As the mother of four adult children and grandmother of seven, Betty has experienced a broad scope of everyday life, infiltrating her stories with many of her family traits and incidents. She uses the astrology signs of family members to create many characters in this mystery series. One of her granddaughters is a Chinese girl who her daughter adopted from China at ten months of age. Betty published a number of Chinese stories about the child’s life from data, experience and the heart.

Adopting Culture

Chinese story published in Our Canada magazine.

A Tribute to the Chinese Community

Published in SUDBURY LIVING magazine.

Published in NORTHERN LIFE newspaper.


Published in SUDBURY STAR newspaper.

Three editions of story published.

1) E-zine anthology -TERRA NORTH/NORD.

2) Timmins magazine –HIGH GRADER.

3) Revised in anthology -CREEPY CAPREOL.

Thalia (newspaper write-up)


Too Far


Poem in Vale’s anthology – OUR LIVING LAKES.

Numerous other short stories in High Grader magazine and anthologies.

After the Fallen Leaves

A novel following her mother’s life starting from ten years of age in the year 1929. An extensive work, now in the process of editing, that tracks events through the Depression, World War II and life changing incidents such as sufferings from the devastating diseases of Tuberculosis and Polio as Betty’s mother searches for herself and what she thinks she deserves from life.

Fallen Leaves ... Chapter 28

A few weeks later after spending so much time with an infectious person, Eddie suffered symptoms of coughing but no blood … for awhile. The elderly doctor stated his fear was all imagination since he’d been with a consumptive person, said it was only cold symptoms and prescribed a tonic. Knowing how he felt and after watching his brother die, Eddie shook his head in disbelief. He asked the doctor to sign an affirmative health report and obtained a sizeable insurance policy for the times. As he felt his health steadily decline he knew he couldn’t hide his illness from his family or put them at risk. At first he tried to stay apart from the others but finding that impossible in the restricted confines of the old house he went to live in the hunting cabin.
Mary fretted about her cousin. “Ma, who will check on Eddie? We should go up to see him so he’s not feeling so alone.”
“He says he doesn’t want anyone else to catch the infection so no one is to visit. It’s his choice and the Lord’s.”
Mary got her stubborn look on and stared at her Ma while fighting back tears. “The Lord shouldn’t want Eddie to be all by himself when he’s so sick, maybe dying.”
“Don’t question the Lord’s way.” Ma shook her finger at her. “The family brings food up after church on Sundays and they pray for him.”
“Prayers!” Mary grimaced. “We’ve tried that route before. They don’t work. What if Eddie falls sicker and can’t call for help?”
“Your Aunt Sadie said he takes off in the canoe when they try to get close to the camp. They see him leaving.” Ma glared at Mary. “She weeps for him along with her prayers to our Lord.”
Mary looked mutinous. She thought about bringing him something but she couldn’t tell Ma. She needed to be careful. The next morning after a quick surface swipe of her chores, Mary ran with the dog towards the dam. She had wrapped some of her mother’s famous rum cake in a towel and hidden it under her shawl. Instead of a left turn to the dam she glanced around to make sure no one was looking and veered off to the right. She would know the way to their uncle’s farmhouse in the dark but she wasn’t sure of the turnoff to the lake camp. It was somewhere farther out but forked off to the left before you arrived at the homestead.
“There’s the turnoff, Athena. Let’s go.” They both loped along but nearing the end of the trail, Athena started to bark. Mary glanced around for wild animals but spotted Eddie leaving the cottage to run to the water’s edge.
“Eddie, wait!” Mary ran full tilt to the dock but Eddie had pushed the canoe out and jumped in it before she could reach him. She halted at the shoreline, gasping for breath while watching the canoe pull away. She yelled out as loud as she could. “If you don’t stop and talk to me I will break into the cabin. I’ll go and sit in your germs and breathe them all in.”
Eddie’s arm froze in an upward position of rowing. He turned to stare at her from the canoe and spoke loudly. “Don’t be daft, Mary.”
“I want to check up on you,” she wailed, “make sure you’re not needing help.”
The canoe floated in circles with a light breeze sending him farther across the lake. “I’m doing alright.” His shoulders heaved and she could see the strain he was making, trying not to cough while she balanced and rocked on her toes on the dock.
“Eddie, I won’t be a nuisance. I brought you some of Ma’s rum cake.”
“Mary, please go back.” He hacked a couple of times in spasm before speaking again. “The cake will last a long time with your mother’s strong dose of the alcohol and my poor appetite.” He put the oar back in the water. “Please, stay away. When I see anyone it makes my life here so much harder. I need to be alone but I want you knowing, Mary … I love you … like a real sister.” He turned the canoe and with quick strokes rowed away to disappear around the bend. She thought she could hear the distant sounds of coughing wafting back to her on the slight wind.
Mary stood frozen on the shore, the tears streaming down her face. She collapsed to fall forward onto her hands and knees. She’d seen the death mask under the brim of his hat. Eddie was going downhill fast and there was nothing she could do. She sat back on her heels and stared up at the sky, imagining the heavens watching her. If she was being tested well for sure she’d be found wanting. Maybe she was being punished for something but she didn’t know what she’d gone and done that could be so terrible to inflict this much suffering and sorrow. The little dog ran over from digging dirt to lick the salty tears off Mary’s face. Mary grabbed the wee animal in a fierce hug, crying and crying. “Praying to the Lord never helped my sister. And the families said lots of prayers for Peter. Prayer doesn’t do any good.”