From surviving a near-fatal car accident at eighteen to battling thyroid cancer on her thirtieth birthday: Melissa Dawn Brown has developed an interesting way of dealing with catastrophe.

      Fresh out of highschool, Melissa had just been accepted by the joint UTM and Sheridan College theatre program and the Brown family were on their way to visit relatives when life catapulted their pint-sized Suzuki Forsa into the underside of an overturned tractor trailer transport. In the early morning on westbound 401,  they drove up the hill near Napanee and into a thick dust cloud.

      Asleep before impact and unconscious afterwards, Melissa's spine, guts and head were badly damaged and needed emergency repairs. So things got taken out and put back together and pretty much healed accordingly. Given a full year to convalesce, Melissa began theatre school in September 1998 with an acquired brain injury— where she had to make a whole bunch of adjustments to her daily routine to cope with everything her banged up body/brain would or wouldn't do.

      And then, one fine June morning ten+ years back: Melissa woke up one morning with what sounded like laryngitis and a lump on the right side of her throat.

      Just shy of her thirtieth birthday, Melissa woke up to an ugly reality... and like most superheroes, she dug in and made her way through the holiday season with no ready solutions to the biggest problems she'd ever faced... so she created

    In the magical safety of mind-body, creative visonaries have room to play.

      Imagining her way into the darker parts of her neck and chest, Melissa decided to take a look at her paralyzed vocal chord. Trudging through layers of 'I don't know if I can do anything' and 'it's probably permanent', Melissa arrived at 'maybe it could.' And with that, crouching down to take a better look at her imagined vocal chord, she swiftly scooped a handful of seeds from her back pocket. Planting seeds of love, under her sleeping right vocal chord, Melissa took a deep breath. Now conscious of her surroundings-- still keeping her eyes closed-- Melissa started to feel something wiggle on the right side of her throat. Could this be? And then, when she opened her mouth: the voice she'd thought was lost flowed freely from her lips.

    Such is the power of SELF, when HOPE has all but disappeared.

News

Back in ACTION, baby.

      Crazy, ain't it? 'Member me? That was me-- back in April talking about what could be possible as per my missing bit of vocal stuff. Well, drum-roll : for the first time since that fateful say (Feb. 2008) I opened my mouth and sound came out. Sure, it felt kind of sort of how it felt when I was reuniting with body-consciousness; around the ten year mark during a #cranialsacral treatment. But... this time it was a lil' bit different... I couldn't quite put my finger on it, until I was sitting in the bathroom that next morning— lost in thought.

            My #AHAMoment went something like this...

      "So," I said to myself, "nobody asked me if I was sick?" I paused. I mean, I've gotten used to it, mostly. But I think the thing that made this gig so different = I didn't bring "I am sick," there with me. And that, my friends , is a crazy BIG deal for me.... That's right... I did it without a catch... I played HOST— speaking to a room of 40+ guests— and then I morphed into a vengeful food and beverage dame from Atlanta.

      Yeah... you guessed it: my voice got a lil' tired by the end. But for the first time in 12+ years? I was walking the walk and talking the talk... and I felt like my ol' self than I would have ever been able to admit in public.

      Life may be full of surprises— be they 'ups' and 'downs'— but the UNIVERSE always has a #possibility or two up her sleeve.
            Forever GREAT+FULL am I
                              Namaste, MDB

Finding my Voice...

      For most of us, the idea that we might wake up one day without the sounds we've been making since we were a screaming infant seems unfathomable

      Welcome to chapter one of my rather lengthy vocal paralysis... Of course, I never really let on how difficult it's been for me. Not really... I've always gone down as one of those super positive surivors of heaven knows what this time. Brave life soldier that I am, I'll admit that this sucker hit below the belt... I'd been training to be an actor for more than fourteen years-- and training to lose the self-conscious bits of my being a whole lot longer than that.

      So, back in chapter one hovering around my my-inciting-incident is where I woke up to the realization that the 'thing' they warned me about— and I figured my luck had already been crazy bad this far, so it probably wouldn't happen to me— had happened.

Newsflash: Life doesn't usually play fair.

      A summary of chapters one thro' ten of my-life-proper goes something like this...
            "Doctor, doctor, gimme the news... I got a bad case of voicebox blues.

      And everybody medical kept reminding me that my cancerous tumour was gone... and vocal paralysis is permanent... but maybe there are some exercises I can do to make it easier blah-di-blah-blah-blah I was playing this great big impossible-to-win game of chicken with the fates that had dropped my life into another big pile of I don't know what— but boy did it stink!!

      And then, as some of you may remember, I discovered a path inside of self that defied all I ever knew was possible. The muscles that surround my right vocal chord were listening to my every thought... I had but to ask. So, on the 1oth anniversary of the day I'd completed my cancer treatment: I walked out of #cranialsacral with more voice than what I came in with.

     All those years I'd been using #MySuperheroSurvivalGuide writing project as a bit of a coping tool. Desperate to come up with any way I could make sense of what has never made much sense to me at all, I was a self-proclaimed superhero on a mission... I was going to be damned if I couldn't find some way to my happy ending.

      Lucky for me, I've had an ever-evolving team of therapists and support staff who've been helping me since my car accident... When you've developed realtionships with rehabilitation specialists, they support you as more than just a patient. Following several of our conversations, Lisa Abbott-Moore did some digging and she gave me the name Lamothe. Dr. Andre Lamothe works out of the voice clinic at the Ottawa Hospital. He specializes in cases like mine... and there is only one of him... so I was put on a waiting list with little or no idea as to whether he'd be able to help me in any way.

      A whole year had passed... and I was finally ready to be discharged from the Cancer Centre. I explained that my family doctor had not made the appropriate referral and asked for his help. So... it was another year of waiting... but I had already sort of found the 'happy ending' I'd been looking for.

      Charting the course that had led me to reconnecting with all the broken bits and pieces of my body, I was crazy passionate about finishing the first full-draft of I don't even know how you can quality it with a genre... But I did it anyway. Written from a place and space where all I ever had was this crazy powerful experience and feelings to paint my way through story... I remember finishing the last page on a Sunday night. And then I looked above with a nod, "I'm done," I thought aloud, "So now I just need to call the voice clinic on Monday to see where I am on the list." ... At last, as morning came, I got a call from Lamothe's secretary: giving me a time and date for our first meeting.

      #Thankyouuniverse... I knew you were listening.

READY... SET... QUERY

      So... I'm done... My full manuscript is finally complete and I'm entering into a whole new stage of he game. One of the biggest deals for me, has been trying to figure out how to package this project... The words don't really make as much sense without the pictures and the story makes a whole lot more sense when I tell you where it came from. I based Super Sam's whole fantastic healing journey on my own experience. Where many of my peers are brilliant with fiction or up to their elbows in non-fiction: mine is a bit of a horse of a different colour.

      So... I can't really do anything about submitting #MYSUPERHEROSURVIVALGUIDE without giving some context. Not if I want maximum impact. This is more than any creative endeavor I've ever known... it is #mysuperheromission plain and simple. My #SUPERHEROPossibility is all about sharing all th extraordinary things that life has taught me about the power we all share deep within.

OWC Meetup = All for one and one for all...

      I've been meeting with Averill Elisa Frankes' Ottawa Writers Circle for quite a while now; dabbling in #CreativeNonFictionCritigues + #PictureBookCritiques + #PoetryCircles + #WritersReadingGroups over the years... and then, I got a little lost in #lifecircumstance. Fell off the wagon post-surgery last summer.

      So I've been thinking about hooking up with fellow writers for a while now... and so.. I did it... Finally. When I couldn't figure out how to fit my original writing project into a critique group and it felt like I was at a bit of a dead end? What'd I do? I went to the Ottawa Writer's Circle Weekend Afternoon Social Mixer. I had no idea who'd really be there or what I'd come away with but I went anyway. Plus, I brought Jason-- my 9 year partner in crime-- along for the ride. ( Mostly as insurance so I'd have someone to talk to. )

     Met a whole bunch of cool cats including, but not limited to: organizer Erica and newbie Beki. What was really cool for me? Mmm? Glad you asked 😉 This was the first time-- in all six years I've been doing this-- that I actually had a complete manuscript under my belt, before the start of any conversation. I got some great strategies from Ms. Erica Hastings ( my impromptu would-be writing coach ) about how I might tackle getting some feedback within the OWC critique and beta reader framework.

      Step 1 ☞ Get My Superhero Survival Guide beta read...

      Step 2 ☞ Me = coming up with things to tackle, aka stuff I need some help with...

      Step 3 ☞ Offer the whole thing to my critique team to give them a filter to work from
                + instructions re: feedback I'm looking for.

      Sure, it sounds simple enough... but I never realized that I could offer my whole manuscript to reviewers... I was always trying to splice and dice and figure out exactly how on earth I was going to pick and package the best 3000 words of the 7050 word bucket.

     Yeah...   I know, I know...   It's the latest + greatest + hippest trend in pop-culture right about now.   What was the last #superheromovie you saw?   Was it in the theatre?   Or maybe you watched it at home?   Well, whoever you are — which doesn't really matter — #superherostories can do what they for us humans no matter where we are in the world.   My latest MARVELous journey was following Paul Rudd as he became ANTMAN.   As most of you know, I am a #freelancesuperhero.   And I don't pretend to have a special suit or come from another planet either-- That's not where my brand of superhero comes from...  Sure, we grow up in a world that until fairly recently treated this fantatical world of comic book superheroes and supervillains as child's play.  Boy m'I glad to see that our current superhero reboot has given audiences -- and closeted dreamers alike-- something real and complelling that we can sink our teeth into. (No more of that musty static picture show where players were playing with the idea of #superpowers rather than a reality-- or living truth.

      So.... my #superheromission
           is all about sharing all the tools + tricks + stuff I've figured out           = for when life pretty much feels like it's going any way but ours.

      We humans deal with emergencies and pitfalls all the time :   big ones, small ones, fat ones, tall ones. They come out when we're least expecting them and let's face it: we are NEVER prepared. As much as we fool ourselves into the niotion that we're playing it safe. And we're doing anything and everything we possibly can to avoid all that's bad in the world...

      Shit is an inescapable universal truth and and it always-- I repeat always-- happens.

So, back to the story about ANTMAN... I'm about half-way through and it occurs to me-- around about the point whre we're looking at the world from an ant's persoective, or thereabouts-- that #SUPERHEROstories are all about looking at the world in new ways = A #Tranformation, of sorts, where something that has never occurred to you becomes crystal clear and stuff that almost never makes any sense gives birth to "Aha!" (Thankyou Oprah!)

      So from where I sit, becoming any kind of superhero has more to do with the power of INTENT than anything else... And imagining our way into a place and space where we can all work together to make this world a better place to be?

            Your #SUPERHEROPossibility

My Superhero Survival Guide

    Combining mixed media and art with a narrative poetic style that’s all her own, Melissa Dawn Brown beautifully characterizes the struggles and personal triumphs of a young person’s journey past the survival part of our human story and the FIGHT against cancer.

    Samantha Stanley's #SUPERHEROpossibility is born on a very ordinary day, much like any other day that came before or will come after. Sam wakes up with a lump on her throat that turns into a transformational journey of healing, strength, and personal empowerment... leading our courageous superly heroic imaginations into a space where miracles can happen for us all.

    🖋 #MelissaDawnBrown #inauthorwords...      

    Melissa's inspired creative exploration of what it means to be super human; addressing with the ever increasing relevance of humanity's evolving confrontation with cancer.

🖋 #MelissaDawnBrown #inauthorwords...      

      Over the course of ten long years, Melissa Dawn Brown picked up all the bits and pieces she learned over every stage of treatment. Weaving personal growth and self-discovery guideposts into her ever-evolving miracle-making reality: Melissa's superhero journey ventures far beyond wherever simply surviving cancer may leave us.

🖋 #MelissaDawnBrown #inauthorwords...      

      My Superhero Survival Guide 's first person poetically narrative invites superheros who are currently dealing with cancer and anyone in remission-- plus their famillies and support system-- to look at their bodies superly magical powers of healing in a whole new way.

   

      Superheroes in the making...

      Barb Stanwich— a mild-mannered mail sorter— and Maggie Greenlaw— a cafeteria attendant— both work for their local newspaper. Meeting at their office Halloween party, they both realize that if they are going to get ahead in the world, they need to become superheroes... now let the fun begin.

        ☞   Tell me more...    

  Goodnight Sweetheart

Weaving a musical tapestry of swing and big band era favorites into a love-of-your-life story that defies death, heartaches.... and time itself.

Goodnight Sweetheart,
All my prayers are for you.
Goodnight Sweetheart,
I'll be watching o'er you.
Tears and parting
may make us forelorn
Bu with the dawn,
a new day is born (so I'll say)
Goodnight Sweetheart,
sleep will banish sorrow.
Goodnight Sweetheart,
till we meet tomorrow
Dreams enfold you,
In them dear, I'll hold you
Goodnight Sweetheart, Goodnight.

    Inspired by Ray Noble, Jimmy Campbell and Reg Connelly's 1931 song... My fascinating creative journey delved deep into the origin of music that fed on the uncertainty of the everyday.

'GOODNIGHT SWEETHEART' was my way of painting a vivid musical portrait of true love — with the whole world at war...

☞ Tell me more...

Sitting on a Miracle by Melissa Dawn Brown

      In the summer of my eighteenth year (a little over twenty years ago) I was in an itty bitty Suzuki Forsa on the westbound 401 when we came up over a hill near Napanee around 1:30AM and ran smack dab into the underside of a tractor trailer transport that was blocking both lanes.   My takeaways from this horrific crash include a traumatic brain injury, a spinal fracture dislocation and a bunch of internal stuff that got all shredded up thanks to that there trust lapbelt saving my life.

      With my newly acquired learning disability, nerve damage, and scar tissue covering ever so much of my inner torso, I was left to navigate my way through young adulthood with an even bigger gap between who I wanted to become and all I thought the world expected me to be.   Playing my self-titled role as ‘damaged goods,’ left me forever making due. there was always something missing, or something I couldn’t, shouldn’t, or would never be able to do because of it.   Life as I understood it had become a daily battle with everything that felt wrong about my body.

      Nearly nine years later, I woke up one morning in June with a voice that was more like Minnie Mouse and a small bump on one side of my neck; add twelve separate visits to clinics and hospitals and set the timer to six months and what did I get?   A big juicy piece of thyroid cancer was squatting on my vocal chords.   It being December and all, I did my best to manufacture some version of holiday cheer but I kept fighting off all those unavoidable worries and fears of all the monsters I’d be facing over the coming year.

      Juggling my awareness that cancer kills people and the inevitable “hope I don’t die” impulse, I figured that conquering the innate fear of death was bloody impossible.   Let's face it: that fear never goes away completely until your dead!! Just in time for my 30th birthday, I had news that my surgery was only three weeks away.

      Following a restless night of trying not to worry about the inevitable, I reported for duty; suiting up in the usual cute little blue hospital gown.   And though I vaguely remember the docs warning me about all the potential risks associated with my kind of surgery, I was too enamoured with the idea of getting it out than worrying about anything other than dying.   So when I awoke, I was left with only half my voice.   That was the hour that part of me died. Honestly?!   It had paralyzed my right vocal chord… And now? It pretty much felt like stupid cancer had pretty much stolen all my dreams away.

      So with that, my cancer was gone and that had to be good, right?   I figured that I just needed to suck it up and absorb whatever ‘would be’ cost I incurred on the road to recovery.   The eight years that followed were full of silenced conversations with myself where I constructed a series of self-imposed barriers between me and the person that always wanted to be.

    Wearing layers of heartache and disappointed hopes, I resumed my creative warrior way of being.   Whether I succeeded or failed, it mattered not: I could still refurbish all these hardships as trophies of how ‘strong’ and ‘courageous’ I could be.   Dressing my weaker sensibilities in this brave new face— with little success at finding the ‘missing’— I eventually arrived at my truly inconvenient truth: the hallmark strength and courage I had echoed for all these years had been all but hollow on the inside.

   On my path to understanding my life and my body—and everything that was wrong with both— I’d faithfully followed the modern medical codex that had all but encouraged me to remove my problems from myself, where they’d all no longer hurt me.   In all my years of talking and thinking and feeling about all that was wrong with everything that was wrong with me I never knew the damage it could do.

    Little did I know that the human body is always listening… and it remembers everything.   It wasn't until I met with a local cranial sacral interpreter that I truly learned to listen to my body.   Hidden in all the noise that I’d mistaken for unruly aches and pains, my body was trying to tell me something.

    'Cranial sacral therapy'… ever heard of it? Who’d have ever guessed that the human body can store so many messages in its gooier parts.   The particular biochemical goo that I'm referring to provides the communication medium floating between two thinner filmic layers of fascia— Think plastic wrap, sort of.   This therapy can feel a bit trippy at first…   Pam Semple lightly placed her fingers around the back of my neck and it was like invisible hands removing my face and mouth and tongue for me… With the cheeks of a Cheshire cat and the involuntary postures of a brazen tooth model, I consciously gave up the reigns to see where this journey could take me.   When I began to describe my spine as a gnarled tree-trunk, Pam suggested that I put it right back inside my body where it needed to be.   The tree morphed into a tower of bones and nerves; connected to a lightbulb, at the base of my spine.  Just as I was visually screwing it back into my spinal column.   The bulb began to flicker as feeling that centred around my sitting parts turned itself back on.   My body was talking again…   How was this possible?

    “I think the only thing that I will never get over is losing my voice,” I said.   “Where does it hurt?” she asked.   And when I pointed in towards my neck the flood gates burst.   "Talk to it," Pam softly said.   And in that moment, I came to realize that every limit my neck put on its movement had been an act of love: she's been trying to protect me from and further loss or hardship.  “It's not your fault," I tearfully whispered.  “You can let go,” I keep repeating.   And with that, the tension in neck and shoulders all but disappeared.   A rush of sensation started slowly creeping across my all but forgotten parts.  On the eighth anniversary of my completing my cancer treatment, I closed my eyes and went inside. Walking through all the bits and pieces of my neck and chin where nerves had reawakened, I kept thinking “I don’t know if I can do this,” until I took the plunge: planting seeds of love under my right vocal chord.   Then something started to wiggle— like what your throat does right before you swallow— and then I opened my mouth.   The sound was wide and crisp and clear— my Voice?!!   My Voice—She’s back!!   Tears of joy swiftly streamed down my cat-like grin.  I’m still glowing: ever knowing where sweet miracles begin.

What About BO∅B? by Melissa Dawn Brown

Hooters.   Assets.  Cans.  Cones.  Funbags.  Udders.  Rack.  Tahtahs.  Titties.  Headlights.  Melons.  Jugs.  Boobs.  Boobers.  Bosoms.  Pair.  Gazungas.

      We notice them... and measure them... and then we get some help to push them up and strap theses puppies in-- n'it's all for the love of woman-hood, right?   In this 'house', a girl's gotta know herself cold.   Like abstract art, our bodies' tender curves and contours don't always go exactly where you'd expect them to go... But I guess that's all part of the fun of growing a body of your very own.   Like a virtual roller coaster— up hill or down, over and under— our sense of all that's deemed desirable in a lady gets pretty confusing.   Classical art takes great liberty with the bare and bountiful elements of a maiden's form.   For centuries, we've stretched them out and cinched them in; enlisting a whole army of manipulators that embellish and define what we like about our bodies, while they mask and distract from all else.

      Now I don't know about you but when I look down at the valley between my two mountains: I see anything but art.   For most of us, boobs have become a source of food and comfort.   They are childhood's porto-pillows; carrying tired eyes swiftly off to snooze-ville.   They are also something to look at, look up to, look around, and look through — you can't help it!   (That's how we're built.)   And, learning — by example and through mass mass media: " the bigger the better.   The tigher the sweater: the boys depend on us. " dialogue from Grease.

      As puberty beckons, we have our first exercise in training inflicted on us in the form of a bra.   ( And No, it doesn't really do much for us in the long run. )   I guess it's just there to help us become accustomed to wearing a holster, of sorts.   It's where we strap them in before we need to so we don't exactly know why we're doing it but that's what 'BIG GIRLS' do if they're serious about becoming real women.   Boobs go from being new found curiosities into accessories that we unabashedly flatter and decorate.   And, as we fully develop, the teenage evolution of the bustenhalter has us trade a bra that's simillar to one our mom still wears for a newer model ⃑ complete with underwires that do pushups.   And as we explore the ever-expanding world of braziers we learn things pretty much as we go.   Formal evening attire introduces the necessity for strapless fixtures masquerading as undergarments...   And periodically, our boobs will revel in the far more practical support and comfort of bras built for the sportier femmes among us.

      Of course, when one learns to recognize the truer size of one's 'twins,' we'll usually do one of two things: (1) go undercover: hiding our virtues under oversized clothing or (2) Tastefully exhibit our 'commodities.'  To promote said coming attraction(s) we'll offer plunging necklines... or we wear outfits that hug our figure in all the right places.   Come on. I'm sure that most of you know exactly what I'm talking about, right?   Admit it...   That dress you fell in love with that fits you everywhere but that lanky buttonhole that hovers right between those lofty peaks? Or maybe your tent city feels a wee bit spacious? Mmm?  

      Now — ladies and gentlemen— need I remind you that though your 'knockers' may a symbol of fertility and nippledom... if you treat them well: they'll tell you even their deepest darkest secrets.

MDB Does POETRY

Poetry has always been about speaking truths...

Whether inspiration unexpectedly jumps out at me from out of the blue, Or sometimes I just can't get a rhyme out of my head until all the shapes and flavors of life spill out onto the page that rests so gracefully under my crazed fountain pen... fanciful poetic platime's my delight.

    Built from interracting with the world around me: POETRY has been an outlet that I've favored through thick and thin. From my teens to my 'just-turned-40' (this year) I am continually learning in every direction that poetry can take me.

#PoetryinMotion ☞
I PLAY WITH WORDS & SHAPES & SOUNDS...
that's #mykindapoetry...

Tell me more...

IMAGINARIUM

Description/mission statement...

My Writer's Toolbox

( Here's where I'm offering up some tools I use to #getthejobdone )

Photos

Highlights from my ACTING Career

SUPERwha?

VOCAL SUPERPOWER Bootcamp...

Pairing my social media know-how with your creative hutspah, we can create an exciting self-branding campaign-- let's make it count!!

More

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•       • To provide analysis or valuable info used to improve the Service
•       • To monitor the usage of the Service
•       • To detect, prevent and address technical issues

Transfer Of Data

  Your information, including Personal Data, may be transferred to — and maintained on — computers located outside of your state, province, country or other governmental jurisdiction where the data protection laws may differ than those from your jurisdiction.

  If you are located outside Canada and choose to provide information to us, please note that we transfer the data, including Personal Data, to Canada and process it there.

  Your consent to this Privacy Policy followed by your submission of such information represents your agreement to that transfer.

  Melissa Dawn Brown -- Freelance Superhero & Possibility Creator will take all steps reasonably necessary to ensure that your data is treated securely and in accordance with this Privacy Policy and no transfer of your Personal Data will take place to an organization or a country unless there are adequate controls in place including the security of your data and other personal information.

Disclosure Of Data

Legal Requirements

  Melissa Dawn Brown -- Freelance Superhero & Possibility Creator may disclose your Personal Data in the good faith belief that such action is necessary to:

• • To comply with a legal obligation
• • To protect and defend the rights or property of Melissa Dawn Brown -- Freelance Superhero & Possibility Creator
• • To prevent or investigate possible wrongdoing in connection with the Service
• • To protect the personal safety of users of the Service or the public
• • To protect against legal liability

Security Of Data

  The security of your data is important to us, but remember that no method of transmission over the Internet, or method of electronic storage is 100% secure. While we strive to use commercially acceptable means to protect your Personal Data, we cannot guarantee its absolute security.

Service Providers

  We may employ third party companies and individuals to facilitate our Service ("Service Providers"), to provide the Service on our behalf, to perform Service-related services or to assist us in analyzing how our Service is used.

  These third parties have access to your Personal Data only to perform these tasks on our behalf and are obligated not to disclose or use it for any other purpose.

Analytics

  We may use third-party Service Providers to monitor and analyze the use of our Service.

• Google Analytics

    Google Analytics is a web analytics service offered by Google that tracks and reports website traffic. Google uses the data collected to track and monitor the use of our Service. This data is shared with other Google services. Google may use the collected data to contextualize and personalize the ads of its own advertising network.

  
  

    You can opt-out of having made your activity on the Service available to Google Analytics by installing the Google Analytics opt-out browser add-on. The add-on prevents the Google Analytics JavaScript (ga.js, analytics.js, and dc.js) from sharing information with Google Analytics about visits activity.

  
  

    For more information on the privacy practices of Google, please visit the Google Privacy & Terms web page: https://policies.google.com/privacy?hl=en

Links To Other Sites

  Our Service may contain links to other sites that are not operated by us. If you click on a third party link, you will be directed to that third party's site. We strongly advise you to review the Privacy Policy of every site you visit.

  We have no control over and assume no responsibility for the content, privacy policies or practices of any third party sites or services.

Children's Privacy

  Our Service does not address anyone under the age of 18 ("Children").

We do not knowingly collect personally identifiable information from anyone under the age of 18. If you are a parent or guardian and you are aware that your Children has provided us with Personal Data, please contact us. If we become aware that we have collected Personal Data from children without verification of parental consent, we take steps to remove that information from our servers.

Changes To This Privacy Policy

  We may update our Privacy Policy from time to time. We will notify you of any changes by posting the new Privacy Policy on this page.

  We will let you know via email and/or a prominent notice on our Service, prior to the change becoming effective and update the "effective date" at the top of this Privacy Policy.

  You are advised to review this Privacy Policy periodically for any changes. Changes to this Privacy Policy are effective when they are posted on this page.

Contact Us

  If you have any questions about this Privacy Policy, please contact us:

• By email: admin@melissa-dawn-brown.com