I grew up in the midst of car country in the suburbs of Detroit in a loving, Christian family. Through the school years, I hesitated to light on one area of interest due to a love of a wide range of activities and interests. During the formative years they were music and sports—mainly, track and basketball. Not able to parlay any of those into a career, I headed for college.

At the University of Tennessee, I not only discovered a major, but also my husband of many loving years. The major was Logistics, the husband was and is, Paul Schumann.

From Knoxville, TN, after graduating with honors, my journey took me to the outlying area of the Twin Cities in Minnesota. I worked in a pharmacy for a couple of years until the blessed beginning of our family came along. We—Paul, our five-week old daughter and I, left the cold of Minnesota for the heat of Austin, TX where the three of us still live with the addition of a son and a daughter.

Outside of faith and family, I have never been as engrossed and thrilled about anything as I am about writing. It is truly a passion.


I came to writing in an unusual way. Not ever having been much of a reader for the majority of my life and with my kids mostly grown I came to embrace a love of reading I had never experienced before. Always having been a sucker for stories about relationships, especially romantic ones, I leaned toward that genre in my quest for deeper insight into stories than television and movies could offer. I was hooked.

I read whenever I could. Waiting for dial-up to load was a perfect time, also during advertisement breaks of a show I was watching, and yes, I read in the bathroom also. You can laugh. I laughed at myself. It's pretty funny for someone who wanted nearly nothing to do with reading more than an article on occasion.

Then going about my life, enjoying my family and my newfound love of reading novels I was tapped on the shoulder one day with the idea of writing, broadcast plain as a radio announcer through my head. I know, sounds a bit nuts. That's what I thought and gave a 'Heh!' at the absurdity of the thought and went on with life. This happened on several occasions at times when my brain was no where near a topic or thought as such. I began to consider it, almost embarrassed by the idea. It started to seep into my everyday thinking more often until I gave in to the absurd notion.

At the beginning of my writing journey I did so in secret. I promised that I would give it a real effort, but if it was painful, like hiking over rocks with no boots, that I would quit and no one would have to know of the thought that should have never been.

When it proved to be not only not painful, but enjoyable, I thought, okay, so I like doing it. That doesn't really mean it's a good route to follow. So with this in mind I confessed my secret to my husband. No, he didn't laugh. I placed several chapters in his hands and asked him to read it, but only if he would tell me if it was junk or not. Before you say anything, I know what you're thinking. He's just going to be nice and tell me it's fine. That's just it, although my husband is a fantastically nice guy, I know that he wouldn't let me waste my time continuing down a path that was futile. After several sets of chapters he left me a note on one remarking that I should definitely continue because in his words, 'You have a real talent for this.'