Raised in a 150-year old farmhouse, Jayne honed her story-telling skills at a tender age, convincing herself and others her home was haunted. She wove epic sagas of buried treasure guarded by spirits of slain pirates and the soul of a crazed aunt locked in the attic pacing the floorboards for all eternity. It wasn’t until Jayne grew up that she learned of the dwelling’s illustrious past as a house of ill repute. Oh, how much more, ah, colorful her ghost stories could have been.
Many moves (19 and counting...) in conjunction with her husband’s service in the U.S. Navy did not accommodate Jayne’s blossoming career as a CIA (not the sexy “secret agent” kind, but a Certified Internal Auditor), so she needed something more transportable. Thus, Jayne began her new writing career penning romance novels. But she soon learned attempting to keep two desperately in love people at odds with each other for 300 pages was harder than it looked, and the experience caused her to overdose on chocolate. But to her credit, three adverb-heavy romance novels lay tucked in a dark closet, hauled through all those moves in the anticipation of a blizzard-y day when she will need to build a fire to keep from freezing to death.