top of page
pexels-michael-mcgarry-15335145.jpg

A Bit About Me

I like to think of myself as a late bloomer. I'm someone who has always loved to write, whether filling up scads of journals, or keeping up the occasional internet blog. Yet, it was in the second half of my life that I decided to take the plunge, to step off the high-dive, if you will, and into the deep satisfying realm of writing fiction.

M.E. Blaustone, Mary

Before committing to this dream of writing, I worked for years in medical billing, and before that, was a clerk at a small town toy store. I loved that job. Not many places will pay you to be a kid. Over the years prior I sold art in a gallery, worked retail in clothing stores, and even spent time working in a bakery.

I'm a pastor's wife, married to the man I consider to be the love of my life. We've worked alongside one another in ministry for thirty-six years, standing strong on the Rock of our faith. We have three amazing adult children, one grandson, and a sweet old dog named Georgio.

My husband and I reside in Northern California, in the very same small town which is the setting for my debut Novel, For The Love Of My Enemy.

Sample of work

From "For The Love Of My Enemy"

Adina struggled for words. How would she be able to tell her daughter the story of who she was back then? Especially after she had buried it so deep, for so long. She thought she had forgotten. The camp. The ache deep within her heart.

“Your father wasn’t the first—” She paused, and for a moment seemed to look through her daughter’s face and to the memories she knew she needed to face. Reaching up, she gently cupped Tali’s cheek. Oh, how she loved her, and knew she needed to tell her everything. She had buried the memory of that life, and felt for sure that digging it up would disturb the preciousness of what once was. Like breaking the lock on a treasure chest filled with a love so pure, so true. Once opened, its contents would vaporize and float away. Yet it was that treasured love that brought her here, back to her once beloved hometown.

“I had another love before your father. He was my first love.”

Tali’s eyebrows raised.

“I thought I had forgotten,” Adina continued. “I tried to forget. But, how does one forget their first love?”

Adina stared out the window through streaking beads of rain, to the rolling green hills beyond. “I could never forget.”

From "Nora Bright"

Maybe it's because I'm different. My eyes see things differently. My ears hear things differently. Even my skin feels things differently. Kids made fun of me when I was younger. Some still do. It's not like I'm stupid. Actually, I'm pretty smart, compared to some. The some are the ones that treat me like I'm stupid. Trying to explain the way I am is like trying to describe the colors of a sunset. Sometimes my eyes see an entire rainbow of color and shine. Nobody else sees it, though. Not like I do. It's as though in some fantastical way, I don't belong here, on planet earth, or anywhere for that matter.

Let's Get
Social

  • TikTok
  • Instagram
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • substack
Waves
bottom of page