BeachBoundbooks is pleased to be coordinating a Blog Tour for the children's adventure book, Mary's Song by Susan Count. The tour will run December 12, 2016 - January 2, 2017.
About the Book
Title: Mary's Song (Dream Horse Adventure Book 1) |
Author: Susan Count |
Genre: Children's Fiction |
Number of Pages: 122 |
Publisher: Hastings Creations Group |
Release Date: October 20, 2016
Book Description: Mary’s heart breaks over the pending destruction of a beautiful, but damaged filly. When life is not fair, the courageous challenge the obstacles. Twelve-year-old Mary was disabled at the age of four by the same virus that took the life of her mother. While she longs to have a horse of her own, she’s limited to reading horse books. A talented artist, she spends her days on a blanket in the grass sketching the horses at the farm next door. She falls in love with one of the foals and is outraged to learn the filly is considered worthless as it was born lame. Mary befriends and enlists the help of twelve-year-old Laura, whose family owns the horse farm. Against the better judgment of the farm manager, a brief reprieve is negotiated for the foal’s life. The girls conspire to raise money to save her, but time is running out. Sadly, it appears the expensive surgery the foal needs has little chance to correct her problem anyway. Mary isn’t about to give up. She sacrifices what she holds dear, including the trust of her papa, to gain her heart’s desire. Will she lose everything in her struggle to save the foal?
What others are saying...
"An excellent and engaging book from start to finish. A must read." - Amazon Review
"Susan Count knows how to write about horses, family, friendship, love, faith, and sacrifice. Her true-to-life characters easily engaged me in wanting to know more about them and how their conflicts would be resolved." - Geoffrey W.
"A genuinely touching story about friendship and recovery. I strongly recommend this to anyone looking for a good horse book perfect for middle age girls!" - Amazon Review
Excerpt:
In the year 1952
“Maybe today?”
Twelve-year-old Mary gripped the arm of her wheelchair with one hand and the
bedrail with the other. Her weight balanced on the edge of the bed, and she
inched forward onto her feet. Her legs trembled and buckled. As her knees
slammed onto the wood floor, she grabbed desperately for the dresser, but
snatched instead the crocheted covering. When it ripped away from the dresser
top, her favorite carved horse sailed across the room, careening into the wall.
One of the Morgan mare’s legs and its ornately carved black tail snapped off as
it ricocheted under the bed.
Ignoring the pain in her
knees, she peered under the bed. The rest of the disfigured horse lay out of
her reach. Already sprawled across the floor, she scooted to retrieve the
severed pieces and cradled them in her hands. “I have to hide you.”
Papa would be so angry if he
saw Mama’s horse was broken. Heavy footsteps rushed toward her.
“Lame and worthless. Just
like me.” She slipped the broken horse into her skirt pocket. She struggled and
strained to pull herself up off the floor, but collapsed as Papa burst into her
room.
“What happened? I heard a
commotion… Mary?” He dropped to his knee beside her. “What happened? Are you
hurt?”
“I lost my balance when I
tried to stand. I’m fine.”
“Let’s get you off the floor,
shall we?” He lifted and placed her on the bed. “I think it would be best to
call the doctor.”
“I’m fine!” Mary said a
little louder than she intended. “The hot rock therapy didn’t help.”
Papa sat on the bed and took
her hand. “Don’t give up. We’ll find a therapy, my Mary. We’ll never stop
trying.” He patted her hand. “You sure you’re all right? Maybe you should lie
down.”
“I said I’m fine.” But she
looked out the window instead of into his eyes. She would never be all right.
“Can you take me outside now?”
“If you’re sure. Let’s get
you out in some fresh air.” He dropped a paper-wrapped bundle of carrot pieces
in her lap.
Mary tucked her long dark
hair behind her ears. Gathering her sketchpad and pencils to her chest, she
drew a deep breath and nodded.
In a practiced motion, he
slung her blanket over his shoulder and scooped her from the bed.
“I want to believe I’ll walk
someday, but sometimes, I just can’t.” She tossed him a hint of a smile. He
carried her through the colonial house, past the white porch pillars, and
across the field. He was so strong it made her feel safe. He was certainly the
most handsome papa in all the world.
The white oak had not leafed
yet, so he placed her blanket in the shade of the pines out of the warm Texas sun. Mary smoothed
her skirt and spread her art materials. “You were right about throwing carrots
over the fence to bring the mares closer.” She retrieved an art pencil hidden
in the folds of her blanket. “Look. Here they come.” She pointed with her
pencil. “They see me and gallop like crazy to get here. The foals buck and kick
the whole way. Our new neighbors are so lucky. I’d like to have a pasture full
of Morgan horses.”
“At least you get to enjoy
them. I have to go now.” He kissed the top of her head. “Have a nice day. Mr.
Joe is working in the gardens, so when you’re ready to go back to the house,
holler for him.”
“Will you be gone long?”
His face tensed, and his dark
eyebrows pulled together. He looked over the meadow, frowning. “Only a few days
this time.”
“I wish you didn’t always
have to go. I miss you so much.”
“I know it’s hard on you. If
it makes you feel any better, I don’t like leaving you either. But I have
business in New Orleans, and then I’m going to Destin, Florida.
A doctor there thinks he can help you.”
Her temper flared, and she
slashed a big ugly squiggle across the sketchpad. “Not another one, Papa! You
thought the medicine man would be the miracle cure. He danced and chanted and
kept me in a dumb teepee for two days. Magic smoke. And for what?”
“Well… it wasn’t one of my
better ideas.”
“I thought Mrs. Tate was
going to faint when you told her where we’d been. She walked around the house
all day shaking her feather duster and muttering ‘pagan gods’, something about
never taking another day off, and praying real loud to God asking him to
forgive you.”
“Glad I missed that, but I’m
not giving up. I’ll consider any opportunity to heal you.” He straightened his
vest and tucked his thumbs in its little pockets. “If this technique can offer
us hope, we have to try. The clinic would float you in emerald-colored
seawater. Then they’d take you to the ‘Fountain Of Youth’.”
Her shoulders slumped with an
exhale. “I don’t need to get any younger. I need to walk.”
“And walk you shall. That is
just the name given to the spring by the explorer who discovered it.” He patted
her hand. “Sketch me several poses of the filly beside the dappled gray mare
while I’m gone. What is it about her that always draws my eye?”
“She’s special! I sketch her
the most. The other foals will scatter, but she seems to want to be with me. If
she was on this side of the fence, I think she’d be in my lap.” Mary flipped to
a clean paper. “It’s her eyes. Our souls connect when our eyes meet. Don’t you
think they look like dark chocolate?” Mary warmed at the thought. “She is my
favorite. What a character. She hides behind her mama sometimes and plays hide
and seek with me.” A frown wiped the smile off her face. “I think there might be
something wrong. She limps sometimes.”
Papa checked his watch and
frowned. “Hum, that can’t be good. Say, when I get home, I will have a little
something special I ordered for you. Don’t ask me what it is and ruin the
surprise.”
“No fair! Is it a book on the
Lipizzaners?”
“You’re a bad guesser.”
“Whatever it is, I’ll love
it.”
Papa grinned, tossed a piece
of chocolate in her lap, and left.
“Thanks!” She waved and
sailed a few carrot offerings over the fence to the gathered herd. They rushed
to grab the bribe. With ears flattened, the horses jostled, shoved, and charged
at one another to gobble the carrots. When the treats were gone, the mares went
back to grazing. As the foals cavorted in circles around their dams, Mary
inhaled the delight of being in their company. To draw a foal, she took a
snapshot with her mind and sketched it in a great flurry. After capturing the
likeness, she fussed with the details and the shading. A twine-wrapped
portfolio she kept in her library bulged with sketches. Each sketch was a
secret wish to ride, wild and free, someday.
She imagined herself
cantering across a meadow polka-dotted with pink flowers. Her hair streamed
behind her. Her arms held wide as if to soar. The palomino horse moved in
response to her thoughts. A smile lifted and softened her face.
Mary shifted her useless legs
to balance the sketchpad better. “It’s not just a dream.” The filly cocked her
feminine head to the side and peered at the curiosity in the grass. Mary stared
back, hoping the filly would hold the pose long enough for her to soak in every
detail. The dark graphite pencil seemed to flow on its own, and soon the rough
outline of the curious baby splashed across the paper.
“I will sketch you every minute until Papa comes
home with my surprise. It might be—could be—a horse.”
About the Author
One day...I began to write with no preconceived ideas about anything. I’d read what I had written the day before and add another scene to the adventure. No one could have been more astounded than I was when it turned into a book. The whole process gave me great joy and restored my spirit after a season of loss. My motivation was my desire to bless one particular young lady with a story to show her a love relationship in a family, with the Lord, and with a horse. I truly thought the story would remain in a drawer until she was old enough to read it. Surprise.
I write at an antique secretary desk which belonged to the same grandmother who introduced me to horse books. The desk has secret compartments and occupies a glass room with a forest view. Bunnies and cardinals regularly interrupt my muse, as do my horses grazing in a clearing.
Though I am a rider and lover of horses, I make no claims of expertise in any riding discipline. I hope that my research keeps me from annoying those who would know.
The only thing more fun than riding might be writing horse adventure stories. Saddle up and ride along!
Blog Tour Giveaway
Prize: One winner will receive a $25 Amazon gift card or $25 PayPal cash prize(winner’s choice)
Giveaway ends: January 2, 11:59 pm, 2017
Open to: Internationally.
How to enter: Please enter using the Rafflecopter widget below.
Terms and Conditions: NO PURCHASE NECESSARY TO ENTER OR WIN. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW. A winner will be randomly drawn through the Rafflecopter widget and will be contacted by email within 48 hours after the giveaway ends. The winner will then have 72 hours to respond. If the winner does not respond within 72 hours, a new draw will take place for a new winner. Odds of winning will vary depending on the number of eligible entries received. This contest is in no way sponsored, endorsed or administered by, or associated with Facebook. This giveaway is sponsored by the author, Susan Count and is hosted and managed by Stacie from BeachBoundBooks. If you have any additional questions feel free to send an email to stacie@BeachBoundBooks.com.
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