I’m Daisy.  I’m almost thirteen.  I have three books. Amazing, right?

The first one, DAISY AND THE PIRATES is about getting kidnapped by (modern) pirates and shipwrecked on a tropical island. It would have been great except my family was there too.

The second one, DAISY IN EXILE is about how I got expelled and went to live with my Aunt Mill in Paris (where it rains every day) and ended up involved in this whole mess with a secret code and these criminals who were trying to pass off fake diamonds. 

The third one, DAISY AND THE MISSING MONA LISA, is about being gifted a copy of Mona, which ended up being quite valuable even though it was just a copy, so everyone wanted to steal it from me. This one is my latest misadventure and you can get it on November 1 

I’ll admit, when I think that I have three books already, I feel pretty cool about it.

But the thing is, I don’t consider myself a special person. I suck at math, get straight Cs at school, am mediocre at sports even though I like them, can hardly look in the mirror without making ugh-face, and often question why anyone would bother being my friend.  I don’t even make up the stories in my books. The stuff just happens to me! 

Anyway, that’s pretty much the blah-blah on me.  But I do think my stories are fun to read and sometimes even funny. (Sometimes I tell people I have monkeys who write them.) But for some reason writing about my stupid life in this world of cray-cray grownups makes everything more tolerable for me, and I hope it does for you too.  

bisous,  

Daisy.

P.S.: The photo above was taken around the corner from Aunt Mill's apartment and if you look closely you can see some newly weds in the middle of the street, celebrating. I'll post it below, bigger, so you can see.   :-)