1.
Once
upon a time I lived on a ranch surrounded by wild things. Grasses such as blue
gamma, june grass and needle and thread covered the sandhills of my youth.
Whitetail and mule deer bounded into corpses of poplar trees and moose rose
from the coolness of water toughs as we rode by on horseback. I miss the calls
of the piping plover and long-billed curlew. Not to mention the frantic but
beautiful dance of the prairie chicken.
I’ve
been away too long but somehow, when I write about cowboys and the wildness of
southwest Canada I come home, if only for a brief moment.
I
write about the land I grew up on. And about the people I lived with. The
characters I write about are fictional but there is some ‘realness’ in each
one. A trait I remember from the home-town appeal they all hold. So even though
these characters aren’t actual people, they are the friends I grew up with in a
way. At least they feel like that to me.
I
think I write cowboy romance because it is what I know. I grew up with the real
thing, not some watered down version. I lived that life once, years ago and I
can still hear the call of it rushing through my veins.
Sometimes
I want to move back to the familiarity and leave the exotic location where I
now live. But I think the memory of it all is sweeter than the reality and I
fear it won’t be like it was.
2.
When
I was a kid I would write stories in a journal. I’d carry it around everywhere
I went. In fact if I wasn’t reading, I was writing. It wasn’t until recently
that I remembered this about myself. I was thinking about something totally
unrelated when the image of my worn red journal popped into my mind.
The
stories I scratched into it were little pieces of my soul. My darkest fears, my
most dangerous dreams. Stories of war and death favoured heavily in my earliest
scribbles. I’m not sure why. I suppose I was fascinated by it and probably
wished to scare myself. Later came the romance. And the cowboys.
The
first complete story I remember writing was about a cowboy and a cowgirl. I
can’t remember what it was about, and honestly it probably wasn’t about
anything, but I do remember pouring my heart into that story. I’ve always been
better at putting my thoughts and feeling to paper than I am to spoken words.
What I say is often misinterpreted. I lack an internal filter. At least with
writing I can erase what I say the first time until I have the meaning down
just right. I remember the euphoria of discovering I could relay my thoughts so
clearly on paper when I would hesitate over my speech.
The
same proves true today. Although those who know me will attest that I do love
talking too. But I love writing more. If I could write full time, I would be
happy. Well actually, I’m happy now, but the thought of getting to write all
day fills me with joy. In reality though, I’d probably just waste more time on
Facebook. ;)
I
often dream of the office I would have in my ideal life. It would overlook the
green hills on which we live and out towards the ocean. The walls would be
covered in bookshelves and I’d have a comfy leather couch to laze on. And the
desk. Ah, I dream of the desk.
When
I was a teenager my great aunt died and her estate sent her furniture over from
Denmark. In amongst all the boxes was a desk. It had a large surface and had
intricate carving around the edges. It was the deepest brown. In a word, it was
beautiful.
I
want that desk.
It’s
not mine, and it never will be. My brother was lucky enough to inherit it. But
it doesn’t stop me from dreaming about it. I do wonder though, if it’s a normal
dream to have. Most people dream of vacations and new cars. I dream of an
office and an old desk.
3.
Have
you ever ridden a horse? Ever felt the wind rush past you as you flattened
yourself against its neck as it ran full speed across the plains? With the
smell of sagebrush and aspens thick in the air?
I
recently discovered that a close friend of mine is afraid of horses, their big
bodies terrify her. I suppose growing up on one has sheltered me from this
reaction and although I find it foreign I can understand it. I’ve been away
from horses for a few years now and when I do get the opportunity to get close
to one, they do seem bigger than I remember. Taller and more muscled.
There
was a time when I rode a horse every day. Twice. We as kids were sent out
before the school bus arrived to check the cows during calving and again when
we got home. No wonder I was in such good shape back then. No wonder I still
don’t mind getting up before dawn as long as there is a reason. (My kids waking
me up in the middle of the night doesn’t count) These days instead of getting
on a horse at 5 in the morning, I get out my laptop and write about cowboys
before my children get up. I live vicariously through my youth, remembering
what it was like living on a ranch, surrounded horses and nature and most
importantly, cowboys.
Of
course now I sound like an old lady sitting on the porch in my rocking chair.
I’m not. I suppose I’m missing home at times like these, when a new book comes
out. Having people read about a fictional home that isn’t so far removed from
my memories of growing up, makes me long to visit that place. Makes me long to
climb back up on that horse and run like the wind across the field. I can
almost hear the pounding of the hooves and feel the jarring of each step. I can
taste the wind and yes, I miss home.
My
sister and me with our horses Smokey and Emerson at home on the ranch.
4.
Do
you ever wonder what it’s like to fall in love? I ask myself this question all
the time. Don’t get me wrong, I know
what it’s like for me to fall in
love, because I’ve already done it. But what about you? Or the person who sits
next to you on the train or the one walking towards you on the street, or even
your neighbour next door.
What
is it like for them to fall in love?
Is it all the same? Do we all feel the same way? The sweaty skin? The sick
stomach? The racing heart? Does it happen slowly or is it fast?
Questions
like these plague me every day. I want to know how you fall in love. I want to
hear your stories. I want to feel what you feel.
It
was fast for me. A lightning strike. I
fell before I had even been introduced to him. I didn’t even know his name. But
I knew I belonged to him. I knew he belonged to me.
Alright,
I admit that I sound a bit crazy. How could I know that? How can someone fall
in love with someone else with never even having met them? Not possible many
would say. It was only lust, would say others. But I was there. I can tell you
it’s true. It wasn’t lust, although that was definitely part of it. And it is
possible. It happened to me. And I haven’t even looked at another man since. Of
course it could have had something to do with the fact that my man’s a cowboy
and looks mighty fine in a black hat and a pair of wranglers. But it was more
than that. It was like coming home. It was as though I already knew him. And
maybe I did. Maybe there is something to be said about past lives. How else do
you explain the connection?
I
have always been fascinated by these questions, even before I fell in love
myself. I think that’s why I write romance. I’m trying to figure it out. Why is
someone’s reaction different to someone else’s? Why do some people fall out of
love? Why are some people in love with each other for years and years? Every
story I write is different because, like real people, my characters are
different. Of course they all fall in love, it is romance after all. But how they fall in love is different and
why they fall in love can vary just as greatly. As long as I can still feel the
magic, I can imagine what they might feel like. And that, I know, is as close
as I’ll ever get to knowing how other people feel as they fall in love.
My
cowboy and me back when we were young and good looking.
Blurb: Is it time for a second chance at love?
When Lily left her home town – and the love of her life Wade – 8 years ago to start her acting career she had big plans to make her dream a reality. However, a few dead end jobs and one dead end relationship later she is back to make a fresh start with the only good thing to come out it all – her unborn baby.
Lily soon realises however that the heart wants what the heart wants, and hers clearly still wanted Wade Copeland! Can they overcome the hurt and pain of the past to allow themselves a future?
The third novel in the sizzlingly sexy Copeland Ranch romance trilogy from Kristina O'Grady
About Kristina O'Grady: Kristina O’Grady has always loved telling a good story. She took up writing at a young age and spent many hours – when she should have been doing her math homework – scribbling romance stories in a book she hid in her sock drawer.
She grew up on a cattle ranch in Western Canada and loves reminiscing by writing about cowboys and their horses.
In 2000 Kristina met her own knight in shining armour/cowboy who swept her off her feet and across the world to New Zealand, where she now lives on a sheep and beef farm with her amazingly supportive husband, three gorgeous young kids, seven working dogs and one very needy cat.
All for You is her fifth book.
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8119512.Kristina_O_Grady
Giveaway
The giveaway is for £15/$20 Amazon Voucher.
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