Seak Peek at A McCree Christmas!

A McCree Christmas

 

© J.C. Isabella

Copyright 2012 by J.C. Isabella

This book is the personal property of J.C. Isabella. Its characters are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental. This book is for your entertainment, not to be given freely or resold in any way.

Thank you for respecting her work.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1

Briar

 

 

I remember the first time I played in the snow.

I was seven. My parents had brought me with them to a fancy ski resort in Colorado to attend a medical conference for my dad’s job. Left to my own devices—my nanny was more interested in skiing with cute instructors—I ventured out the French doors of my parent’s suite onto the hotel balcony.

A small pile of snow had fallen from the roof.

I dove right in, and was instantly in heaven.

Ever since that day, I promised myself I would have white Christmases when I was a grown up. I’d move somewhere with seasons.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be riding a horse, herding cattle, in the middle of a blizzard.

The wind gusted through the trees and sent flurries of thick snow dancing across my vision. Visibility grew worse. I couldn’t see my boyfriend, Chase, or Ash, his horse. We were about ten miles east of the main house on the McCree Ranch.

Chase had forged ahead, searching for a cow that had separated from the herd. He’d told me to stay back where it was safe. The terrain ahead was rocky, slick with ice, and snow filled crevices on the hillside.

I was still a novice at navigating a storm like this, so I stayed back as he’d asked, though the waiting was starting to wear on me, and my horse.

Firefly was in a restless mood. She probably sensed my unease. I was having trouble holding onto anything resembling calm. She bucked once, pounding her hooves into the snow. I steadied her, smoothing my gloved hand down her mane. “It’s okay girl.”

It was only my second time on horseback in snowy, inclement weather. So far, I hadn’t run back to the house, seeking shelter from the cold. Earlier in the day, Chase had said he was proud that I was trying.

“This is your last chance to run back inside, Briar baby.” Chase said to me. “It’s going to take you a while to get used to the cold.”

The thought of going back to Chase’s Aunt Millie and having a hot mug of cocoa was awfully tempting, “No, I can do this. I’m not going back.”

Now I wish I’d stayed home.

Firefly jerked her head. I held tighter to the reins, trying to keep her calm, but something was bothering my horse more than usual. She hadn’t been this skittish in months.

I squinted, searching the white and gray, hoping that it wasn’t anything too bad. Probably just a small animal looking for shelter, or maybe a tree branch had fallen.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw something dart, disappearing behind a tree.

Firefly reared up. I held on for dear life, clinging to the saddle as she stood on her hind legs.

She dropped back on all fours, jarring me. The reins slipped from my hands. I grabbed the saddle horn. Before she reared again I let myself fall. It was a soft landing, right into a pile of snow. I sighed with relief, remembering the time Firefly had thrown me on the Fourth of July. I promised myself that if it happened again, I’d stop riding her and just keep her as a really awesome pet.

Stabbing, unbearable cold soaked through my coat and hit the back of my neck.

The creek.

I rolled to my stomach, scrambling on my hands and knees for the trees. I hadn’t realized how close we were to the creek. It wasn’t fully frozen yet. I’d been lying on snow that had piled up on the bank.

But as I sat up I felt water slide down my back. My skin crawled. I was wet from hips to shoulders.

Being wet wasn’t my biggest problem though.

Twenty feet away, a pair of glacial eyes met mine.

A wolf.

I was cold and wet, and my rifle was strapped to Firefly’s saddle.

The animal didn’t charge. He was sitting, just eyeing me, as if he didn’t know what to make of me.

I sat up a little straighter. Chase had told me what to do if I encountered a wolf, but every vital piece of information seemed to have vanished from my mind. I was frozen solid with fear and icy water from the creek.

One Year Anniversary as an Indie writer, and I'm Going to Tell All

It's my one year anniversary as an indie writer. November 14, 2011 was the day I put The Unofficial Zack Warren Fan Club online for the world to see. It was on a whim, and I didn't think anything would come of it. I wasn't one of the people who set out to be an indie writer. I had no hopes for any kind of career, and to be honest, I had no idea people did this for a living.

The only thing I knew: I had a book, I thought it was good, and other people might like it.

I was in for a wild ride over the next twelve months that I never, ever, in my wildest dreams would have imagined.

My mother has a friend. He told my mom to tell me I should try self-publishing. So, I put Zack Warren up and forgot about it. I just left it. It was on Amazon with it's little blue and pink cover. I made that sucker on PowerPoint, and I thought I'd be lucky if one person read it.

Fast forward a couple months later....

I was at home, surfing the Internet. I read an article about a girl that was now making a good living putting her books up on Amazon, and I remembered I had a book, and maybe I should check on it. I may have sold a couple copies. So after trying to remember the password to KDP (Kindle Direct Publishing), I hadn't logged in since I put up the book, I eventually found my way to the page detailing how many books I'd sold.

Over 500.

I was in shock.

I stared at the computer screen for a few minutes, trying to make sense of things.

"Oh, that must be views....my page has been viewed that many times...."

After convincing myself that I was seeing things, dreaming, or that I somehow had magically logged into another person's KDP with my email--I mean, what are the odds of that?--I realized that I'd actually sold 500 copies of a book that I thought would never get any kind of recognition whatsoever.

So I screamed, scared the dog poo out of the cat, called my mother at work, who thought I was having some sort of crisis, and then proceeded to call and message anyone willing to listen. I'm not sure who was on the receiving end of my excitement, but no one was safe. Not even the mailman.

At one point I remember staring at my phone, bummed that I'd run out of people to call.

And my journey as an indie author started. I had no plan. No formula. Nothing. This wasn't something I set out to do. I still thought the only way to have a career as a writer was to get an agent and muddle through it like the rest of them. After all, I wanted to be legit. I thought that I wasn't a real novelist or author until there was a publisher who told me I was.

Hell, I was half sure there was a ceremony with a little diploma stating you are a real author!

But no.

No one can tell you if you are an author or not. I think it's something you earn as people buy your books.

If you've penned anything at all that resembles a book, you're an author, just not a professional one.

(I could argue the professional side too. Most of the time I'm writing in my jammies, not a suit and heels. I don't go to board meetings or young professionals groups, and I've never been late to my job as an author. Yeah, I could argue both sides till I was blue in the face, but we'd be here all day.)

Knowing that I had potentially stumbled onto something, since my book was selling, but not quite sure what it was, I held on for dear life, hoping the choices I made were the right ones. But there really is no right or wrong, just what works. If it works, great! If it doesn't, you hop on the next idea train.

The only idea I had at that point was Google.

I read blogs and articles and kindle books, all about indie writing and self-publishing. I was like a newborn. I had no idea what I was doing. No marketing, no twitter. NOTHING. All I knew how to do was sit at the computer and make up fun stories.

I'm going to tell you right now, half of everything I ended up with, I got from sheer dumb luck. That's all. I've put work into it, yes. In the beginning though, I had no business plan. I had no idea what I was doing. I just thought something looked good and went with it! There are authors who have gone into what I do with research and planning, carefully, meticulously. they have marketing plans and ideas to gain readers....I had none of that, and I'm doing okay. So if can do it, I think anyone can.

The key is being able to write.

If you can do that, and keep writing things people like to read, then I don't see how you could fail.

So that's it for this blog post. In my next, I'll talk about something a little more meaty.

Like steak!

Just kidding.

In my next one I'll delve a little deeper into life as an indie author, and exactly what I do.