Among the Lies

Would you rather see my books than read about me? (The books are a lot more entertaining--at least I suspect so). To find them, you can scroll endlessly to the bottom of this verbiage, or you can check out the titles and ID numbers: KIng of the Roses: A Horse Racing Mystery: "I used to think Dick Francis has no peer. . . . Now I am not so certain."--The Maryland Horse (547497) Jockey Chris Englund has won five Kentucky Derbies, horse racing's jewel. But his uncompromising honesty has stalled his career. Out of the blue, he gets the leg up on the odds-on Derby favorite. But Derby week turns to ashes when he's offered half a million dollars to throw the race. But if he rides to win, he will destroy a great horse and lose the woman he loves. Blood Lies: "A read winner, this one." --The Los Angeles Times (547498) Young Ted Whysse comes home to his family's fabulous breeding farm to investigate his best friend's death. He wants no part of his inheritance, nor of the magnificent stallion Kite. What he wants, though his heart knows better, is his dying father's beautiful young wife. But when he learns she has a deadly secret, he must risk other lives to save her-including his own. NEW! Three Strides Out: A Horse Show Novel of Suspense (1313051) Adrenaline's good for something, Robb Slaughter tells people when they ask where he found the courage to climb into a burning trailer to rescue a valuable horse. But it will take more than adrenaline for Robb to find out who put that horse there and why-and to make the monsters pay. If you're a glutton for words, read on! (You've been warned.) I was probably about ten years old when a cousin (or perhaps an adult in my extended family?) told me, "You're just a kid. You can't write a book!" I remember planting my fists on my hips (well, metaphorically, anyway), and answering, "I can too!" And I did. My books were wilder, crazier, than the Black Stallion books I devoured. I still have the first one, in pencil on lined notebook paper. It was about this wild black mare who would come storming down out of the north Georgia mountains-believe it or not, an exotic never-never-land to an Atlanta schoolgirl-to steal tame horses right out of their stalls and carry them off to her secret hideout in a hidden cove. In fact, the whole reason I wanted to write books was to capture my dreams of horses. So I wrote and wrote and wrote, drafting, revi...