Born in Los Angeles, California, I grew up in the San Fernando Valley, went to college in Reno, Nevada and Lincoln, Nebraska, and live in Colorado with my husband and our dogs and cats.
I started writing for fun when I was in grade school. I’ve always been and still am an ardent animal lover. Back then, I wrote short stories about bands of wild horses and wolves that I would share with my best friend who also wrote stories about animals. It was just pure fun for the two of us. We’d each listen to the other’s “tale” with nary a critical comment. Needless to say, all of our stories were pure dreck, but we were naïve and caught up in the magic of storytelling. Later, in junior high school, I took a creative writing class and somehow managed to win the school’s contest in the fiction category for that year with a very short story about a wolf who led his mate and pups to safety from a cruel hunter. Emboldened, I sent it to Boy’s Life magazine and promptly received my first rejection. Sobered, I decided—like so many beginning writers on the basis of a single rejection—that I wasn’t really a writer and put my pen aside.
It wasn’t until I was in graduate school that the old desire to write fiction burbled to the surface again. By this time, I had fallen in love with the classic whodunits from The Golden Age of mystery: Dorothy Sayers, Ngaio Marsh, Josephine Tey, and especially Agatha Christie, as well as the police procedurals of James McClure and P.D. James. Sandwiched in at odd hours while I worked on my degree, taught for two years at a small university in Colorado, raised a family, and worked at various odd jobs, I began to seriously pursue writing again—only this time, writing mysteries in the vein of Agatha Christie. I love her lightness, her understanding of people, and the intellectual challenge she sets her reader to discover whodunit before her sleuth exposes the killer.
When I think back on it, the themes that have continued throughout my writing are justice, friendship, and love—and that all three have a price, but a price worth paying. They make life worth living. Without them, life is, as Thomas Hobbes so aptly put it, “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.”
From these roots, several years later, was born Lieutenant Detective Liam Farrell of the San Rosendo police.