Part of Series
One minute ten-year-old Skip Quincy was riding in the backseat of his parents’ car, the next, he woke up in Little Angels orphanage. Within six months, he was adopted. Welcomed by the woman he learned to call “mom”, Mr. Quincy wasn’t a fan. Athletically gifted early on, Skip pursued baseball. He loved the sport and excelled, despite his discouraging father. Driven to succeed to prove his dad wrong, Skip worked hard. Under the guidance of his beloved high school coach, he won the coveted, most challenging position on the team – shortstop. Though plagued by self-doubt, Skip made it to the Nighthawks. He focused on baseball and relied on brief encounters with groupies as a substitute for love. When two women entered his life, satisfaction with one-night stands faded. Mimi or Francie? Could either one give him the love and acceptance he’d never had? Locker room language.
Author
I've been making up stories for as long as I can remember. When other kids wanted to be doctors, teachers or firemen, I wanted to be a writer. As soon as I could read, I began devouring books. I'd read anything I could get my hands on, but Louisa May Alcott's Little Women and Nancy Drew mysteries were early favorites. In school, term papers were my favorite homework. While others bemoaned the amount of work involved, I jumped in, burying myself in research and writing the document with care. Still fiction was my first love. After college and a degree in English, I fell into the world of advertising. After many years in corporate America, I went my own way. Working and raising two kids took all my energy and creativity. But when the youngest went off to school, all the stories ideas in my head came to life. Mac Caldwell and Callie Richards landed in my head and refused to leave. So I told their story. What started as one book has become six. Now I greet my characters every morning at six and jump back into their story, enjoying every minute. I'm blessed to be able to work at something I love and share my space with my husband as well as my beloved pug, Homer. More than 26 books later, I'm still up at the crack of dawn, crafting the tales of the people who live in my head.
