Before my father recently passed away, I wrote a novel. I haven’t released it yet—because honestly, I’m still grieving. The grief hits hard, unexpectedly, and often. But I wanted to share something vulnerable with this community, because I know I’m not the only one who’s poured pain into pages.
The book is called Poison Ivy: Scrubbed in to Kill, and it might be the most emotionally draining, technically difficult, and creatively fulfilling thing I’ve ever written.
It’s a psychological horror/medical thriller—a little bit Dexter, a little bit House. A lot of research, months of editing, and several hours a day rewriting until I physically couldn’t keep going.
It’s not perfect. But it’s honest.
This story broke me.
It took me deep into themes of justice, vengeance, obsession, and surgical violence.
It’s sharp. Disturbing. A little poetic. And definitely not for everyone.
But it’s mine. And it’s finally ready.
I’ll be publishing soon, but I wanted to take a moment and say: if you’ve ever written through grief, I see you. If you’ve created something that almost consumed you, I get it. If you’ve dreamed of putting your darkness on the page—I’m right there with you.
Thanks for reading. I’m terrified and proud at the same time. 💔
🩺 Poison Ivy: Scrubbed in to Kill
Coming soon.
by Medicalmom1