One door closes ...

Three years ago I wrote a book. It wasn’t the best book, and it wasn’t the worst. Just a tawdry little romance novel that I was too embarrassed to even tell anyone in my personal life about. I kept it to myself. My secret; my little project. I wasn’t sure if anyone would even read it, let alone like it, but It didn’t matter. I wrote it me. Just to prove that I could.

Secret Promises book sold sixty copies on the day it released. I was floating on air watching the numbers tick over the course of the next few days. As the reviews trickled in one by one, I read every one, sobbing as I saw how much people loved my words. Readers raved about this silly little novel I wrote in my spare time. They swooned over Jameson and cried with Jillian. They wanted more.

I wasn’t sure if I had more.

But I did.

Book after book, my readership grew. They were voracious. They ate through my words and regurgitated love and admiration across the pages of Goodreads and Amazon. They looked up my social media and sent me messages telling me how much my stories meant to them. It was everything I didn’t know I wanted. I gave a tiny piece of myself to the world, and they gave me back so much more.

Three years ago, I never would have guessed that I’d be the author of six books, a signer at one of the largest romance book conventions, and a name that people recognize. It amazes me. All I ever wanted to do was write. I never anticipated how far it would take me.

Today, after thirteen years, I walked away from my job to pursue doing what I love full time. It’s scary and awesome and I’m so excited to see where this journey will lead. But that doesn’t subside the bittersweet sting of a tearful ending. Dropping my keys on my boss’s desk hurt so much more than I anticipated. I cried saying goodbye to people I considered family, but it’s the necessary evolution. The door to my future is sitting wide open and it’s time to move through with both feet, instead of my toes lingering in the threshold.

It’s strange how much it hurts having your dreams come true, but even the caterpillar bleeds before it becomes a butterfly. I’ve lived in my cocoon long enough. I’m finally ready to spread my wings and soar.