When I was born the last of 4 children, all with flame-red hair, to a natural platinum blonde mother and a brunet father, my maternal grandfather sent his daughter a cablegram saying, “At least you were faithful the same iceman.” Do you know what an iceman did?
So why do I write stories? Because they come into my head and what else am I to do with them? The first one I ever seriously worked on was about a mouse I met while taking the barn trash can to where our trash was picked up when we lived on our horse farm in Maryland. The mouse, whom I named Christopher, had ridden down the driveway in the trashcan. When I dropped the tailgate on our truck to lift the can out, poor Christopher raced to the edge, leaped, spread eagle, into the grass and headed back toward the barn. The barn was 2 acres away, so I wondered how long it took him to back home and what adventures did he have along the way.
Then other stories rumble around in my brain and are making themselves known to me. My first novel, Terror’s Identity, came out this past January and is currently for sale through http://www.sablebooks.org; Amazon Books, here at my blogsite.
I like to think I have a good sense of humor because people laugh at my jokes. And like most of us, I try to be friendly and forgiving. Sometimes I’m more successful than others.
I would love to hear about you. Do you love animals? Have you ever had a horse or a camel or, perhaps an elephant? Or it could be that you have dogs and cats and maybe a rabbit or two?
Thanks for reading, but I have to go feed my handsome devil and myself.
sarahsbookreflections 