My new release, "January Frost", combines two of my favorite things: horses and writing. If life were made by wishes, then I would writing this on the porch of my farm house overlooking pastures of fat, happy horses. But this is the real world, so I'm lying on the couch as "The Price is Right" blares on the television in the other room.
Evelyn Graham-Frost, our heroine, has been living out her dreams as well. A professional horse trainer and rider on the fictional Global Cup horse show circuit, she lives out of a suitcase and horse trailer for months on end, traveling the world for money, recognition, and the love between her and the giant white stallion who is her partner. World Champion Grey Cliff's Snowman is the first horse "Evie" raised from birth and their bond is stronger than iron.
Every heroine needs a hero and ours is Sir David Tattinger, III - called "Trey" by his family and friends. Heir to the title and owner of Grey Cliff, he and Evie were raised together; it was inevitable they would fall in love. But the daughter of a farm manager is not the future Trey's father saw for his only son. The wedge old man Tattinger drives between the lovers is deep and for ten years neither Trey nor Evie has tried to bridge the gap.
Because not only do Evie and Trey share a past, they also share a daughter; a daughter that Trey knows nothing about. After a brutal encounter with Trey's father, Evie takes her stallion and runs. By the time she discovers her pregnancy, another man is in the picture and she allows him to allude to the world she is his child. For ten years she has kept on running in order to keep the secret strong.
When a fall from Snowman ends Evie's professional career, the offer comes in to return to Grey Cliff as trainer. A chance to heal at the only place she called home seems perfect, but also means giving Trey the chance to meet his daughter.
Can Evie put aside the anger and hurt of the past? Or will returning to Trey just bring up old memories best put aside? It's going to take all she has to work through the pain of the past in order to reach for the future.
If you're looking for a great read for the Memorial Day weekend, be sure to check it out. And don't forget to leave a review! With Amazon's new policies, reviews are critical for writers.
May ends next week. I'm still in awe about that. But my other big news (other than the release) is my strong son is engaged to a great girl and now I get to add planning a wedding to the other million hats I wear at any given time. So if you see wedding pictures popping up on here, please know that I am only looking for places to strategize! I am not giving up being a writer to be a wedding planner. God forbid!
June will bring another attempt to make the Insecure Writer's Support Group first Wednesday blog hop. This time I've put an alarm on my clock so I can make sure I set the auto post function. But for the most part I am developing another story in a completely different realm, so wish me luck!
Thursday, May 22, 2014
Monday, May 19, 2014
NOW AVAILABLE ON AMAZON.COM
Just released to from Keith Publishing. Check it out:
Excerpt from "January Frost"
CHAPTER
FOUR
Home
We rolled to a stop in
front of the farmhouse and the wrench deep inside took my breath away. The
remodeling had not extended to the exterior, so the visible reminders of my
previous life were still quite real. Davy was already bouncing on the seat,
ready to find her room, ready to get out of the car after hours of riding. Cate
was beaming; she supervised the remodel and was hoping I liked her choices. I
felt the eggshells everyone trod around me, the expectation of an explosion
from reality smacking me across the face. It wouldn’t matter but I put on a big
show because I loved her. She was the closest to a sister I ever knew and
whatever she chose would be right with me.
Standing
in the front yard, looking out at the fields I could almost erase those long
years of exile and see into the past. The fences, the rock walls, the barns and
paddocks – nothing can ever remain the same, but this was close to time
standing still. The wind blew in off the ocean, bringing that tang of salt
water. The trailer bringing Manny pulled in behind us, and I needed to
supervise his unloading or there might be problems.
“Lady
Rachel, would you tell Davy the trailer with Manny is here and I want to help
unload? If she wants to walk to the stud barn, show the path, please?” I was
already moving as fast as the brace on my damaged leg would allow. “Thank you!”
I threw over my shoulder. Davy would understand. Manny was still a stallion,
and he could be very temperamental when it came to changing places. I could see
her shaking her head as I hobbled down the familiar path.
Taking
deep breaths, I steeled myself to see the stud barn again. The last time I was
here, I took possession of Manny and left. Now I was working in reverse but at
least returning the heroine I wanted to be all those years ago as a child
riding the sea Cliffs of my home.
The
air-conditioned van pulled to a stop in the large cobblestone courtyard in
front of the stud barn. The barn itself was a large, comfortable stone stable
with four stalls, two on each side of the aisle. Each stall opened to its own
enclosed paddock, separating the fiery stallions from each other’s sharp teeth
and short tempers. There was also a large wash stall, with hot and cold water,
ceiling fans twirled in the warm late summer air. A tack room, a groom’s
apartment, a feed room and storage room rounded out the building. Mares and their offspring were kept on the
other side of the farm, nearest to the manor to bring help quickly if anything
were to go wrong. Everything depended on Cate, the resident vet, who lived
there in the manor house with Trey and their mother.
The
driver was already opening the side exit door when I approached.
“Howdy
Miss Evie, here to supervise the big boy’s arrival?”
“Of
course Dex. How was the trip? Was Manny a good boy?” I smiled at the driver.
Dex had shuttled Manny and I around the world for many years. He was the only
one I trusted to ignore the stallion’s shenanigans.
“Well
he had some rough moments in the traffic coming out of Chesleton, but once we
hit the open road he settled down real good. I think he knows this is home,
he’s been pawing at the door since we pulled into the driveway.” Dex dragged
the ramp down and opened the large door. Manny, still cross-tied inside
trumpeted his arrival with all his loud, brash personality pushing against the
partition that divided the van. I had to laugh at his brass.
“Dex,
bring him to me, so I can work some of the kinks out.”
Dex
hooked a lead rope to the big stud, unclipped the side ties and eased him down
the ramp. Hesitant at first, he soon realized momma was standing on the ground
waiting. Pushing Dex aside, he thrust himself over, sniffing my pockets for the
treats he knew I always carried for him.
Always except for today.
“Crap
old man, I forgot to stock the pockets.” I patted my jacket looking for
anything I could pass off as his reward.
“Perhaps
he’ll accept something from an old friend,” the familiar voice was in my ear
the same time the musk hit my nostrils. I whirled so fast I thought might get
whiplash. Of course with only one good leg, I lost my balance and toppled into
Trey’s arms. Like touching fire, I jumped back. The flush that rose from my
feet and raced to my head betrayed my emotional upset. Manny, traitor that he was
took the proffered treat with a rub of his large, ungrateful head against
Trey’s shoulder.
The
groom, I didn’t even notice which one, took Manny’s lead rope while I stared at
my new boss. He hadn’t changed much. Same crooked smile, same laughing eyes, a
few more wrinkles at the eyes – at thirty-three the promise had matured into
full manhood. But the bricks around my heart are stacked high, built with pain and bonded
with hours of tears spilled in remembrance and they weren’t going to be
breached by a simple smile.
“Hey.”
He used the old greeting so easily, our code for ‘love you’ hanging unspoken in
the air.
“Hey
yourself.” I tried to bring my voice into neutral. “Thanks for Manny’s treat,
he would have pouted otherwise.”
“I
know, I remember.” His face was neutral as well. I think he was taking his cues
from me. He motioned to the brace on my
leg. “So how long do they anticipate you being grounded?”
“The
leg isn’t the real problem.” I responded on automatic, haven given this
interview three times in the past month to the various trade papers. “My neck
has nerve damage, and the combined pressure and the whipping around during
jumping will probably be too much. And of course Manny is retired now, so
unless something comes along to excite me, my victories will come as a trainer
and instructor, not a rider.”
“Hm.
Evelyn Graham-Frost earthbound. That’s a sentence I would have never thought to
hear. How does it feel to join the rest of us ungifted people?” The goofy
loving smile was back, the implied laugh with me, not at me.
“Painful,
very painful.” Against my better judgment, I smiled back.
“Let
me drive you back up to the house. We can talk on the way.” He took my elbow
and guided me toward the golf cart, helping me across the troublesome
cobblestones. Uh oh – he wanted to talk
already. Concentrating on my breathing, I eased myself onto the seat, mentally
preparing my gut for whatever he had to say. After all, as Karl would remind
me, it wasn’t him I was truly angry with. And you can’t hold grudges against a
dead man.
“So,
how have you been?” I opened the conversation in neutral territory.
“Good,
mostly good. And very busy, especially since Mum announced your arrival. The boarding barns are getting full and you
have enough advanced riders to keep you busy three hours a day, seven days a
week. I didn’t want to burden you with more students than that, especially
until you healed.”
“Thanks
Trey, I appreciate that. I’m not sure how long I’m going to be dragging this
brace around; it’s only been a few weeks.”
“I
know.” His answer spoke volumes. He kept track of me, behind the scenes.
Without hesitation he dove into the gist of his train of thought. “Evie, I know
this is strange. It’s strange for me, too. But put yourself in my shoes for a
moment. I just found out a month ago I have a daughter. Her mother never told
me about her, never gave me the chance to be a part of her life until now. If I
said I’m a little irate about that, I’d be making an understatement.
“On
the other hand, this is an opportunity for me to excel at something my father
failed miserably to do and that’s have a loving relationship with my child. I
want that chance Evie. I want to show you I’m a different man than the one you
ran away from all those years ago.”
I
interrupted him. “I didn’t run from you
Trey.”
“I
stand corrected. But I know it hurt when I didn’t come after you.”
“I
knew you had your reasons.” Tears threatened to fill my eyes but I blinked them
away. Too personal too fast. I had been afraid this would happen.
“I
did, but in retrospect, they were wrong. I should have come after you. I made a
mistake. I thought Dad would realize, would change his mind. But when he died
with things between us unresolved, I caved and left you alone. I was too
ashamed to come find you, bring you back. I’m sorry. I can’t change our past,
but I want us to get along, for Davy.”
“She
has no expectations from either of us. She knows we didn’t work out. Book
closed.”
For
a long moment Trey was quiet. There was a hint of pain underlying his voice
when he spoke again. “Are you ever going to forgive me?”
“I
was eighteen Trey, alone with no one in the world except you. Do you know what
he did to me? Did you hear the things he said? How can I forgive that?”
“Because
that was him, not me.”
“Right
now, I can’t distinguish the two.”
“That,
my Evelyn, is your problem.”
“I
know.” He hit the nail on the head. I was holding resentment toward all the
Tattinger men. “I know it’s my problem and I’m working on it. But don’t expect
miracles right away. There’s ten years of baggage to work through. I’ve been
wounded a long time. I’m not the girl you knew. She died long ago.”
“I
understand. I’ll give you space.”
By
then we were at the farmhouse. Trey helped me out of the cart and up the front
steps. Davy came flying down the hall, through the door and in Trey’s arms
before I could warn him. I didn't need to. Father and daughter took to each
other immediately. The tears that had been held at bay all afternoon finally
had their way and spilled down my face. Davy, always attuned to my emotional
state, added me into their circle.
“You
okay Mom?” The concern on her face matched the look on Trey’s. Great, now there
were two of them assaulting my emotions.
Smiling,
“I’m fine baby. Just overly tired and I think it’s time for my afternoon nap.
You stay out here with your father,” I choked a little saying the word for the
first time, “and I’ll be in my room.”
Trey’s
gaze followed me as I walked into the farmhouse for the first time since that
horrid night. Too much excitement and too many memories all crowded around me,
caving in the air, making the world smaller, causing me to hit my braced right
leg against the corner of the steps. The pain brought stars before my eyes and
my breath pounded inside my ears; then I did something I hadn't done since the
accident. I fainted.
Labels:
2014,
January Frost,
Keith Publishing,
Writing
Wednesday, May 7, 2014
Well, I Missed it Again
Today is the first Wednesday of the month, which means Insecure Writer's Support Group blog hop and once again I was too busy with my day to day job to get anything done. But that's okay. Somehow the pressure to post something is gone and I can write on almost any topic. The one I choose today is being grateful.
If I were to believe in my horoscope, I should be taking chances and leaping full tilt to assault the gates of my personal life and professional ones as well. However my better sense tells me just because someone got a few things right when they did a free reading based on my birthday and place doesn't mean I should base my actions around a piece of paper. While it is all well and good to read about the life you should be living, nowhere is there a forecast of what might really help me, which is to be accepting of my life and who I am.
All my life I have looked at others who griped and moaned about their supposed difficulties and wondered what their problem really was. Those whose lives look best from the outside are more times than not experiencing more catastrophes than we can imagine. Too many times society and the media tell us to strive for more, to want what our neighbors' have and find ways to obtain it at all costs. It only brings more unhappiness and more debt and more worry and why do we get on that hamster wheel when we know what the outcome will be?
I choose to pray every night. It's how I was raised and it's what I believe. Each night I thank God for all that He has blessed me with and I ask for a heart content with my place. Sure, I would love to be a hugely successful writer with a zillion followers, cranking out book after book with apparent ease and talent but that's not who I am. It takes me a while to craft each story, to live with my characters as a part of my being day in and day out until it feels...done.
Someday, if it is my destiny, I may still have the zillion followers (maybe two!). But no matter what happens I am grateful for the gifts I have, and blessed more than I probably deserved. I am not content, but I'm working on it.
After a delay due to the illness of my publisher my new novel, January Frost, will be on Amazon.com soon. Thank goodness she is recovering but a double pulmonary embolism isn't something you just bound right back from. I will do a separate post with a new announcement when I have more details, so keep a weather eye out.
If I were to believe in my horoscope, I should be taking chances and leaping full tilt to assault the gates of my personal life and professional ones as well. However my better sense tells me just because someone got a few things right when they did a free reading based on my birthday and place doesn't mean I should base my actions around a piece of paper. While it is all well and good to read about the life you should be living, nowhere is there a forecast of what might really help me, which is to be accepting of my life and who I am.
All my life I have looked at others who griped and moaned about their supposed difficulties and wondered what their problem really was. Those whose lives look best from the outside are more times than not experiencing more catastrophes than we can imagine. Too many times society and the media tell us to strive for more, to want what our neighbors' have and find ways to obtain it at all costs. It only brings more unhappiness and more debt and more worry and why do we get on that hamster wheel when we know what the outcome will be?
I choose to pray every night. It's how I was raised and it's what I believe. Each night I thank God for all that He has blessed me with and I ask for a heart content with my place. Sure, I would love to be a hugely successful writer with a zillion followers, cranking out book after book with apparent ease and talent but that's not who I am. It takes me a while to craft each story, to live with my characters as a part of my being day in and day out until it feels...done.
Someday, if it is my destiny, I may still have the zillion followers (maybe two!). But no matter what happens I am grateful for the gifts I have, and blessed more than I probably deserved. I am not content, but I'm working on it.
After a delay due to the illness of my publisher my new novel, January Frost, will be on Amazon.com soon. Thank goodness she is recovering but a double pulmonary embolism isn't something you just bound right back from. I will do a separate post with a new announcement when I have more details, so keep a weather eye out.
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