Victoria's lived a lie all her life, and she finds out at the worst time: when her lover proposes marriage.Raised by an unfeeling mother, Victoria finds solace in her loving nanny, Shirley, until her unfortunate death. .Nursing cancer patients is Victoria's passion, seeded by caring for Shirley during her battle with the disease. But the hospital no longer gives Victoria the spark it once did after a muddled affair with a doctor, fuelling hatred her colleagues already have for her, so she applies for and is granted a job in home health care.To her surprise and delight, Victoria already knows her first patient. But soon it becomes a convoluted mess when lines are crossed and she has to make a choice whether to end the care for this particular patient, or end her job in its infancy.After a tragic accident, Victoria finds herself as the patient, precariously clinging to life as her family prays for her. The lies that have been told to Victoria soon come into light when her own mother refuses to give blood, even if it means saving her daughter. Why does her mother seem to hate her? Thankfully Shirley has left behind ways to tell Victoria the truth. But will she learn the truth before it's too late? Some have said that if you see me on the street (usually with a book in hand or a laptop fired up), I appear a cold, hard-fisted person. However, once we've spoken for five minutes or less, you'll have laughed at least once. That is, provided you appreciate sarcastic, self-deprecating wit.My first short story was penned in middle school and I was hooked ever since.I graduated with honours from Humber College and began working as an Administrative Coordinator for a large, multinational corporation shortly afterward. Quickly learning that the corporate world, despite the love I had for my job, is a slow killer of creativity, I chose to quit during maternity leave in 2006.Difficulty thinking outside the box soon evaporated when I received something that didn't come in one: my first child. While at home with the baby my imaginative energy got the better of me and my first memoir was written. It had been a dream of mine to write about my late father, who passed away from alcoholism in 1992, and it took me two years to compose a fifty-page manuscript, but I did it.After my second daughter was born in 2008 I had more fuel to write, and felt it necessary to voice the challenges and inherent gifts I acquired during my struggles with Scoliosis. Hence, my second memoir was born. The words flowed out of me with such ease I shocked myself.My love for words grew with each book I read and every word I wrote. I soon realized I had no more material to write non-fiction, which led me to take a stab at fiction. The next two books were such a revelation: it became more and more clear what my true calling was. The rest, as they say, is history!
