Rodeo. Ironically, Mesquite was named after Mesquite trees, only none of them now exist in the city, which is about fifteen minutes east of Dallas. No, I don't own a pair of cowboy boots, although I do own quite an impressive collection of black shoes. My Dad is a third-generation Japanese-American, and my mom is a second-generation Texan who's mostly English. I went to school at the University of Pennsylvania, only I'm not sure how I got in. I think these days they only accept students who can solve String Theory. Anyway, I majored in English, and because my dad said "and just what are you going to do with an English degree?" I went to work for the school newspaper. After college, I spent four years as a newspaper reporter, working for an overly excitable editor who sent me running anytime the police scanner went off. I was working insane hours for next to no pay. I was actually sent to cover a grass fire on my 25th Birthday. Let me tell you, it smelled bad. I think some mice may have lost their lives. But that was about it in terms of excitement. Happy Birthday to Me. So, I decided after I had taken to hiding from my editor in the bathroom at the office anytime the police scanner went off, that journalism probably wasn't for me. I went to work for a marketing firm and discovered that most everyone else didn't stay until ten o'clock every night writing up their riveting story about grass fires. I also decided that I would take advantage of that free time to write some fiction. That's when I started writing "I Do (But I Don't)." A year later, I finished it, thanks to the help of my friend, Shannon, who wouldn't let me slack off and kept asking me for chapters. And that's how I became a writer. Except that it still feels weird to say, "I'm a writer." I keep expecting to wake up tomorrow and have to go cover another grass fire. I'm married and live with a blended broad of seven near Chicago, where I'm hard at work on my next book!