Ingela F. Hyatt

I was born in Dunnottar Castle in Grampian, Scotland, high upon the cliffs over looking the turbulent North Sea. And I was betrothed to my true love at the tender age of twelve. I remember the first time I saw him, riding across the plains upon his white charger, his armour shining brilliantly in the noonday sun...I swear, I feared my heart would leap out of my breast for the love he did instill in me...

(Insert record scratch here.) Okay, the truth of the matter is: reality sucks, and I’m a story teller and have been since the moment I could talk, according to my Dad. Whenever he caught me in a lie, I had no problem coming up with a dozen reasons why I painted the cat purple with green polk-a-dots, none of them true of course, but at least they were highly entertaining. It was at that time he knew I was destined for greatness... I would become a writer, a story teller who actually gets PAID to lie. What more could you possibly want in a career?

Writing has always been my passion, and it began in grade five when I was forced to either memorize a poem each day and recite it for the class, or write a poem and read it to the class. After reciting my first poem (The Cremation of Sam McGee) and hating it, I quickly discovered I had a talent for writing poetry and wrote about every topic under the sun, from fluffy white clouds to my big toe... *shudder* But it wasn’t long before I moved on to short stories, though I still had a habit of writing sappy love poetry which I wouldn’t touch now with a ten foot pole.

I was fourteen when I read my first romance novel, and suddenly a whole new world opened up before my eyes.But it wasn’t until the tragic death of my best friend, Carl, that I took a serious hand to writing, and completed my first fantasy novel at the age of 19. It would be a couple more years before I realized that romance was my true calling.

I LOVE history. To me there is nothing like knights in shining armour riding to the rescue of their beautiful, spirited damsels; of swashbuckling pirates stealing the women of their dreams; and devilishly handsome rogues fighting to the death for the lovely ladies who have unwittingly stolen their hardened hearts...

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