I started out as a kid with a stack of scrap paper, a needle and thread, and more imagination than sense. I’d stitch together my own little “books,” filling them with plot holes, moral lessons, and happily ever afters. They weren’t masterpieces, but they were mine, and they made me fall in love with storytelling.

By high school, I’d graduated to devouring those pocket-sized romance novels you find tucked away in bookstores (the kind you can read in one night and still think about the next day). From there, I dove headfirst down the romance rabbit hole, and somewhere along the way, I decided I was done teaching morals. I wanted immortality. I wanted beautiful, messy, complicated people who lived on in readers’ minds long after the last page.

After college, I started creating those characters: deeply flawed, magnetic, and always teetering between love and disaster. I posted my stories online as a hobby, never expecting much until I realized people were binging them, losing sleep over them, and asking for more.

Now, here I am.