Behind the Story

My books were never part of some grand plan.
They weren’t written from the safe distance of hindsight, or with a tidy arc of healing already secured.
They were written in the mess; in the raw, unfiltered aftermath of loss, survival, and the search for truth.

Both carry the same heartbeat: they were written because silence is dangerous, and stories can save us.

The Year After Kahlia

When my daughter, Kahlia, died, everything shattered. She wasn’t just my child; she was my fiercest teacher, my wild-hearted friend, my companion in dark humour and deep feeling. Writing became the only way I could breathe.

I couldn’t find the book I needed when I was grieving; one that didn’t tiptoe around death and suicide, or tie grief up with platitudes and tell you to “move on.” So, I wrote it. For the mothers, the siblings, the friends, the ones navigating silence, shame, survival, and love.

“Love didn’t cancel out anger. Joy didn’t erase pain. They all lived in me at once.”

This memoir isn’t a manual for grief. It’s a reckoning. It’s a companion. It’s proof that grief is not a problem to fix; it’s a truth to carry.

Composed Through Chaos

I didn’t set out to write a novel. But some truths need a different kind of telling.

Composed Through Chaos is a fictional reimagining born from the same landscape — a house built on control, a girl learning that freedom has its own soundtrack. Kendel’s story isn’t mine, and it isn’t Kahlia’s, but it carries threads of the same questions: How do you survive what tries to silence you? How do you find your voice in the noise?

“He felt like a chord she didn’t know how to play; off-key and somehow perfect.”

It’s for every young person who’s ever felt unseen, unheard, or unworthy — and for the ones who love them.

Why I Write

I write because death needs to be spoken of. Because mental health deserves more than a hotline and a prayer.
Because grief, survival, and the messy middle between them deserve their place on the page.

If even one person feels less alone because of these stories, then it’s worth it.
If these books change the way we show up for each other, then they’re still changing the world — just like Kahlia always did.