I am currently at 23,700 words. My goal is 30,000, but it may go over that just slightly.
On Saturday, to unwind after a long, busy day, I sat down at my desk in the basement and worked on the story for about an hour.
I worked on it again Sunday afternoon and in about twenty four hours I wrote 5,000 words! That is a lot for me to do in one day and it actually took very little effort.
When I first began thinking of publishing this story, it was going to be a stand alone book.
I am thinking of doing a series with it. Each book will still stand alone, but they will be tied to the other books because of Rachel. I'm thinking that perhaps I could have each book feature a different horse that Rachel rescues and helps overcome their problems.
For each book, I could use a different horse that I am familiar with as inspiration so the stories will have a personal touch. Perhaps I can include a story on the horse the book is based on.
What do you think? Should I just leave Whisper as it's own story, or continue following Rachel as she helps other horses? Or should I have each book focus on a different horse and girl?
Whisper has gone very smoothly for me, but that might not continue on to other books. If it does, it could be a very interesting series. Or I could get part way into another book and decide it just won't flow. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this idea.
Anyway, enjoy the excerpt!!
hour had taken its toll. I scooted the bucket closer to the fence and leaned my head against one of the boards. I was thinking of my mare and the happy times we would have together now that I no longer had to worry about her being taken from me when I drifted off to sleep.
I was warm and comfortable. I felt a breeze blowing gently over my face and I squinted against the sun, wondering how long I had been asleep. I started to sit up, then realized that what I was feeling was not a breeze, but gentle breathing near my head.
Turning my head ever so slowly, I looked up to see my mare standing with her nose pushed through the fence, watching me with gentle eyes.
I smiled and made a soothing sound low in my throat. "Hello, girl. You came to visit me?"
The mare's eyes widened at the sound of my voice, but she blew out softly again and stayed where she was.
Very, very slowly I raised my hand until my fingers hooked over the board by my head. The mare moved slightly and I felt her whiskers brush my fingers.
Tears clogged my throat and blurred my vision. It was the first time I had touched her.
Gently, the mare lipped my hand, testing me. I held very still and allowed her to lick me softly.
She pushed her nose further through the fence and her velvety lips brushed my forehead.
I could see that her muscles were tense and that told me that she still didn't trust me fully. But the fact that she was allowing me to touch her, or rather, she was touching me, told me we had come a very long way and cleared a major hurdle.
The house door banged and the mare jerked upright, banging her face on the boards. Her muscles quivered and she looked from me to the house and back again.
I wanted to see who was coming, but didn't dare move.
The mare stood still a moment longer, then she turned walked swiftly away, but the fact that she had not bolted was