Summary: Annie Slocum is a bisexual woman struggling to make a living as a freelance writer. Stuck in a rut, she feels bored with her career, her relationships—her life. A chance meeting with Siobhán at a gallery adds a bright spark to her dull life. Siobhán Murray is a lesbian Irish painter living in Boston. She loves her career, loves her life, but she’s missing the one piece that will make her life complete—a partner. She falls hard for Annie and is delighted to realize An

Coming June 30, 2017 – A Brighter Palette A little over two years ago, I wrote this flash fic.  I’ve been wanting to tell Annie and Siobhán’s story ever since. I’ve been working hard on it this spring and I’m excited to announce that I will be releasing the first book in their series, “A Brighter Palette” on June 30.  The series will be the “Color” series. “A Brighter Palette” will include their first meeting in Boston at an art gallery and the beginning of their relationship

Kendra walked slowly along the driveway. Gravel dug into the bottoms of her feet, painting the rock with red with every step she took. The sounds of taunts still rang in her ears. “Freak.” “Dyke.” “Psycho!” “Killer!” She’d heard them all before. Had been hearing the first three most of her life, although they’d gotten progressively nastier in the past six months. And it hurt worse when she’d tried so hard to be normal tonight. She’d dressed up in a pretty teal dress and let h

“That was your grandmother?” Lena turned the photograph over to see Jeanette Fleming – 1943 in beautiful looping script on the back. Amelia nodded. “Grandma was unique, to say the least.” “Apparently.” Lena looked at the photo of a young, dark-haired woman perched on the edge of a rocky cliff. Inside of a giant egg. There were holes for her face and legs—slender, shapely legs at that—but none for her arms. Bizarre. When she glanced up, Amelia’s face was filled with mirth. For

The leaves crackled under Angela’s feet as she left the paved path that wound through the gravestones. A sharp November wind snaked under the hem of her jacket and down her collar as she clutched a blanket and a book to her chest. She should have put on the royal blue knitted scarf that Michael had given her, but she couldn’t bear the sight of it. Not today. November ninth. She hated the day. For the first few years she’d worked on the anniversary of Michael’s death, throwing

The umbrella shone like a warning light at the end of the walkway. Against the sodden wood and dreary sky, the red seemed eye-wateringly bright. Or maybe that was the tears.  Dana wiped them from her cheeks, although the misty rain had long ago reduced all of her to a soggy mess.  Her hair dripped, creating steady rivulets of water that meandered across her jacket and landed with a plop on her wool skirt. Her mother would scold her and bundle her off to bed with a cup of coco

I’ve Got You Cara felt dizzy as she closed the door of the house she’d lived in her whole life.  “So that went …” “Yeah.”  Ellie sounded as dazed as Cara felt.  “We really …” “Holy shit.  They know.  Everyone knows now.” “Yeah.”  Ellie’s face brightened with a grin and she squeezed Cara’s hand.  “They know about us now, Cara, and they’re okay with it.” Cara stared at her girlfriend as the nervous tension that had been building inside her for weeks finally loosened and let go