The Easter Bunny Had Teeth: How My First Book Accidentally Traumatized (and Comforted) My Children

Every writer starts somewhere.
I started with a bedtime story that got out of hand.

My kids wanted to know why the Easter Bunny existed — how he got his job, where the eggs came from, and, more importantly, whether he could climb stairs.
(This last part was critical. They refused to sleep downstairs because, and I quote, “His feet are too big for stairs.”)

So I told them a story.
A darkly comforting, slightly deranged tale that made sense in the way only a desperate parent’s midnight logic can.

That story became The Bunny Book.
My first published work, born out of sleep deprivation and mythological panic.

My husband’s review: “You need to flesh it out a little more.”
My coworker: “Wow. That was unexpectedly dark.”
My mother: “I wish you’d write the type of books I like.”

So naturally, I knew I was on the right track.

It’s the origin of the Houses & Humans tone — a mix of humor, horror, and heart. The story that taught me bedtime myths and emotional coping skills share the same roots: fear, wonder, and the desperate need to make sense of chaos.

If you’ve ever stayed awake wondering how something magical could also be a little bit terrifying — this one’s for you.