I used to think writing was supposed to be a solitary act — just me, my notebook, and maybe a cup of tea. And while there is magic in those quiet, tucked-away moments, I’ve learned something I wish I’d known years ago: stories grow stronger when they’re held in community. Whether it’s through a one-on-one brainstorming session with a trusted author friend, a late-night chat about plot holes, or connecting with readers at a book festival, I’ve discovered that building a writing community is less about selling books and more about finding your people.

Stories are more than words on a page—they are doorways. The Amberlight Valley trilogy was written as an invitation into a world of magick, memory, and transformation. Whether you’re reading The Christmas Witch, traveling Lost in Time, or uncovering The Secrets of Starlight Lake, each book holds space for wonder, grief, friendship, and healing. These book club questions are designed to spark meaningful conversation, offer gentle reflection, and stir up that sense of cozy curiosity that Amberlight Valley was built upon.

Every town has its heart spots… the places that become more than businesses, the ones that quietly weave themselves into your story. For me, one of those places will always be Arizona Mountain Coffee Co. With two locations—one in Show Low and one in Pinetop—this veteran-owned, family-run shop has been a backdrop for countless memories. Owners David and Heidi Brown have created something special: a space that is warm, welcoming, and just a little bit magickal.

There’s a quiet magic that happens when you treat reading as more than something to do while waiting in line or scrolling before bed. When you give it time, space, and intention, it transforms into a doorway… one that asks you to slow down, to breathe, and to let yourself be carried away.

There are seasons when writing feels like flying. And there are seasons when writing feels like clawing your way through fog. This post is for the latter. Whether you’re navigating burnout, low energy, high sensitivity, emotional overload, or just the foggy numbness that sometimes rolls in unannounced… this is how I write when it feels like I can’t.

Some blends soothe the throat. Others, the soul. One of my favorite memories from living in Colorado was visiting Miramont Castle, a 19th-century gem nestled in the hills of Manitou Springs. That’s where I first discovered the blend that would become a staple in my self-care rituals: Lavender Earl Grey. Since then, this blend has become more than just a beverage… It’s a balm. And now, you can make it with me!

There’s a moment in every creative journey when the intangible becomes real… when a story you've held in your heart begins to breathe outside of you. Directing is where that moment lives for me. It’s the bridge between dream and embodiment, and somehow, it still feels like alchemy every single time. Here’s what it’s like to direct through the lens of someone who still can’t quite believe this is real… but knows in her bones it is.

Let me start by being honest: I don’t actually feel like I balance anything. Not in the color-coded, Pinterest-perfect kind of way. More often than not, I feel like I’m dancing between worlds… one moment writing dialogue in my head, the next remembering I forgot to thaw the chicken. I hyperfocus on my projects (especially when I’m in deep creative mode like filming), and when that happens… everything else drops.

I believe that magick is a living, breathing thread that runs through everything… through God, through nature, through story, and through you. And in a world that often prizes speed over stillness, logic over intuition, and productivity over presence… returning to our magick can feel radical. Rebellious, even.

Bringing a story from the page to the screen is no small task—but when the story is full of magic, heart, and wonder, it feels less like work and more like destiny. Here's a little peek behind the scenes of our creative journey adapting The Christmas Witch into a film!

Over the years, I’ve come to see storytelling not just as something I do, but as something that does something to me. It heals me. It guides me. It holds a mirror up to the parts of myself I’m still learning to love. Whether I’m writing novels, screenplays, or blog posts like this one, I often find that my most personal truths come through in the spaces between the words. Below, I’m answering a few questions about how storytelling has shaped my healing journey… not just creatively, but soulfully.

Are you craving more magick in your everyday rhythm? If so, this is one of those posts you may want to tuck away, bookmark, or return to when the world feels dull and you need a spark.

Step inside the Amberlight Apothecary and discover how ancient brews can become vessels of intention, patience, and quiet celebration. From floral infusions to honeyed spells, this post guides you through the slow magick of mead-making—inviting you to stir with care, steep with wonder, and sip in rhythm with the turning of the seasons.

For me, storytelling isn’t just a passion. It’s how I process, how I feel, how I understand. This piece is a love letter to that experience. To the quiet magic of noticing. To the deep pulse of pattern. To the sacred way my mind finds meaning in ink.

A reflection on unlearning performance-based healing and honoring resistance as the body’s sacred wisdom, not a mindset flaw.

Step inside the Amberlight Apothecary and discover how herbs can bring intention, beauty, and deep nourishment to your self-care practice. From tea blends to dream sachets, this post offers soulful ways to work with plants and reconnect with your inner rhythm—one sprinkle, steep, or stir at a time.

This year, I had the immense honor of serving as the keynote speaker for Gateway Academy’s 2025 graduation ceremony, a celebration of creativity, courage, and the beautiful neurodivergent minds shaping our future. It was a joy and a privilege to celebrate this incredible class, and I’m so grateful to Gateway Academy for creating a space where magic and meaning thrive.

Birthdays (or Birthiversarys) always make me a little reflective. They feel like a quiet threshold — a moment to stand between who I’ve been and who I’m becoming. This year, more than ever, I'm finding clarity not through grand declarations, but through the small, powerful sparks that light the way. Today, I want to share a few reflections that have been shaping my heart, my writing, and my way of moving through the world.

Rediscover how revisiting old writing projects can reignite creativity and bring new life to current works-in-progress. In this reflection, author Dalea Faulkner shares how a college short story evolved into a dark fantasy trilogy—and why unfinished ideas are often the ones worth returning to.

This book picks up right after Lost in Time and carries the story deeper into friendship, healing, and hidden memory. The Secrets of Starlight Lake is about the truths we bury… and what happens when they rise. There are portals, sparkling aquamarines, an ancient artifact, and a lake that remembers everything.