Cold Chills & Happy Tears: A Morning Reminder of Why I Write

✨🥹 My heart is doing little backflips this morning, and honestly, I needed the reminder that sometimes the universe hands you small, perfect moments when you least expect them.

I woke up to a message from someone who started reading The Mystery of Cerise Falls again yesterday… and they’re already halfway through it. Not only that, but they told me it’s giving them cold chills, that it keeps them hooked, and that they’re proud of me.

As a writer, especially an indie author trying to carve out space in a crowded world, you often wonder if anyone will feel what you felt when you wrote it. You spend nights weaving scenes and secrets, hoping they’ll cling to a reader’s mind long after the page is turned.

And yet, there’s always that whisper:

Will anyone care? Will anyone understand this strange little world I dreamed up?

Not just because someone read my book… but because they re-read it, felt it all over again, and wanted more. That hits different.

As an author from a tiny Appalachian town, with stories built from dream fragments, folklore, and heartache stitched into the hills—this journey has never been about perfection. It’s been about connection. It’s been about finding the people who understand that eerie, fragile space between fear and wonder.

So, to everyone who has picked up my book, shared it, reviewed it, messaged me, re-read it, or whispered “this story stayed with me”… thank you.

You are making this dream real, one spooky little page at a time. 👻💕

Here’s to stories that raise goosebumps, keep you up late, and make you question what’s hiding just beyond the trees. 🌲✨

To characters who refuse to stay quiet.

To small towns where shadows have names.

And to the readers who breathe life into every haunted word.Messages like this answer those questions with a resounding yes.