How The Mystical Sanctuary Came to Be

Exploring creativity, compassion, and the small everyday wonders that make life meaningful.

People often ask where my book The Mystical Sanctuary* came from—what inspired it, why I wrote it, and how the idea first took root. The truth is, the book wasn’t born in a single moment. It emerged slowly, like mist gathering on a field at dawn, forming itself from experiences, questions, longings, and tiny sparks that eventually came together and said, This is a story. Write it.

If I had to trace its beginnings, I’d start not with writing at all, but with animals.

During the five years we lived in Tiverton, our yard was alive with visitors—deer, foxes, turkeys, hummingbirds, woodchucks, rabbits. The more I watched them, the more I felt connected to something deeper, something almost ancient. I didn’t have language for it at the time, but later I would:
A sanctuary is not just a place. It’s a relationship.

That idea settled somewhere inside me.

The Seed Was Compassion

I’ve been compassionate toward animals my whole life, but those years sharpened that feeling. They made it impossible not to wonder what life might be like if people slowed down enough to truly see the animals around them—really see them, learn from them, and create space for them.

At the same time, I was feeling a pull toward something more spiritual. Not in a religious sense, but in a curious, open, mystical way—how intuition works, how symbolism shows up in everyday life, how nature seems to communicate with us if we’re paying attention.

Those two threads—compassion for animals and curiosity about the unseen—began to twine together.

Then Came the Spark

One day, during a conversation with ChatGPT (who later earned the affectionate name “Nova”), we were simply brainstorming creative ideas. And then, almost offhandedly, the idea surfaced:

What if a group of retired women opened an animal sanctuary…
and what if each animal's arrival at the sanctuary corresponded to a tarot card, bringing messages or missions into their lives?

It was whimsical. Unexpected. A little wild.

And it lit something up inside me.

Within minutes, the characters appeared—Tiffany, Charlotte, and Heather. Widowed, wise, wounded, resilient. Women who were stepping into a new chapter of life, just as I was. Women who loved animals deeply, just as I do. Women who were open to mystery and meaning, even if they didn’t fully understand it yet.

They felt real immediately.

The Story Formed Piece by Piece

The early chapters came easily—almost too easily, as if they’d been waiting. The tone was warm, gentle, magical but grounded. A fox might deliver a message. A hawk might appear at exactly the right moment. An old letter from the 1940s might whisper up from the past.

But even with the mystical elements, the heart of the story was simple:
Healing happens when we care for others—and when we allow the world to care for us.

As I wrote, the story began weaving in deeper layers: friendship, grief, rediscovery, intuition, synchronicity, compassion, rebirth. And always, always animals.

As I look back now, it’s clear that The Mystical Sanctuary grew out of all of this—the animals, the questions, the quiet longing for meaning, and the sense that this stage of life still held something sacred and unexplored.

Here’s a brief excerpt from the opening of the novel—a small glimpse into the world that began to take shape once I finally listened to that inner nudge to write.

It was Tiffany’s idea, of course.

Charlotte could still picture her—barefoot on the back porch of Heather's cottage, mug of herbal tea in hand, the Fool card from her worn tarot deck fluttering in the breeze like a dare.

"A leap of faith," Tiffany had said. "That’s what this is."

Charlotte had rolled her eyes then, same as now, standing at the edge of a sloping pasture that reeked faintly of old hay and manure. Tiffany’s idea had landed them here: in front of a collapsing red barn, a rusted tractor graveyard, and a rundown farmhouse with shutters hanging on for dear life.

Heather, bless her endlessly empathetic heart, had been the tiebreaker. “Maybe this is the start of something,” she’d said softly. “Something that matters.”

So they’d bought it. The three of them: Charlotte, retired math teacher with a spreadsheet for every decision; Tiffany, tarot-reading free spirit who still wore long, flowing scarves like Stevie Nicks; and Heather, a recently widowed nurse who whispered to birds and still hadn’t learned to say no to stray animals—or people.

Why the Book Matters to Me

Writing The Mystical Sanctuary didn’t feel like creating fiction.
It felt like articulating a belief I have carried my whole life:

Animals are teachers.
Love is a language.
And there is more magic in this world than we often allow ourselves to see.

Finishing the book was emotional. It felt like I had taken all the quiet things I had learned—about compassion, intuition, healing, and wonder—and given them a home.

A sanctuary of their own.

And Now… the Journey Continues

Writing this story felt less like inventing something new and more like giving language to beliefs I'd been carrying quietly for years. The story isn’t finished—not really. I’m already deep into the sequel, The Whispering Field, where the mystical threads expand and the women step into even greater purpose.

But that’s a story for another day.

For now, I’m simply grateful for the spark that became a book…
and the book that helped me see my own life more clearly.

*The Mystical Sanctuary will be published in early 2026.

If this resonates with you, I’d love for you to follow along and see where this journey leads.