One bleary winter, Poppy Minnix accidentally wrote a novel--a paranormal romance she obsessively typed out in five weeks. Years later, she still barely sleeps, has nightmares of exploding biscuit cans when she does (it's a valid phobia!), and writes every waking minute. She lives in Maryland with a husband who is far more romantic than she is and two delightful kids who kindly open the terrifying dough bombs for her. They are all kept busy by the best rescue lab-ish mongrel ever, and two cats who think they are dogs.
