If I were a character in one of my books, I’d be the optimistic one, believing the best and urging others to do the same.

She fixed a smile that she hoped looked authentic. Pretending to be content continued to be hard work.

The door wasn’t closing. Shiloh’s spirit opened up as she considered the possibilities.

She was returning home to be the wife of, mother of, First Lady of, but what did that really mean?

No matter how much restitution she paid with every word and deed, her blood-stained hands could never really be clean, even if no one else knew they were dirty.