About Siren Stories
"Dive into the world of Siren Stories and discover the story behind the story."
Siren Stories is the creation of Andromeda Siren, who thought she had already lived her best life... until life presented her with a new set of challenges.
From 2023-2025 Andromeda faced hardships that reignited her desire to write. Today, she is pouring her experiences into
"Siren Stories," a six-part memoir that reads like fiction.
Meet Andromeda Siren
Andromeda Siren's Story: From Trauma to Truth
Andromeda Siren is a writer, survivor, and advocate for those navigating Complex PTSD. Her story spans three separate traumas overcome—each one reshaping her understanding of resilience, family, and what it takes to reclaim your life.
She lost her mother, a writer herself, just two weeks before her 13th birthday—an event that cemented her belief that writing would be her salvation. For over two decades, she carried a dream: to live by the ocean and write her life story. But life had other plans.
In 2023, at 43 years old, everything collapsed. Her 24-year marriage ended after her father-in-law's emotional abuse triggered a cascade of family trauma. Her husband has autism, as do three of her four children and her adult nephew whom she took in during the crisis. Her family became homeless. She lost her career stability and faced a future with no income, no support system, and no clear path forward.
But she had one thing: clarity.
Within 16 days of that decision, she sold her last savings for a 20-year-old Jeep and moved her kids, herself, and her two dogs to the coast. No job lined up. No safety net. Just the dream and the determination to make it real.
A former journalist for the San Antonio Express News and a blogger with a gift for raw, honest storytelling, she's now channeling her trauma into Siren Stories—a 6-part intimate memoir series about the three times she overcame impossible odds, the cost of survival, and the audacity to believe your story deserves to be heard.
Siren Stories isn't just a book series. It's proof that your past doesn't define your future. And that sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is tell the truth.
Meet the Jeep Daisy
I'd never felt rock bottom quite like this. Every relationship shattered. Everyone I'd poured my heart, care, and devotion into had thrown it back in my face.
I'd never truly done anything for myself.
After fighting to earn my license as my escape from village life, I found myself without a car, with my four kids as my only reliable constants, and everyone else feeling impossibly distant. That's when I made a decision: I was done living for everyone else.
So I asked myself the hard question: What do I actually want?
Sitting in a Southern Texas hotel room—technically homeless—the answer was clear. I'd always dreamed of living by the ocean. Always.
My oldest and I scouted the Texas coast, and when we reached South Padre Island, I knew. This was it. We researched Corpus Christi and Port Isabel, ran the numbers, and found something affordable.
We just needed wheels.
On the way back from our trip, I was returning the rental when I saw her: a bright yellow Jeep at the smallest dealership imaginable. I pointed and told the kids, "I'm buying that."
And I did.
Never mind that it barely fits four people (let alone four kids and two dogs). Honestly, there's barely room for dinner back there on a good day.
But Daisy? She's the best thing I've ever done for myself—and she made the second-best thing possible: finally living my dream.
JEEPin' is the perfect way to live the coastal life.
Meet the ESA Gunner
I never would have gotten Gunner if I'd known what we were about to face. But at the time, we were buying a house with land and planning to fence it in. A big dog seemed manageable.
That was before 2023 changed everything.
When trauma struck, Gunner was only eight months old. The situation was dangerous—I got the kids out immediately—but I had nowhere safe for our pets. While our older dog could have managed for a few days with food and water, Gunner couldn't.
So I stayed.
For five days, I was essentially confined to a detached dwelling on the property we'd been buying, desperately trying to figure out how to get our entire family—fur babies included—to safety. Those days of being locked in, protecting Gunner (or perhaps being protected by him), triggered the diagnosis that would define my next chapter: Complex Trauma and Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.
Gunner and I trauma-bonded in those five days. While he's technically my youngest son's dog, he became something far more essential: my certified, documented Emotional Support Animal.
The anxiety that followed was real. As I've progressed in my trauma recovery, I've learned how hypervigilant I became about Gunner's wellbeing. Any small concern would spiral into heart palpitations and panic attacks. But there was an unexpected gift in that intensity: during a critical window in Gunner's development, that vigilance created exceptional training opportunities. (Though he reserves the right to ignore all of it when he chooses.)
The real magic has always been our bond. From the worst day of my life to our new life on the Gulf Coast, Gunner goes where I go. And increasingly, Daisy hardly goes anywhere without her co-pilot.
Soon, he'll be a certified Jeep Dog.
