Living down in windy Wellington, the true capital of her country, she writes all kinds of wonderful tales about sexy men and their wild ways. Fuelled with chocolate, she types madly about the tales of Alec, Max and a plethora of other Dark Angel souls. Her work has been said to stand out like Dogs Balls for its interpretation of the transgenic instincts. Hopefully one day, the muse will give her a break and allow her to move on to her own original work.

Family feed her on the odd occasion.  She does work but only when she can't skivv off. Old enough to know better, but wise enough to not give a shit, she lives happily away in front of her computer screen insulting all and sundry with affection.

Donations of chocolate are readily accepted...

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Agora Fiction Forum
Nuns With Pens

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