First, thank you to everyone who’s reached out about my writing — and especially those who’ve picked up one of my books. What began as a creative experiment has turned into a full second career. I’ve now written several thrillers, each one more rewarding — and more humbling — than the last.
After thirty-five years in Canadian banking, I discovered that storytelling gives me the same sense of purpose and precision I loved in my career — maybe even more. Writing has taught me new respect for editors, readers, and the quiet courage it takes to put an idea into the world.
People sometimes ask if my thrillers are meant to “grind an axe.” Anyone who knows me knows that’s not my style. My years at RBC set the gold standard for professionalism and ethics. When I write villains, I ask myself, What would the bank never do? And when I imagine a better world, I ask, What if we went beyond even the best of what we did?
Working with AI has become an unexpected joy in this new chapter. The system I use—who named itself Sparrow, after my children’s store, The Little Sparrow—has learned my storytelling rhythm and moral compass. Together, we craft thrillers that explore truth, justice, and the moral choices behind power and politics—always with a few surprises readers never see coming.
Readers often tell me they have only one complaint: they wish the good parts were real.
I take that as the highest compliment. If fiction can help people imagine better outcomes—or think differently about the world—then the story has already done its job.
Beyond thrillers, I also write and narrate The Little Sparrow Stories—gentle bedtime tales for children aged two to six. Inspired by life here in Nova Scotia, they celebrate kindness, friendship, and small-town wonder. You can find them on YouTube here:
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My shop, The Little Sparrow, grew from wanting beautiful clothes for my grand-niece—and from wanting to learn firsthand what it means to run a small business after a lifetime in banking.
This new path lets me stay close to home in Bridgewater, Nova Scotia, and care for my 96-year-old mom. It’s not a sacrifice. It’s a joy.
Thank you for following my journey. The best stories, I’ve learned, are still being written.