As I get closer to sharing The Shattered Lives We Lead with you all, I wanted to let you in on a little secret: Elara and Ada? They’re stitched together from the hearts of my daughters.
Elara’s teenage voice — especially in those raw, emotional scenes — wouldn’t be half as real without my middle daughter.
“Mom, I wouldn’t say that. I wouldn’t act like that. This is how you should write it.”
She was right. Every time.
The magic of Elara’s childhood — the wonder, the softness, the way she sees the world — that’s all inspired by my youngest girls. And Ada’s quiet strength, her steady presence, her instinct to help even when it’s hard? That’s my older daughters, through and through.
Even the little things made it in. That ever-present pile of clean laundry on the bed (or the floor… or the chair…)? Straight from our real-life chaos. Some truths are universal.
Jake and Marcus reflect the energy and protectiveness of my older son — their loyalty, their drive, their way of showing up when it matters.
Kylar, with his misunderstood quirks, his love of arcade games, and the way he’s bullied for being different — are echos of my younger son. His emotional depth and quiet resilience shaped Kylar’s early chapters in ways I didn’t expect. the heart behind him — the quiet strength, the emotional depth— was shaped by watching my sons grow.
And through it all, my husband has been my anchor. He’s listened to chapters late at night, offered insights when I was stuck, and helped me shape the story into something stronger. He’s the one who gently asked, “Does that really make sense?” or “What if you tried it this way?” — and so often, he was right.
He even told me he dreams of the book after hearing a chapter — that it stays with him. And when I was afraid to publish, afraid to share something so personal, he was the one who said, “It’s really good. I think it’ll do well.” — simple, steady, and exactly what I needed to hear.
When I was afraid to publish, afraid to share something so personal, he reminded me that it was worth sharing.
They’re not reflections. They’re echoes. And their stories live in these pages.
This book is fiction, yes. But it’s also a love letter to the people who’ve shaped me — and to the wild, beautiful mess of family.
Thank you for being here as I get ready to share it with the world. 💛