About the Book:
Thirteen-year-old Crissy Crosby chases a dream to live up to her parents’ rodeo legacy. But the rodeo championship is two months away and problems beyond her ability to solve stack and teeter like a game of Tumbling-Towers. Meanwhile rival Jodie Lea and her father, Ed Fairgate, contrive to swipe the silver buckles from Crissy’s grasp any way they can. Prejudice, anger, and dark secrets simmer in a pot of family feuds destined to boil over in a tragic nightmare at the rodeo. Will Crissy develop courage and faith to overcome the consequences of her temper? Will her dreams of buckles and titles become reality? Or will the character-building adversities of her life quash her dreams forever?
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DiAne says:
I
always want to know what prompts an author to write a story—
A vision in the
night? A flashback? Daydreaming or what?
GIVEAWAY:
DiAne will give an ecopy of Roped in a drawing of those who comment with a story idea! What dream or flashback would you like to see in print?
Drawing will be held at 5 pm Central Standard Time on Tuesday, August 14, 2018.
The
Roped Series had played in the back of my mind for
years while I hung a million yards of wallpaper. Hanging from a ten-foot
ladder, sloshing the glue, and trimming the paper, all the while writing a
story in my head. It didn’t hurt my paper-hanging-partner was a rodeo champion
and I often went to rodeos with her to shoot pictures.
One
such night I was perched atop a chain link fence in a field judge’s seat
snapping shot after shot of bronc riding and barrel racing when the announcer’s
voice gave me cause to consider… Do I
really want to be here?
But
his twangy Texas drawl droned, “Hold on to your seat all you little range
wranglers, bull riding’s up next!”
I
looked at the large mud puddle beneath me…surely no self-respecting bull would
venture over here…right?
With
the camera lens set just right I peered in the zoom to see Booger Daddy…that’s
right Booger Daddy…same bull that Crissy Crosby rides in the first book of the
series Roped…B.D. did a quick rump rustle and sent his rider flying.
Next thing I realized that snot-nosed-bull glared right at me.
Yep!
He pawed three times, turned on the afterburners, and headed right at me, the
fence and the mud puddle!
I
couldn’t move. My legs were noodles. My mouth opened to scream, but no sound
came out. Seconds seemed like hours, but a pick-up man saw my peril, cut his
horse around between the fence, me, and the bull. They all arrived at the mud
puddle at the exact moment and an explosion of wet, sticky, black Texas mud
splattered my camera lens, and left nasty little me in my white eyelet peasant blouse,
skinny jeans, and boots covered.
All
in a night’s work for the cowboy and bull. But a horrible nightmare for me as I
wobbled down from the stand, and with husband’s help headed for the car to
clean and stow my camera for the night.
At
that moment I knew one of the spot lights in Roped would introduce
Booger Daddy to the world.
From Roped, Chapter Twenty-eight:
“The name Steer #1801-Booger Daddy,
was right beside my name. I gawked at the board and thought of the picture on
my night table. No. It couldn’t be.
But I found him in the pen, and the
tag in his ear read Booger Daddy, III. O great. If it weren’t for bad luck—
Snot slung from his nose and he raked
his horns across the iron pipe prison. The clanking and banging sounded like a
jackhammer. Our eyes met. He pawed the ground and lunged at my side of the pen.
My heart skedaddled behind me. This silver-gray Brahma, who looked just like
his granddaddy, was the biggest, most ornery bull of the bunch. Talk about the
luck of the draw.”