White Butterfly: A True Story
A tour-de-force memoir about liberating from an delusional childhood.
Manipulated by an undiagnosed mentally ill mother, Michele Elizabeth reveals the underworld she endured as a child in this enthralling memoir.
Everyone saw a perfect family. Many saw a young girl's privileged and popular life. Behind closed doors existed a mother-daughter secret even hidden from family.
Demonic ideologies, sexual myths, family conspiracies and fanatical religious indoctrination dripped into the fertile mind of a young girl whose only real dream was to be loved by her mother.
It's when Elizabeth becomes a woman wherein the truth sends her into a terrifying mental breakdown. What almost destroys her turns into a life-altering adventure as Elizabeth distills out the delusions of the past and ultimately reclaims her individuality.
A unique and triumphant tale of nonfiction--at once unashamedly honest, excruciatingly healing and beautifully written--it's truly a journey with the power to liberate others. 

“White Butterfly's greatest strength is…the ability to find out, comprehend, and ultimately disentangle our lives' truths from the lies and manipulations heaped upon us...” —Mathew Dry

Read White Butterfly

“…this book will take you on a wild ride of unbelievable proportions! Pick it up and chances are you will not be able to put it down!!!”–Brian Stuesser
“I read the book in one sitting and then sat in silence for a long time…It is a true account of an inspirational journey and very healing.” –Mona Brooks
“…I got a call from a publicist who wanted us to interview an author on the subject of National Depression Screening Day. I had a choice of having a medical expert on the show, but opted, instead, to leave the subject to Michele Elizabeth…”–Mary J. Conniff
“...each page of this book painted a portrait of what most of us only aspire to have the strength and integrity to do....live in truth. –Cristina “Tina”
“I have yet to experience the unique writing style of Michele Elizabeth.”–The Book Eater    

Prayer Position, 2001 Michele Elizabeth

Scene from Chapter 1. Leaving Paris. 21 years old. January 1996.
          “Your wine, Mademoiselle.”
          “Merci beaucoup.”
          Gripped in my fingers, I stare into the pool of violet watching my reflection warp and ripple. I inhale its oaky aroma under nose, and draw healthy mouthfuls, letting it sting and seep into my cheek tissue…swallow. The plane is off. I am away, cruising out over the sea heading toward Phoenix, Arizona, my estranged home. As we ascend into the dark clouds, I fixate on my black eyes staring back at me in the window. Gulp another from my glass. I face myself everywhere. Yellow tobacco stains on my fingers. Pasty skin.
          Stained teeth? Mother’s going to love my appearance…quite! At least I am thin…
          I lean back to force sleep. Her form appears behind my eyelids: an ivory figure prancing against the whiteness of our kitchen, batting her heavy lashes and whipping her blond head doing her demure Marilyn Monroe impersonation. In her golden plumed slipper-­heels clopping around under a shimmery pink nightgown, she’s speaking majestically between sips of her Amaretto. Then she takes her place at the oak breakfast table. Sparkling diamonds and pearls drip from her, the alabaster statue; the one holding an exquisite crystal goblet; the one seated exaltedly in perfect posture; the one staring out the window past the horizon brimming in endless grandeur; the one who is my Mother, Sophia
          The one who is depressed? Maybe angry, but surely not depressed…
          For the first time in my life, I have been lonely for her. She has stopped calling…it has been months...
          I just have to see her—pin her with a giant hug. Everything will be all right!