Susan's biography

I am a “woman of a certain age” who stays young by living with teenagers and dogs in a small town on the East Coast. My days are spent writing, with frequent interruptions for chauffeuring, laundry, cleaning up hair balls, and tending to my poison ivy garden. My hobbies are sleeping, good music, walking in the sunshine, and enjoying a couple of margaritas with my best friend, Arleen, whenever possible.

I believe in love – and I don’t say that because I happen to write romances for a living. I am blessed to love and be loved by my family, friends, and a wonderful man who adores me for all that I am. I also have readers who love my stories. Talk about happily ever after!

I grew up in the Cincinnati suburb of Milford, Ohio and spent my formative years in the cineplex, the mall, the drive-in, and the convertible MG of some guy named Gary. My mother claims I was destined to be a writer. As a kindergartner, I reported that I’d just seen a giraffe, elephant and rhinoceros at the bus stop. When Mom told me I was a good storyteller, I assured her that it was not a story, but the absolute truth! (See mediocre journalism career summary below…)

I wrote for my high school newspaper but never made it into a position of authority – the journalism adviser told me I was "too spasmodic" to be editor. I also starred in drama club plays and hosted excellent cast parties. I earned a scholarship to be a summer foreign exchange student in Japan, then headed off to college at Northwestern University, events that forced me to conclude that there was, in fact, life outside Southwestern Ohio. Why wasn’t I informed?

I look back upon my college years in Chicago and marvel that I was able to graduate and still have such a fine time. In 1983, I walked away with a degree in journalism and a minor in Japanese language and sociology, just in time for the recession. Because the only job I could find was at a Chicago phone sex service, I decided to go back for my master’s degree. I know, I know. Hindsight is 20/20.

My first job out of grad school was as a staff reporter at The Daily Southtown, on Chicago’s Southwest Side. I was a somewhat snobbish, ridiculously enthusiastic young woman promptly put in my place by the mean streets of Bridgeport and Burbank. My sincere thanks go out to the Southtown boys who teased me mercilessly, gave me a nickname that should have resulted in legal action, and showed me how to get along with cops, politicians and city editors – in other words, generally ruined me for polite society thereafter. Thanks guys. I owe you.

Next, I did an internship at the Chicago Tribune, where I learned the nasty truth about gender politics and static electricity-related wardrobe malfunctions. I then packed up my red Dodge Omni and my cat and drove cross-country to work for two years at the Albuquerque Tribune. New Mexico is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen, and it will always be special to me. Maybe someday I’ll move back there. But, at the time, I missed my boyfriend too much and decided to move back to Chicago. I spent the next year working in corporate public relations for a company that has since, shall we say, hit the skids. It was not entirely my fault. When my boyfriend finished medical school, we moved together to Indianapolis for his residency and my job at the now-defunct Indianapolis News (also not my fault.) We got married in September 1989. Unfortunately, Hurricane Hugo destroyed our honeymoon hotel in the Virgin Islands (truly, not my fault.) Then our luggage got lost somewhere between the US mainland and Puerto Rico, and we spent our wedding night in fleabag motel near the Atlanta airport that housed the overflow from a nearby Army base. This made us pause and ask, "Mmm…is this some kind of omen?" Apparently, it was.

My new husband joined a small-town medical practice in Maryland about an hour from Baltimore/Washington and I went to work for a member of Congress. In my opinion, there are some things a person simply does not need to know in order to lead a happy life, such as how hot dogs are made and what really goes on behind closed doors at the U.S. Capitol. I ran from that job before delivering my first child. (Okay – I waddled.) My kids – now ages sixteen and fourteen – are the most important part of my life. However, I was never strong enough to be a full-time mom and I resorted to a variety of part-time jobs in an effort to stay partially sane during their childhoods. These jobs included fundraiser for a symphony orchestra, communications consultant, freelance journalist, horse stall mucker, and painted furniture artist. I started writing full time in 2000, because I’d always told myself I’d have my first novel written by the time I was 40 and I was going to turn 40 that next year. I did it! In fact, I’d written almost three books by the time I turned 40 and got my first book deal soon after.

Life sure is an adventure. As my ole buddy Francois de la Rochefoucauld always says, “The only constant in life is change.” Of course, he said those words in French more than three hundred years ago and he doesn’t say much of anything these days because he’s, well . . . dead, but if that doesn’t illustrate my point I don’t know what does! So, my kids continue to grow up. I’ve been divorced for several years (see omen above.) I am now a New York Times bestselling author. And I’ll be 49 next spring. I feel honored to have been given the opportunity to write nine novels and three novellas since 2002, which have been translated into over a dozen languages, all the while meeting loyal readers from all over the world! It’s a wonderful life, indeed.