I have always told stories. As a girl, my stories were filled with horses and poetry and magic and happily-ever-after. With heroines both fierce and fearless who always found true love.
Until my father’s accidental death stilled that voice. After that, I used my storytelling to survive.
And survive I did. Through my mother’s next four desperate marriages, through career success, through cancer, throughout my own (not always blissful but deeply satisfying) marriage. That marriage remains my bedrock today; it is a story that gets better with each re-telling.
Now in the third chapter of my life I have found my childhood voice again. The horses and the magic are back. So is the happily ever after. And the fierce and fearless heroines. Only better! At this stage of my life I have seen true love. I have my own and I know it to be a treasure. Isn’t that worth a story? Or two?
If you (like me) never got over your love for horses…. if you (like me) always prefer the feisty heroine…. if you (like me) crave hunky heroes with senses of humor…. if you (like me) want to believe there may yet be magic in this world, then these stories are for you.
E komo mai
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