I’m honored, I’m flattered, I’m thrilled, and I hope everyone enjoys reading it.
The Boy Who Loved Horses is based on time spent working in the Kentucky Appalachians. Truly beautiful country with truly wonderful people who understood the meaning of “community.”
I am fortunate to be accepted by them.
I was born in a town like this. Mine’s on the eastern ridge and closer to Raleigh. My town had the same dirt roads, the same one-room wooden church, the same old store where you asked for things instead of getting them yourself, the same people but with different faces, the same old men carrying coon rifles, girls getting married when they’re thirteen and younger, having kids before they’re through being kids themselves, the same sense of what’s ours and what’s not. I left my town and got educated. Made it into the extension service. Decided to come back and help others in towns like mine. My education didn’t take all the hill out of me, though. Knew enough to carry a gun in case I got too close to a still. But it did take some of the hill away. I forgot about towns like this.
Take a read and let me know what you think.
The Boy Who Loved Horses is also in my Tales Told ‘Round Celestial Campfires anthology.