India was born in Melbourne, Florida, when it was still a tiny little town, and was pretty much raised at the beach. From there her father moved the family to Summerville, South Carolina. He chose South Carolina because Northrup Aviation wanted to transfer him to California, where he figured his three daughters would wind up getting into trouble. As luck would have it, India grew up to be a hippie anyway. At age sixteen she sneaked out of her bedroom window to go to Woodstock. She'd like to say she made it, but she got caught before she ever got out of South Carolina.
India has been married twice—unsuccessfully both times—but the second marriage netted her a beautiful daughter, whom she characterizes as the best human being alive. She's happily single with no plans of changing her marital status.
India has a B.A. in Forensic Psychology and has been employed in social work for a number of years, working in addiction, community mental health, corrections, and most recently child welfare. She has been a storyteller all her life, a talent she shared with her tween friends in junior high school, regaling them with tales of "dreams" she had about Davy Jones of The Monkees.
India never thought much about publication until she became friends with her pal Sheri Livingston, who administered a Yahoo group for writers. By that time, she'd written her first full novel, a historical western that is a nightmare of point-of-view errors and inconsistencies. That book remains in a tightly sealed box in her file cabinet and will never see the light of day. As she likes to tell her sister, who helped edit the manuscript, "that thing should be dragged out back and shot."