Growing up in Studio City, California, my dreams were those of the average American girl. I wanted to be a teacher, a ballerina, an actress. I can't remember what other vocations floated through my mind, but I have to admit, being a writer wasn't one of them. My love for writing grew out of my love for movies. I thought being a screenwriter was the pinnacle of success, so when I was 36, I penned my first screenplay: Life is But A Dream. I barely remember writing it . Not too long ago, I re-read it. Admittedly, it was my first effort at penning a script but it was poorly written, barely a work that I'd want to share. The 2nd script was better and by the fourth, I felt like I had the rhythm down, but alas, living in Northern California, I was a far cry from Hollywood. After all, isn't that where you sell a story to the movie executives, producers and agents? I moved from that area over 30 years ago and had no intention of going back. Also, I wasn't willing to sacrifice the time and energy it would take to sell my scripts from Petaluma, so back to the 'writing board' I went, where I decided to pen my first novel.

     Vegan Cowboy was truly a labor of love: my love for all living beings and the chance to write about my perfect man -- one who embraces life, compassion, faded jeans and Stetsons.