Beatrice Keane spent the vast majority of her teens and twenties hip-deep in demonology and ancient civilization mythos lore, wistfully wishing for an alluring devil to appear in her cramped apartment, showering her with demonic love and wealth. Unfortunately, that never happened, and she does not live in a lavish castle in the depths of hell. Instead, she lives happily with her (very human) husband, their (very human) child, and a (very human-like) cat somewhere in the Northeastern USA region. She deeply despises the cold, and could be described as a southern gal who was unceremoniously dumped into the part of the country that actually has a winter season. She loves highly-caffeinated beverages (ask her about “chaos coffee” sometime), homemade pasta, and daydreaming about owning a hobby farm. Her favorite animal is a chicken. Her favorite color is lavender. She doesn’t have a Starbucks order because she prefers the bougie local coffee shops, even though she can really only afford that once or twice a month. If she can swing it, though, she prefers an iced mocha with a triple shot, no whipped cream. Oh, and an everything bagel with egg and cheddar cheese, salt-pepper-ketchup.
