Revise, Revise, Revise

Hi Everybody,

I have to say one of the most satisfying parts of being a novelist is writing The End. You've created a whole new story. Mostly, after finishing a book my first inclination is to put my feet up, grab a cup of tea, and veg out for awhile. (I'd love to include go for a ride, but until my back is healed the rest of the way, that marvelous option is out).

The euphoria lasts a few days, sometimes a week. Then it's time to take another look. Uh-oh. Here, for me, is where reality sets in. As I read through the work and get feedback from trusted colleagues, I begin to see the first writing of the book as what it is - clay to be molded into a finished product.

It's amazing how many iterations of a story I go through in it's development. My current, recently completed work, is just beginning the revision process (i.e. raw clay. Over four hundred manuscript pages of it.) Sometimes when I go back I love the characters but the pace is too slow or some pieces of the story just don't hang together right or are confusing to me as I re-read them. (This is one of my not infrequent 'What was I thinking?' moments). This time I'm happy with the pace and the story hangs together well (after over six months of research and outlining. Whew!) The problem with this story is in characterization.

I've read reams of how-to information for authors about characterization. What it all boils down to for me, really, is whether the characters are inside my head or not. I had a nagging feeling all through this story that my characters weren't coming alive for me. The background, the plot, the suspense were all there, but I wasn't really connected to my main character.

Sure enough, when I got some trusted feedback, it was all about ways to improve the characterization. I spent a week rethinking the story, which is a contemporary fantasy, and finally went with my gut. The story is really best suited to be a young adult fantasy. I ripped apart huge amounts of the background I'd put together on the main characters and reworked them as teenagers. All of a sudden I was inside the head of my main character (in part because she has so many of the same feelings I did at sixteen). It's amazing! Scenes primarily devoted to character development that I wasn't totally happy with before are now flowing at amazing speed.

I'm sure there's lots of ways to describe why the characterization is so improved, but to me it's simple. Now I love my characters. I understand them and I'm inside their heads and their hearts.

Hope everyone had a wonderful summer and is ready for a happy, fun-filled fall season!

All the best,
Mary

www.marypaine.com

Aging and Our Horses

I don't know if any you have ever found that riding and relationships change with your horse as you age. I found that out this weekend. I mean, I kind of knew it already. I'm definitely far more cautious than I was when I was a kid with the horses. When I was a kid, it was all about get on and ride like hell. When I came off (which I often did) I seemed to bounce. I might have shed a few tears, but not many because all I really wanted to do was get back on the horse and ride like a mad kid again. Plus, I had my dad always telling me, "get back on. Wipe yourself off and get back on." Of course, he'd make sure I was okay first, but once he had, I dind't have a choice. So, I would get back on. I'm actually thankful now that I had an ornery pony to teach me how to be tough and ride. I don't have a lot of fear because of my bucking bronco, racehorse of a pony who used to buck me off almost daily from ages 8-10, until I finally learned how to stay on.

However, what I have gained as I've aged is a lot of respect for the animal, and a realization that at any given moment my horse could use every ounce of muscle and hurt me, and the only thing I wuld have going for me would be my brain. My respect for my horse and my brain probably saved my life on Saturday (okay I might be exxaggerating a bit, but it at least saved me from getting hurt).

Krissy is 16.2 hands and because of regular work, a good maintenance program, and a lot of extra feed, she has muscled out, filled out and is one powerful mare. She is half warmblood and half TB. Most of the time her warmblood brain is in charge. But something was in the air on Saturday. I will give her the benefit of the doubt here, she did have a few distractions making her crazy. I took her out into the jumping arena. It was great--just the two of us and my trainer--and the fifty or sixty goats and their babies on the property next door tromping through the cornfield (you getting the picture), plus the kids next door jumping around on pogo sticks, and a horse turned out having a great old time. We decided to hold off on jumping and just do some flat work. The goal was to keep her focus on me and not all the chaos around her. Yeah right! Walk, trot around and she is okay. She's very aware of goats, pogo sticks and other horse, but she's listening to my aids and she's trying really hard to be a good girl. Krissy has a very good heart and a good mind, so I don't get too worried, but I do know she has a flight system deeply embedded in her body.

It was time to canter. The departure was great, going around was fine, until--one of the other riders decided to start taking down jumps and rearranging the course. I know what you're thinking--couldn't she have waited? Crossed my mind, too. All it took was for her to move a pole over into the bushes to send Krissy over the edge. With a toss of her head and more power than I have ever felt underneath me, she decided to take off. For a split second I thought, "I'm dead." I could hear my trainer yelling, "Sit back, sit back," which I did, but after I decided I wasn't ready to die, I heard this voice in my head--"Turn her, turn, her, turn her hard." It was my dad's voice, and I was a little girl on a fiesty pony again trying to run away with me. I turned that mare into me to the right and she stopped, and I was grateful that she did! The gal moving the rails apologized and said that she dind't expect that because Krissy is always so even tempered. I know, but the bottom line is that she is still a horse, and a horse has a mind of her own.

Krissy tried this stunt three more times with me, until she finally realized that she could trust me and she was safe and all I was going to do was turn her and stay on. By the end of an hour of helping her with her fears, she started to relax and forget about goats, pogo sticks and the wind in the trees.

I think we both came away with a little more respect for one another.

How about any of you? As you've aged (ooh hate that word) have you found the way you ride or treat your horse is different than maybe a few years ago or if you had horses when you were kid, is it different now?


On a separate topic: A quick note! I have two books out today. My first children's fantasy is out today--"Zamora's Ultimate Challenge." Ages 8-12. This a fun chapter book and for those of you with kids, just go to my site and check out the excerpt and the contest. If you have boys and they like video games then they'll enjoy this book, and girls will love the characters from The Pegasus named Isaac to Chelsea the Mermaid. One reviewer wote: It's a cross between The Narnia Chronicles, Spy Kids, and Lemony Snickett. Pretty cool!

Also out is the fifth book in the wine lovers mystery series: Corked by Cabernet. More murder, romance, wine and food, and laughs. I hope you'll go to my site and have a look around, read the excerpts, enter the contests, etc. Thank You.

Cheers,
Michele
www.michelescott.com

Happily Writing about a Witchy World with Horses

Hi Everyone,

I hope everyone is having a terrific fall! One great thing about writing paranormals at this time of year is October is a great time to feel inspired. After all, it's the month for ghosts, goblins, and all things spooky!

I recently received the cover for my January release, Never Trust A Matchmaking Witch and the cover artist did an amazing job! It isn't easy to combine an equestrian setting, witchcraft, humor and romance on the cover of a book!

When I came up with the idea for Never Trust A Matchmaking Witch I had been musing that, like everyplace else in life, the horse world has it's dramas both equine related and human related. I've watched my share of romances blooming among horse people I've been acquainted with over the years, so I thought, hmm, wouldn't it be fun to have some matchmaking going on at a horse farm in one of my stories. And just to spice it up a little more, let's make our matchmakers a fun-loving group of witches!

Here's a quick peek at Never Trust A Matchmaking Witch:

Susan has some amazing fantasies about Dr. Brad Conway. Unfortunately, when she’s anywhere near the handsome surgeon, she’s a tongue-tied catastrophe. Along comes Brad’s friend Alicia, a horse trainer with a talent for magic and matchmaking. Trapped at Alicia’s home during an ice storm, Susan is thrilled to be on the receiving end of some fascinating, sensual advances from Brad. When she keeps encountering magical occurrences like a wolf-whistling cabinet, spoons stirring by themselves and a cat with an unerring ability to appear and disappear, not to mention change its own collar, she must decide if she believes in magic. But believing has a downside, because now she has a new problem to consider. Is Brad’s passion for her real or is it part of a spell?

Well, I'm off to finish writing a scene in my next paranormal equestrian romance. I have a griffin, a quirin, and three witches waiting for me!

Have a great evening.

Cheers,
Mary

www.marypaine.com

Going Home

Hi Everyone!

Hope you all are having a wonderful summer. August is a great month to travel, and I had an opportunity last week to travel to New York for a fantastic writer’s conference, called Backspace Writers Conference. I met some very talented people in the industry, agents, writers, and editors, and I also had an afternoon to wander Manhattan and enjoy.

I grew up in the tri-state area around New York and worked in Manhattan for a time, but hadn’t been back since relocating to the Midwest five years ago. I love our new home. It’s a wonderful place to raise a family and I’ve made great new friends. We’ve been very happy.

Still, I had an interesting sensation when my cab crossed the Midtown Tunnel into Manhattan. It was almost a visceral sort of recognition, a total feeling of relaxation. Much as I love where we’ve moved to, I have spent a great deal of time figuring out where certain specialty stores are, finding contractors for the house, finding new doctors, dentists, and the like. To be perfectly honest, I also spent quite a bit of time just figuring out how to get places. I am one of those people born without an internal compass, or as my family tells me, I couldn’t find my way out of a paper bag. The fact that in Manhattan the streets are all numbered in a grid certainly helps the directionally challenged like me, but my relaxation also comes from long remembrance. Frankly, I didn’t have to think about where I was going or how to get there.

I met up with old friends I’ve known for almost twenty years and shopped stores I’m familiar with, although I spent most of my shopping time in FAO Schwartz. I called home to discuss options for buying gifts, and my husband reminded me this was my first trip away from the kids in seven years and I was spending my free afternoon in a toy store!

I wonder what the lure is about the old and familiar? Is it the comfort of familiarity lowering stress levels or fond remembrance of times past? Whichever it is, at the end the allure of my new home was definitely strongest. A hug from my husband and a chorus of “Mommy, we missed you!” was the greatest feeling of all.

Hope everyone has happy and safe vacations this summer!

Cheers,

Mary

www.marypaine.com

A Romantic Ride

Hi Everyone,

I’ve always been a romantic when it comes to horses. As a child I daydreamed about a fictional horse barn near us where the perfect horse would be available for me to ride any time (perfectly free, of course). I never let dreaming get in the way of doing, however. I would muck stalls, feed, teach beginner lessons, anything to earn free rides or just be around the horses in addition to the two lessons a week I was fortunate enough my parents could provide me.

I stopped riding when I turned sixteen and started working to save for college. As an adult I started riding again while in graduate school at Yale. The Equestrian Center was near the playing fields where my then boyfriend, now husband, played football or softball depending on the season. We would go over together when he had a game scheduled and I would ride the edges of the field, always on the lookout for errant balls heading my way.

Eric, my husband, is certainly an animal lover, but nevertheless had absolutely no desire to be on the back of a horse. He would come into the barn to get me and give an absent pat to whatever nose presented itself over the top of a stall door, but that was as close as he got. The only exception I can recall is when a polo pony’s door wasn’t firmly closed and it barreled out. Eric had just come in from playing football and reflexively tackled the pony, who stopped cold and backed right into his stall with Eric’s shoulder against his chest. Handy timing on that one for everyone except the pony.

Still, he wasn’t proof against my plea for a romantic ride on our honeymoon. He agreed, with the firm stipulation that this would be the first and last ride of his life. We honeymooned on Cape Cod and the barn we stopped at found the largest horse they could for Eric, who is six foot two. The found a lovely, gentle giant named King, and Eric dubiously climbed on board. I nearly bit the tongue in two not laughing, but I figured since he was going the extra mile for me to have my romantic fantasy the least I could do was be cooperative.

After a quick lesson on turning left and right, kick to go and pull back to stop (you’d think after years with me he’d know all this but selective hearing at it’s finest had obviously been in play). We had a nice slow walk through the woods with a guide and I loved every minute of it until I turned and saw Eric was no longer behind me. My heart dropped to my stomach and I called out to him. With a huge sigh of relief I heard him call back “We’re fine. We’re on autopilot back here.”

Come to find out King had dropped his head for a few quick bites of grass and Eric was just sitting in the saddle while King had his fill. When we suggested he pull King’s head up, Eric told us “He’s hungry. We’ll be along after he’s had his snack.”

I may not have married a rider, but I sure married a horse lover. When I rode competitively he ran my ribbons around the top of the walls of our den. He would tell people it was the most expensive art in the house (well, actually it was), but he was very proud of ‘his horses’ wins’. We’ve been together over twenty years and he still has a picture of both my horses in his office.

Here’s to all the wonderful supportive horse people’s families!

Cheers,

Mary

www.marypaine.com

Life's unexpected twists and turns

Okay, I write a lot about being a horse mom, but I believe this moment pretty much defines it. I'm sitting outside the ring during my daughter's lesson, writing my blog draft on the inside front cover of a dinosaur coloring book. I've always heard when inspiration strikes a writer forages for any handy piece of paper. For an equestrian author, this often involves scribbling on horse show schedules or the paper used to keep kids occupied in between rides.

I'm looking over at my daughter sitting straight and tall, leg at the appropriate angle, for all the world defining what is meant by a natural seat. As young as she is her talent is already far outshining mine, so I'm sure I'll be scribbling on horse related paper for many years to come. At the moment I'm balancing writing and watching her for support without distracting her. Stopping in the middle of her lesson to wave at Mommy probably isn't on her instructor's list of things to do today! Of course, the fact my little girl laughs out loud sometimes with happiness while she's riding isn't on the instructor's list either, but it always makes her smile.

The fact that Susan, the heroine of my new novella (Never Trust a Matchmaking Witch), shares many of these experiences, makes her near and dear to my heart. Of course, just to make things even more interesting, I added a magical horse with a mischievous sense of humor and a head trainer who happens to be a witch. Toss in Susan trying to overcome a fear of horses to help her horse-crazy niece and her secret passion for handsome boarder Brad Conway and we have a recipe for a wild ride!

Here's a sneak peek:

Susan wrinkled her nose at the smell as she dragged the muck bucket, a large plastic bucket filled with soiled bedding, across the brick aisle of the beautiful barn. The stalls gleamed with a high finish on dark wood and were light-filled and airy. The building exuded an aura of class befitting the wealthy clientèle who boarded their horses here.

Leaving the bucket a few feet outside Jake’s stall door, she opened it and tentatively stepped inside. A large brown jumper stared her down.

“Now, look,” she said firmly. “We each have a job to do here.”

Alicia had told her that Jake, the horse now eyeing her with obvious evil intent, was just testing her. Unfortunately, his tests involved much stamping of his huge feet and dancing around while she tried to clean his stall.

“Okay, buddy.” Susan gathered her courage. “If you don’t behave this time I’ll have to take you out on the cross-ties while I clean your stall. Then you won’t have any hay to munch.” Susan planted her hands on her hips.

Susan and Jake continued to eye each other. Finally, Jake snorted with a shake of his head and returned to his hay. Triumphant, Susan turned to go back for the pitchfork and the bucket. A bump from Jake in the center of her back made her lose her balance. Flailing, she grabbed for the wall of the stall before landing spread-eagled across the bucket, which was now in the middle of the stall.

“Um, can I help you?” Dr Bradley Conway peered in the stall where she lay flapping like a fish out of water as she struggled to rise.

He placed one arm under her belly and her muscles tightened in response. He gripped her upper arm with his other hand and gently pulled. This can’t be happening, she thought as Dr. Conway gallantly levered her up onto her feet. He gently deposited her outside the stall and reached back in to tug the bucket through.

“Thank you.” Susan desperately wished the floor would open up and swallow her, but no such luck.

“No problem,” he hefted the bucket easily and deposited it in the corner. “I’m used to it.”

“You clean stalls?” Susan asked incredulously, and then bit her lip.

“Well, not lately, but as a kid I did plenty of them. Want some help?”

“Oh, no. I can handle it. Uh, how’s Jen doing in her lesson?”

“Alicia’s working her and Ritchie over a gymnastic. She’s loving it.”

“A gymnastic? Isn’t that the wrong sport?”

“Not in this case.” He laughed and she noticed deep creases by the sides of his mouth. He was too manly by far to have dimples. “Come look,” he added.

He placed a hand briefly at the small of her back to urge her forward. Just a common courtesy, Susan told herself as a warm tingle flowed through her core and down her arms. She preceded him through the wide doorway to the indoor riding arena.

Together they climbed the bleachers that lined one wall and were separated from the riding area by a low wall.

Casting about for something to say, Susan’s eyes lit on the ceramic owls set in the rafters in the four corners of the barn. “Interesting decoration.”

“What is?” Brad asked.

“Those,” Susan pointed at the nearest owl.

Looking where she indicated, Brad said “Ah, those aren’t decoration.”

“They’re not?” Susan frowned at them.

“Nope. The plan is to scare other birds out of here.”

“Why would we want to do that?”

“Well, cleaning up after them isn’t a fun job.”

“Oh.” Knowing the odds of her being the one doing the cleaning, Susan looked back gratefully at the owls, then blinked. They had moved. Hadn’t they? They were in the center of each wall instead of the corners.

“Is anything wrong?” Brad was looking at her closely.

“No. Nothing.” Susan looked again. The owls were in the corners of the barn. I really have been working too hard, Susan thought. She glanced at the owls again and one winked at her.

Susan jumped sideways against Brad’s shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His arm came around her.

“Fine. Thanks. Um. . . do those owls have any moving parts?”

“I don’t think so.” Brad frowned at the owls.

“I just thought, you know, to scare the birds, they might have them move or something.”

“I’ve never heard of it, but good idea, though.” Brad grinned at her. “You should send the idea in to a horse magazine. Barn owners everywhere would be thanking you.”

“I’ll think about it.” Susan smiled back at him, forgetting the owls as she got lost in his warm hazel eyes. She must have just imagined the wink.

“See those?” His thigh brushed hers as he leaned forward to point toward the center of the ring.

Susan nodded, noting Jen astride the trotting Ritchie before looking to the area he indicated. Three jumps in relatively close succession were set up down the far side of the ring. The first was a cross rail fence Jen was used to jumping, followed by a straight rail that looked a little larger than what she was used to. It was the height of the last fence which had Susan sitting forward in alarm. “Jen’s not going to jump those three, is she?”

“Sure. That’s the gymnastic.”

Susan stared at Brad, all inhibitions lost. “How high is that last fence?”

“Well,” Brad considered a moment, “I’d say about two-nine to three feet.”

“What!” Susan jumped off the bench. “Jen’s never jumped that height before.”

“Relax, Susan. She’ll be fine.” Brad tugged her back down on the bench beside him. “Alicia knows what she’s doing. That’s the whole purpose of a gymnastic. The horse is set up correctly to jump so the rider can focus on her balance and strength over fences.”

“What if she loses her balance?” Susan’s small fingers gripped her knee.

“She’ll be fine. Alicia has the jumps spaced to be easy for Ritchie. This way Jen can focus on her position. Watch.” Gently Brad pried Susan’s fingers off her leg and held them loosely in his hand. Even through her agitation Susan’s body reacted to his touch and she glanced down at their joined hands before Alicia’s voice jerked her attention back to the drama at hand.

Hope you enjoyed this snipped from Never Trust a Matchmaking Witch. I had so much fun with this story! BTW, my daughter secretly organized the barn staff and other parents to sing Happy Birthday to me. I've just been serenaded. Even the horses looked attentive, if a bit confused. Sometimes we horse moms do get some unexpected rewards!

All the best,
Mary

www.marypaine.com

On First Loves

Hello,

My sincere thanks to everyone who gave me such wonderful advice regarding my six year old daughter’s heartbreak over her beloved horse Pete retiring. We made arrangements to go and visit him at his new home and her whole world looks bright again. It will be awhile before we can make the trip, but as long as she knows she’ll see him again, she’s okay.

Last evening she was pretending she was Pete and I had to call out voice commands to walk, trot, canter, halt, and back as she practiced her various gates! Considering she’s only ridden at a walk and trot so far she’s got a pretty good instinct for the three beats of a canter. My guess would be every time she sees a horse cantering she’s making an extensive study of the process. Hmmm…I’m definitely looking into a future full of horse mom activities.

Watching her brings back so many memories of my own horse-crazy youth. We couldn’t afford a horse for me, but my parents did spring for two lessons a week and I took my ‘barn rat’ duties very seriously every day during the summer months. There was one lesson horse in particular who stole my heart. His name was Ritchie. He was a tall, gentle hunter who didn’t have a mean bone in his body. His height was a definite advantage since at 12 I was already the tallest girl in my class (I eventually topped out at 5 10 ½). There was a pony named Cricket who could jump higher than Ritchie, but when I rode her my heels were about level with her knees!

One year, I saved every penny all summer so that I could lease Ritchie during the winter months when the barn didn’t have lessons. I will never forget the day my mother took me to the barn to arrange the lease. I was so excited I could barely sit still. When we went inside to speak with the barn owner, she had sad news for me. Ritchie had already been leased. I remember my heart being somewhere in the vicinity of my shoes and I know that’s how my daughter feels now about Pete. The owner had another horse named My Colonel available for lease, and we agreed to lease him despite (or maybe because of) the tears in my eyes over Ritchie. The owner said ‘he’s not the same horse as last summer,’ which I should have paid more attention to, but I was so desperate for ‘a horse of my own’ I begged my mom, not a horse person herself, and despite her reservations she agreed to let me try it.

Well, it turned out to be a good life lesson in ‘buyer beware.’ Colonel had developed the unfortunate habit of bolting for the barn whenever he got out of the ring or pasture. Unfortunately, one day he bolted and my hand got caught in the lead rope and broke the pinky finger on my left hand. I still have a crooked little finger, but I prefer to think about it as a reminder of Ritchie, whom I loved so much. Although, I do also remember the quite painful ‘buyer beware’ lesson as well!

I’m glad my daughter will have a wonderful, positive experience to remember with her first gentle equine love. As a matter of fact, I put elements of my own youthful experience as well as my daughter’s into my just completed novella, Never Trust a Matchmaking Witch. In this story a young girl has a chance at a free lease of a marvelous horse named, of course, Ritchie. Her Aunt Susan helps make those dreams come true by working in the barn in exchange for the lease and lessons. Of course, the fact that the barn owner is a witch who is matchmaking between Susan and a very handsome, sexy boarder adds fun and spice to the story!

The opening paragraph of Never Trust a Matchmaking Witch should ring true for all the horse moms, aunts, etc. who are helping little ones find their own dreams with horses:

Susan wondered why being a favorite aunt had to involve risking life and limb. For her niece Jennifer the risk was jumping astride an animal which outweighed her by at least half a ton. For Susan the risk was having a heart attack watching the pair of them.

I’m off to get my daughter ready for her lesson on her new mount. I’ll be armed with my camera & hoping to build lots of new happy memories for her.

Happy Riding!

All the best,

Mary

www.marypaine.com

A Sense of Accomplishment and a Big Cheer

Hi everyone,

I am so excited to have finished my novella, Never Steal from a Leprechaun. It centers around a wonderful equestrian facility owned by a charming witch. She has an assortment of delightful, magical friends who help create an unforgettable evening for Susan Mallory and her niece Jennifer. When they’re trapped on the farm by an ice storm on St Patrick’s Day, Jennifer is delighted to spend an evening at her favorite place on the planet—a horse farm.

Susan is not quite as thrilled. Trapped with them is Dr. Brad Conway, the very handsome, brilliant surgeon to whom she’s been afraid even to say hello. By the end of the evening they do much more than say hello while Susan learns there are many kinds of magic in the world.

My magical moment this week was the sense of accomplishment which comes with completing a story that’s been milling around in my head for months. The characters poke and prod at me and I’m forever getting ideas for scenes and running to grab any scrap of paper to write them down on. Since I’m sometimes chasing my two year old twins at the same time, I have all sorts of notes written in crayon on the corner of various coloring books. Since my kids are as horse crazy as I am, sometimes I’m writing on pages from horse coloring books, which at least goes with the theme of my writing!

I’ve had similar moments of accomplishment on the back of a horse, usually with dint of much effort. My wonderful Topper was a very talented hunter, for example, but really resisted going in a frame. We always cleaned up in jumper classes, but flat classes were a challenge.

The first trainer I had with Topper told me he simply wouldn’t go on the bit and that was that. She was encouraging me to think of Topper as my transition horse and think about selling him. When I moved to a second, more advanced trainer, he took the statement that Topper would never go on the bit as throwing down the gauntlet and we were off and running. I remember he would be schooling Topper, holding him in a perfect frame while I stood enviously by wondering what miracle had just occurred and how I was ever going to replicate it. This talented trainer also had a wicked sense of humor and would chant in mimicry of Topper’s expression ‘I hate my life, I hate my life’ while Topper was having to arch and move correctly. Topper did look awe-inspiring and I was determined to accomplish this task.

Many months of sweat-filled labor followed, and I never achieved the same ease as my trainer, but there were those blissful moments when Topper would come together for me and we had that amazing union of horse and rider that makes all the work in the world worthwhile.

Topper and I had always had that wonderful chemistry over fences, but the hard work it took to achieve a flowing partnership on the flat made the accomplishment all the sweeter.

Never Steal from a Leprechaun started with all these ideas in my head, but pulling it together on paper was a challenge. The work my characters put me through was reminiscent of the hours my trainer spent with Topper and me. Bend and counter-bend was invading my dreams while I learned to put Topper on the bit and recently my dreams have been invaded with cheerful antics by leprechauns and witches that I rose at odd hours to work at bringing to life on the page. The reward is here now with a completed story I hope you will all enjoy. More info to come and in the meantime happy riding!

Cheers,
Mary

www.marypaine.com