And the beat goes on. . .

Hi Everyone!

Well, I made it. Never Trust A Matchmaking Witch was released yesterday and I'm still standing (I think). Now it's the nail biting wait for reviews and sales figures! Unfortunately, I've been biting into much more than my nails, as my bathroom scale attests. I've been telling myself (ahem) I needed the sugar to keep going since I don't drink caffeine. As excuses go, I thought that was a pretty good one!

I've gotten good feedback on the book so far. The idea of a paranormal romantic comedy appeals to people in these uncertain times, as does the $2.99 price tag for the ebook. Of course, in my mind, the equestrian setting is perfect for a lighthearted romance since so many of my happiest memories involve horses.

As part of the promotion for Never Trust A Matchmaking Witch I'm participating in a Holiday Tour of Author Websites that Writerspace (www.writerspace.com) is hosting. When it came to decorating my site, there was only one picture that leapt to mind.

Among the many wonderful aspects of my years with Topper and Spencer was enjoying taking photos of them. I want to share this one with you in the spirit of the holiday season and in remembrance of two of my very best friends:
I also want to share a brief excerpt from Never Trust A Matchmaking Witch. Hope you enjoy it!

Susan stopped in front of Misty’s stall and arched slowly with a hand to the small of her back, feeling her sore muscles stretch. Just this one last stall to clean and she’d be done.

“How’s it going?” Brad’s huge bay hunter enthusiastically crunched a carrot Brad was poking through the bars of its stall. The powerful, athletic horse made a fitting pair with the tall, rugged-looking man in boots and britches, a thick quilted vest zipped over his expensive sweater.

His hazel eyes glinted at the view of her stretching her body in a gentle arch. She snapped to attention, tugging her sweatshirt down. She could have jumped in the shower, but, oh, no, she had to be practical. She felt grubbier than ever next to the handsome surgeon waiting for her to reply.

“Fine, thanks.” She stuck her chin in the air and tugged on the stall door, which of course was stuck.

“Here. Let me help you with that.” In a moment Brad was beside her, sliding open the door with ease then pulling her pitchfork and bucket in.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” He grinned over his shoulder at her. “I’m used to it.”

“You clean stalls?” Susan blurted incredulous 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 loves 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 at the small of her back to urge her forward and a warm tingle flowed through her core and down her arms. Just a common courtesy, Susan told herself. She preceded him through the wide doorway to the indoor riding arena.

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

Susan cast about for something to say and her 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 with gratitude 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.

“Okay, Jen. One more time. Remember, don’t jump up his neck. Weight in your heels as you close. Let him come up to you over the top of the fence. Ritchie, slow and gentle for her now.”

“Does she always give instructions to the horse as well as the rider?” Susan wondered aloud.

“Not generally, but Alicia and Ritchie have been together so many years, I swear sometimes he understands her every word. Watch.”

Happy Holidays, Everybody and Happy Reading!

Cheers,
Mary

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

Never Trust a Matchmaking Witch

Hi Everyone,

Life is crazy but wonderful right now. I've just signed the contract with Siren Bookstrand Publishing for my novella Never Trust a Matchmaking Witch, which will be released January, 2009.

I’ve always believed the world of horses is magical. It’s been a lot of fun taking it one step further and creating some actual magic in my fictional horse world. In Never Trust a Matchmaking Witch the question is: What happens when a fun-loving group of witches start a new hobby — matchmaking for their mortal friends? Of course, the setting is a very beautiful equestrian facility where the owner/trainer has a plethora of talents, including witchcraft. It’s a given that her horses and even her barn cat have some magical abilities of their own.

Here’s a sneak peek:

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?

I’ve had such a wonderful time creating the stories A Dangerous Dream and Never Trust a Matchmaking Witch. It seems my love of the horse world has taken flight in a new direction—onto the pages of my books! Hmmm…in my fictional world my characters can even consistently stay balanced in their half-seat (unlike me, for whom that remains an elusive dream). Not that all those hours jumping cavaletti without stirrups or reins wasn’t fun, but I suppose I can let my characters skip that part!

Happy Riding, everybody! Hope you’re all enjoying your summer!

Cheers,
Mary

Ride into magic and mystery with novelist Mary Paine
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