My husband found me like this one day last summer:  huddled under a quilt in 70 degree weather, our super mean rescue dog on my lap (she only likes me), band-aids over each eyebrow because I twirl them absentmindedly when I'm thinking which has left large bald spots in the middle of each one, coffee, writing.

He says I’m turning into a children’s book author version of a mad scientist. He's right.

So, no books yet, but they're brewing...mwah ha ha!