I am very pleased to announce that the manuscript for Express Desired is done!
Hmmm… Let’s just say it it nice to see that I’m making progress in my writing skills… and finally implementing my new skills…. especially incorporating ‘showing’ vs ‘telling’, (and my critique partner will be so PLEASED) .
It’s good to see the improvement since I began writing, but it is a two-edged sword… it sure makes for a lot of editing and rewriting in the first half of the story.
Planning to send the first three chapters and synopsis to the editors and agents who requested it THIS WEEK!
Thanks for your comments, all.
P.S. I’ve included in this post a little teaser for the story… Hope you enjoy it!
Vladimir is the baddie in the story… you horsy-people might appreciate this one!
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The colt didn’t seem to know the way home to the Krzysztof’s cabin this time, so Vladimir’s return trip to the cabin, en route to the trading post, took much longer than expected. Probably more likely, the bay colt didn’t particularly care about getting home, in light of the fact that since they turned around and headed back west towards the cabin, Vladimir’s mare had come fully on heat. He’d wondered if she was starting up over the previous few days, but there was no longer any doubt, the Russian’s mouth drew tight across gritted teeth.
He now understood why he’d been able to purchase this stunning, sound mare so cheaply at the end of last summer. Doubtless, the chestnut’s previous owner knew what she was like for the half of the year her reproductive cycle was active. Their little jaunt had become a trial. The young stallion was beside himself, travelling next to this winking, squealing and squirting hussy. It was much safer to ride the colt, as green and horny as he was, and be on top, rather than underneath him as he tried to breed the mare.
Vladimir found the shortcut to the cabin… just after he rode the bay past the half-hidden trailhead. Catching the Russian unawares, the colt looked back toward the track, then jerked the reins from Vladimir’s hand, spun on a dime and nearly dropped him as he dived into the trees, headed for home. The mare meanwhile threw up her head and reared, ripping her lead rope from his grip as the colt bolted.
‘You obviously knew that part of the way home,’ Vladimir growled and swore roundly at the beast in Russian, got him under control again and thanked whoever would listen that both horses had not left him stranded. It would be a long walk to anywhere and he didn’t particularly wish to be found at the cabin with all the graves and none of the former occupants.
He needn’t have worried he’d lose the mare. She couldn’t get close enough to the horse as they made their way down the narrow trail. She twice smashed his knee between her and the plunging colt, but Vladimir eventually managed to grab her trailing lead. A quick look around Krzysztof’s yard gave no evidence of habitation, so he refilled two bags with hay, slung them over the mare’s saddle horn and headed off down the larger track to find the trading post.