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 Miami, Florida

   
Virgin Gorda
British Virgin Islands

      Involved in owning and operating several businesses and raising two beautiful girls for the last 24 years, I always found time somehow to squeeze in two more passions. Travel and writing. Fascinated by other cultures, drawn to other worlds, there's always a bag packed for the spontaneous opportunity that arises. Whether it’s a drive to a friend’s the next state away or three connections in airports to get to the other side of the world, there’s always a handy suitcase at the ready ‘just in case’.
     This wanderlust passion started at an early age as I'd spend summer's away with my Grandmother in North Carolina. A sleepy little town that my father was born and raised, a town that wasn't even on the map then. I took swimming lessons in the 'cement pond' as she called it, and learned to do cartwheels on lazy summer nights. We'd sit on the large front porch in wood rocking chairs and eat homemade snowcones she made by putting ice in a cotton dishtowel and banging it with a hammer. Or vanilla ice cream in scooped out cantelopes.
      I learned to ride a bike on an old dirt road at a childhood friend of my father's, and would sit for what seemed hours along the edge of the pond as we waited for a turtle to come off a log. It was a time in life where there were still true five and dime stores, one with a wooden floor, and the drugstore on the corner where we were treated to rootbeer floats. A time in life that if you didn't see anyone all week, you saw them at church on Sunday. My grandmother always wore her fancy 'ear bobs', as she called them, on Sundays. This was the beginning of my love for the South, it's a different way of life down there.

    It started in North Carolina, but I come from a very large family that began to spread far and wide. My mother and aunts would throw all us kids in the car for a trip to South Carolina or further to Florida. We all piled in the station wagon, the kind with the fake wood down the side, no air-condition, and the back seat that faced the rear with a big full window that opened.
    After fighting over who would sit where we'd head south down Interstate 95 to visit family. Stuckey's was a relief stop and we'd all pile back in with a handful of Mexican jumping beans (that I could never get to work), and those cardboard things with the face drawn in and you used a magnetic wand to move metal particles around to fill in hair and faces.
    Then came the first 'South of the Border' sign. Big goofy billboards with corny sayings that even have lights and moving parts to gain your attention in the dark of night. After seeing the first one (miles and miles before you were even close), the anticipation of the next seemed maddening at an early age. Then the thrill of stopping was a highlight of the trip. For anyone who has traveled that stretch of highway, you know exactly what I'm talking about.
   Then, there comes an age when you can only get a thrill out of so many Sombrero's, fireworks and backscratchers. I had accumulated a child's lifetime supply of trinkets that served no purpose, travel games that had long ago lost their pieces, and broken junk knickknacks that didn't need to be replaced. So after I grew up and the 'fake' South of the Border lost its magical appeal... I had to move on. I guess I went in search of the 'real' one.

     My first big adventure was Europe. Quite a few many years ago (that sentence may sound confusing and its on purpose, it’s hard for me to imagine it was so long ago and I won't reveal exactly how much time has passed), I lived in Naples, Italy for several years and had the opportunity to roam from there. Days along the Amalfi drive, quick boat trips across the Bay of Naples to Capri and Ischia, and of course even further. In Rome, a Sunday mass at the Vatican with the Pope and a penny in the Trevi fountain that's supposed to mean I'll return one day. Sicily, Florence, gondola rides in Venice and beyond to Germany, Switzerland, Austria, Holland… many memories and friends cultivated along the way, both still cherished and held very dear.
      But all things must come to an end... and America called once more. Upon my return there was a bit of settling to marry and start a family. As I raised the girls, other duties called such as the responsibilities of parenting and all that came with it. School volunteer work, PTA meetings, field trips, and sports activities eventually came along. So with parenting and business to tend to, my suitcases gathered dust for awhile, but not too long. It just wasn’t as often I could take off on a whim. If the schedule was the slightest bit free, I didn't waste much time gathering the girls up and going.

      Then the Caribbean and island bug hit, actually whacked me across the head very hard and I haven't been the same since. I became addicted to sun, sand and palm trees. The mere thought of a frozen Margarita in my hand as I sit along distant shores, the palms swaying ever so lightly in the soft breeze, the crystal clear azure water… well… the mere thought of it sends me into a daydream.
      My very first cruise was to the Bahamas and right into the middle of a hurricane. The ship prepared itself by emptying the pool, removing all the items from the gift shop shelves, placing emergency supplies alongside the lifeboats and boarding up lower windows with metal covers. I was roaming around with a video camera and interviewing those brave enough to stay awake. We made it through the night with no problem, but just as dawn was breaking, the ship listed to one side and everything flew off the counters, shelves, and anywhere else it wasn't tied down. I myself wasn't tied down and ended up lying on the wall mumbling prayers to any Gods or Saints who might have been listening to me.
      But even that experience wouldn’t deter me as many more cruises followed. I’ve basically covered the Eastern, Western and Southern Caribbean and from the American Virgin Islands to the British and beyond. By boat, plane, train and automobile. And since my traveling passion has been well cultivated, I decided to incorporate some places I've been into my stories. Although the characters and storylines in my books are fiction and from imagination, most of the places are very real.

The world awaits, and if you can’t get there physically, I hope my books will at least nudge your imagination to think you were there. Perhaps even nudge you into visiting the actual places, as the world is too big to be confined only within our minds.

Please EMAIL ME and let me know if you like the novels... I even want to know if you didn't.

Safe Travels!
Alisa Allan