It all began when I was five or six years old and saw a boy peeing on a tree. I remember being outrageously jealous. Not because he had something down there that I didn’t, but rather because he could pee standing up and I couldn’t. I know this for a fact because I tried, and trust me, it wasn’t easy having to explain to my mother why my shorts and socks were wet when I went in from the neighborhood playground. I never tried to pee on a tree again, but I did grow up playing with matchbox cars instead of Barbie dolls. By the time adolescence rolled around, I could outrun and out-climb all the boys my age. So when the idea for SOUTHERN FATALITY came to me, I decided to relive my tomboy days by writing from the first person male point of view. A mystery, tough guy action adventure, it was so much fun to write as I tried to think and talk and fight like a guy. But then something strange happened. The character woke me up in the middle of the night and told me she was a woman. So I gave her a sex…