Fyrestorm is Chanel’s plucky little sidekick in, Timmy the Lonely Pony. Real life Fyrestorm is also quite plucky, but she prefers to be called by her nickname, Honey or Honey Boo. Like Chanel, she is a daughter of the resident Franch black stallion, Spirit (AV Olympic Spirit). Honey Boo’s registered name is, Spirits Fyrestorm. Honey was a surprise because one day her mom, Fyrelite, had a little red baby by her side even though as far as anyone knew, she hadn’t been bred. After DNA testing, it turns out that Spirit is officially Honey’s sire, so like Chanel she is a pure Franch bred Arabian.
Baby Fyrestorm with her mom, Fyrelite Bynite:
Fyrestorm aka Honey Boo all grown up:
Honey and me:
AV Olympic Spirit aka Spirit (resident black stallion at The Franch and father of Chanel and Fyrestorm):
Fyrestorm and Chanel:
Don’t forget to check out these social media links for Veronica Stanley-Hooper, the wonderful illustrator who is making my dream a reality!
Timmy the Lonely Pony is the first book in the Timmy Tales picture book series which follow the adventures of Timmy the rescue pony!
Timmy is rescued from a ranch that couldn’t care for him. He really likes his new owner and the kind way she takes care of him, but the other horses on the ranch notice Timmy looks and behaves differently. When Chanel, an Arabian horse who isn’t kind to Timmy, finds herself in trouble by the pond, Timmy is the only one that can help. Can the horses work together to save Chanel?
This exciting story of Timmy the Lonely Pony was inspired by a real pony who now lives on a 200-acre ranch in Texas.
Chanel is a cute character with an attitude in, Timmy the Lonely Pony. Real life Chanel is a sweet Arabian horse owned by my good friend, Stephanie Young, who runs The Franch. It’s an over 200-acre horse paradise where all three characters in the story live very happy horsey lives. Chanel’s real name is, Spirits Chanel No V. Number V (five) because she’s the fifth offspring of the resident stallion, AV Olympic Spirit aka Spirit.
Baby Chanel with her mom, NH Hungary Eyes aka Sera:
“First Kiss”
More Baby Chanel Pics:
Stephanie with her love, Chanel:
AV Olympic Spirit aka Spirit (resident black stallion at The Franch and father of Chanel and Fyrestorm):
Lastly, Fyrestorm aka Honey, half-sister to Chanel and the third character in, Timmy the Lonely Pony (she’ll be featured in my next post):
Don’t forget to check out these social media links for Veronica Stanley-Hooper, the wonderful illustrator who is making my dream a reality!
The picture above was my Facebook memory today. Nine years ago today, this sweet boy came into my life. He isn’t just a cute little pony that blossomed into his best self at the horse paradise that is, The Franch, but he is also my little muse. Even though he’s not an Arabian, it’s this little halfbreed pony that fired up my dream to be a writer.
Timmy is loved by all at The Franch because he’s the smallest and cutest little guy on the ranch, and oh so loveable. He’s a tough little dude, though. He lets the bigger horses know he’s not a pushover!
I realized I wanted to be a writer way back in seventh grade, but life got in the way for many years, as it often does. Another dream I had was owning an Arabian horse. In my late forties, I acquired two rescue horses: Frisco first and then Timmy. I managed to board them at a ranch that bred Arabians, but that was as close as I got to Arabian horse ownership at first. My circumstances improved and first I acquired, Flame and later his full sister, Honey aka Fyrestorm.
My friend, Stephanie Young, suggested that I write something like The Black Stallion, so I started writing, The Red Filly, which stars, Fyrestorm. My previous writing had been more geared toward adults, but I gained access to my inner child, when I started writing the story of a girl who wanted desperately to ride a beautiful red filly. I then realized that cute little Timmy would be an awesome star in children’s short stories and later I came up with a picture book story which stars the cute pony.
Once I started writing Timmy Tales, my writing juices really started flowing! Timmy is the cutest little muse!
So, I didn’t get a lot of writing done in 2022 as my 7 followers are probably aware. Lol (Oh hey, I have 68 subscribers!) I changed day jobs three times and just couldn’t get into a groove at all this past year. The art posted above was created by the very talented artist, Veronica Stanley Hooper, and it is a sample for a picture book that I wrote in October 2021.
The three horses pictured in the image are based on real horses, although the real ones don’t talk (as far as I know).
I plan to be more productive in 2023. My biggest goals are to publish, Timmy the Lonely Pony, by my birthday in July and finish writing my middle-grade novel, The Red Filly, by the end of the year. I also plan to create more content for my site, so stay tuned for that. I greatly appreciate all of your patience and support and I hope you all stay along for the ride! Happy 2023 everyone!
Okay, as usual, I’m a little late with this post since this working equitation competition took place in Ft. Worth on November 9th, but I managed to get some cool pictures and I just wanted to post them. Working Equitation (WE) is featured prominently in my work in progress, The Red Filly. Doreen Atkinson (pictured above) was elected President Elect of USAWE in November of 2022. She will rotate into the role of President at the end of 2023. USA Working Equitation is the national organization for working equitation in the USA, and Doreen is an awesome ambassador for the sport!
Gina shimmied under a low spot beneath the white pipe fence separating the front pasture of Kuhaylah Arabians from the road, and, as always, the pony trotted right up to her. She pulled the carrot from her pocket and, not wasting any time, he took the entire treat in his mouth before the rest of the herd noticed. The pony, the smallest of the bunch and not a purebred, stood out from the rest of them. He was a cutie though, a beautiful coppery, golden color, with a dishwater blonde mane and tail. A jagged, white, blaze ran the full length of his face to the tip of his nose. And on this lovely spring day, his slick coat glistened in the sun.
The pony didn’t leave after he finished the carrot. Gina was drawn to him because she was an outsider in her circles too. And, like him, she had dishwater blonde hair, although it was cuter on him in her opinion. Gina felt less than cute with her skinny body, and long, stringy, often tangled, hair. Gina spoke softly to the pony, rubbing his neck and scratching his cheek, the way she knew he liked. “I love you little boy, I wish I could stay here with you.” Tears streamed down Gina’s cheeks. She hugged his neck as the events of the previous day came crashing back into her brain.
“We have to add Gina Targoff to the list,” Chet whispered.
“Of course! She should be at the top!” responded Cassie, in a louder whisper. Chet, Cassie, and their minions all giggled.
Gina was keeping her head down, pretending to read whatever textbook she had opened in front of her. She refused to cry; she would not show them weakness. Even though Gina knew they were whispering loud enough for her to hear on purpose. Samuel James Middle School was almost a daily exercise in humiliation. She fought back the tears though…
“Yeah, Gina is definitely the ugliest girl in the school,” said Chet.
They all laughed again.
The golden pony put his head on Gina’s shoulder as if he were trying to comfort her. She hugged him tighter and let the tears flow until there were no more, but she continued to hug him, taking in his horsey scent, and allowing it and the quiet to calm her mind.
“Timmy has really taken to you,” said a voice behind Gina. One with the slightest hint of an accent, an accent from another country though, not rural Texan as Gina had grown accustomed to.
Gina straightened and jumped back a step from the pony in one quick move.
“I’m sorry. I know I’m not supposed to be here.” Gina gaped up at the woman astride a black, Arabian stallion, solid black, save a small white star on his forehead.
“Come closer girl,” said the woman.
Gina did as she was told. The woman appeared to be around her mother’s age. But unlike Gina’s mother, she was beautiful and confident. She had her long brown hair pulled back with a black velvet scrunchy. But then Gina’s gaze was drawn back to the horse. So much like the black stallion she had read about, except the one in the books was solid black. This stallion before her had the same wild look of the one in the books though; thick black mane, forelock blowing in the breeze about his face, and a thick, flowing tail. He pranced about a bit and snorted a couple of times. The woman said something to him that Gina couldn’t quite hear, and he settled down.
“What is your name?” asked the woman.
“Gina…Gina Targoff. Please don’t have me arrested. I’ll never come on your property again.”
The woman laughed. But in a lilting way, not in a, you’re darn right you’re going to jail, kinda way.
“I was actually thinking of offering you a job. I’ve watched you with Timmy. You two have formed quite a bond.”
“Timmy, a cute name, for a cute little boy!” said Gina.
The woman laughed again. “My name is Antonia Silva, and I am the owner of this ranch. So, what about the job?” Antonia asked.
“I don’t know anything about horses or ranches,” Gina answered.
“Do you know how to drag a water hose or carry buckets?”
“Umm, yes…” answered Gina.
“Okay, good. We’ll start with that.” Antonia smiled.
Gina smiled back and then jumped when something firm and soft rubbed the small of her back. She spun around and little Timmy nuzzled her chest. Gina reached out and stroked his face.
“He loves you and trusts you. You’re a natural with horses,” said Antonia.
“He’s so sweet. May I ask how he came to be here among…” began Gina.
“…among all these purebred Arabians?” Antonia finished.
“Well…yes. Is it rude to ask?” said Gina.
Antonia laughed again. It sounded like music to Gina. “No, it’s not rude. My best friend runs a small horse rescue. She saved him along with a small herd of starving horses. He was less than a year old at the time and he reminded me of a pony I once had growing up in Portugal, so I adopted him.” Antonia rubbed her black stallion’s neck and smiled. “Spend a little more time with Timmy and then head up to the big house and I’ll show you around.” Antonia wheeled her glorious steed around and galloped up the hill toward the house.
Gina watched the graceful woman in control of such a magnificent animal and couldn’t help wishing that could be her one day. She turned back to Timmy and gave him a hug. “Did you hear that boy? Now I can see more of you and no more sneaking around!” One of the gray Arabian mares had come closer, curious about this skinny, young girl in the big pasture. Timmy laid back his ears and turning on a dime chased her off as if to say, “This is my girl!”
Gina laughed for the first time since she could remember. It had been a long, emotional journey from Dallas to Dale City. Even though they were only an hour apart, they were miles apart in cultures. The small-town Dale City students at Samuel James Middle School did not respond well to newcomers. For the very first time in a long time, Gina felt like she was where she belonged.
This must be what love at first sight feels like, Bethany Resmon thought as she watched the flashy red filly galloping with tail held high. The young horse looked like a mythical creature as she floated across the green pasture, flipping her head as she ran. Bethany felt as if her heart would burst from her chest. She memorized every inch of the filly as her mom drove their 1978 Ford F150 up the long, winding gravel road that led to the house and the main barn. All the horses were beautiful at Kuhaylah Arabians, but this filly stood out from the rest, red gold in color accentuated with flaxen mane and tail. Her delicate, dished face adorned with a white star and strip, sat atop a long sloping neck and her exquisite, curved ears danced above her head as she ran.
“Mom, stop the truck!” Bethany shouted.
Another pickup moved toward them as it exited the ranch, so Helene pulled into the grass on the side of the gravel driveway before pulling their old truck to a stop.
“Mom! Look!” Bethany was still shouting.
Helene stuck her hand in Bethany’s face, flat and palm side down. The signal that Bethany was being too loud. Bethany’s eyebrows scrunched down for a second, she really hated when her mother did that. But instead of getting in an argument, Bethany placed her left hand on her mother’s chin and turned her head toward the filly.
Helene immediately dropped her hand and watched the young horse too, mouth agape. Bethany knew that when her mom was young, she had read the Black Stallion series and had dreamed of one day owning her own Arabian. In fact, Bethany had followed in her mom’s footsteps when she started reading the worn paperback copies of the books her mom had kept all her life. They were the only things Helene had kept from her childhood.
“You see her, Mom?” asked Bethany.
“Yes…she’s beautiful…,” Helene’s voice quivered.
Bethany saw tears in her mother’s eyes. Her mother never cried.
“Are you okay, Mom?” Bethany asked.
“I’m fine.” Helene laughed. “I’ve just never seen anything like her before in my life.”
A sleek, black, Ram pickup pulled up alongside them. The young man driving it lowered the passenger side window as his tires ground to a stop in the gravel, and dust floated out behind his truck. Their windows were already down because…no A/C and late spring in Texas.
“Hi!” said the young man.
“Hi,” responded Bethany and Helene in unison.
“I’m Tyler. I’m the trainer here. Are you my new student?” he asked while looking at Bethany.
“Yes,” said Bethany.
“Are you excited?” he smiled through perfect teeth.
“Yes,” Bethany said again.
“She’s just nervous,” said Helene, “I’m Helene and this is my daughter, Bethany.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you both. I’m looking forward to riding with you, Bethany.”
Helene poked her daughter and she responded, “Me too.” And smiled.
“It was nice to meet you both,” said Tyler again.
“It was nice to meet you too,” Bethany and Helene said in unison again.
Tyler raised the passenger window and pulled away. Helene steered their truck back onto the gravel drive, the air was full of the sound of the tires from two trucks grinding over gravel as dust misted about them both.
“Mom, you don’t need to make excuses for me. I didn’t say anything wrong,” said Bethany.
“It’s just that you don’t seem friendly when you just give one-word answers,” said Helene.
“Mom, you worry too much about me. My answers were just fine,”
“But Bethany…”
“Mom, please just drop it. Please. You always do this. This is a good day. You just saw a beautiful red filly. Just enjoy it. Please.”
“Okay, you’re right. I just can’t help but worry. You’re my only child and I love you.”
“Mom, I love you too. Just relax,” Bethany said with a smile.
When they pulled up to the house, a tall, attractive woman with long, rich brown hair flowing down her back was standing in the driveway talking to a young man. The woman, who appeared to be around the same age as Helene turned toward them and waved as Helene pulled their truck to a stop. Bethany waved back.
“Mom, that must be Antonia Silva!”
Helene and Bethany both stepped out of the truck. Bethany ran straight to the woman and gave her a hug, while Helene was left standing by their old pickup, tugging at her baggy, full length skirt and equally baggy top. Her stuck-in-the-seventies look was complete with big gaudy earrings and necklace and un-pedicured toes in sandals.
“Hello, Bethany’s Mom. I’m Antonia Silva,” said the exotically gorgeous woman, complete with lovely accent.
“Helene, and…and, hello, nice to meet you,” Helene stuttered, as she reached out her hand. “I’m sorry my daughter ran up and hugged you like that, she’s not normally that affectionate with strangers.”
“Mom! Stop apologizing for me!”
“It’s okay, Bethany, your mother is just looking out for you, as mothers do,” said Antonia. She then turned toward Helene, took her hand in both of hers, “Helene, what a lovely name.” Antonia then turned back toward Bethany and said, “Bethany this is Strider, he’s my right-hand man. He’ll show you around the place. He graduated last year from Dale City High, so maybe he could give you a few pointers for when you start there in a couple of years. He’s taking classes at community college right now,” Antonia smiled. “I’m going to take the lovely Helene inside to sign some paperwork. Bethany, Strider, you two enjoy yourselves.”
Bethany watched as the two women walked toward the house, then turned back toward Strider and asked, “Your name is Strider, like in The Lord of the Rings?”
“Yes, my dad loves those books,” said Strider.
“So, he went with Strider instead of Aragorn?”
“He thought Aragorn would be too weird.”
Bethany laughed. “Well because Strider is so normal, right?”
“Yeah, he didn’t think it through.” Strider laughed too.
Bethany opened her mouth to respond, but Strider interrupted. “Hey, I know you. I thought you looked familiar. You go to Samuel James Middle School, right?”
“Yes, how do you know that?”
Strider laughed, “I’ve seen you when I pick up my twelve-year-old sister from school, plus you’re in the same grade as her right?”
“Oh, your sister must be Loreth Castillo. Wow, your dad really likes Lord of the Rings!”
“Yes, he does.” Strider laughed again.
Strider put his arm on Bethany’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s take the jeep to the stallion barn. I’ll show you Antonia’s prized black, Arabian stallion.”
“Like the black stallion in the books and movies?!”
“Of course,” said Strider. When they got to the jeep, Strider removed his arm from Bethany’s shoulder and gestured toward the passenger door. “Get in.”
Bethany obeyed and could hardly sit still in the passenger side, she was so excited. She hoped Strider didn’t notice that she flapped her hands a couple of times outside the vehicle before getting in. She managed to force herself to stay calm once seated inside. She was very aware that most people did not do such things, but she was so excited that she couldn’t help herself.
Strider backed the jeep out of the garage and headed out the same gravel road Helene and Bethany had driven toward the house, but instead of turning right to exit the ranch, he veered off to the left where the road split. They rode in silence and arrived at the stallion barn in five minutes, but it had seemed like much longer to Bethany.
Strider pulled up near the barn and stopped the jeep. They both stepped out and Bethany froze in place when she spotted the magnificent, black stallion peering at them over the white, pipe fence just past the barn. His nostrils flared as he whinnied shrilly at them.
Bethany was awestruck by the beauty of the stallion. He’s perfection. Solid black, just like the one from the book series, save a small white star planted in the center of his wide forehead. She was mesmerized by his glistening black coat and four perfect black legs which ended in four black hooves. His thick black mane and tail rounded out his perfection. Atop it all, was a chiseled Arabian head complete with delicate, curved ears and ending in front with the sculpted, flared nostrils. He looked just like the picture of the stallion on the cover of her mother’s copy of The Black Stallion. So many beautiful horses at Kuhaylah Arabians, but the red filly is the most beautiful of all!
“He is beautiful, isn’t he?” said Strider.
“Yes! Will I get to ride him?” asked Bethany.
Strider laughed, “Maybe one day,” he said. “You want to pet him?”
“Yes!”
Bethany snapped out of her reverie and followed Strider to the fence. A small gasp of glee escaped her mouth and she reached up to rub the black stallion’s soft nose.
“His name is AV Olympic Spirit, but we just call him Spirit. His sire is Affirmativ, another beautiful black stallion,” said Strider.
“Spirit,” Bethany repeated as she continued to rub the stallion’s nose.
“So, if I can’t ride Spirit, can I ride the red filly out front?” asked Bethany as she continued to pet the stallion.
“What filly out front?” asked Strider.
“The one with the blonde mane and tail,” said Bethany.
Spirit grew impatient and stomped his foot. The stallion still let Bethany rub his nose though. Animals were always drawn to her.
“He knows it’s feeding time,” laughed Strider. “And I think you’re talking about Fyrestorm,” said Strider, laughing again.
“Why are you laughing?” asked Bethany.
“Nobody has ridden her yet. She arrived here with her dam, Fyrelite, from a ranch in Wyoming,” said Strider.
“Why hasn’t she been ridden? Is Firestorm, one word or two?” asked Bethany.
“She was never touched in Wyoming apparently, so she’s completely wild, and Fyrestorm is one word and it’s spelled with a y,” said Strider.
“But she can be trained right?” When she had seen the red filly, it had immediately become Bethany’s dream to ride her. She felt determined to do so.
“Well, theoretically, yes. But Antonia has just let her run free in the mare’s pasture so far. I’m not sure she’s planning on training her. Fyrestorm has excellent bloodlines, so she might just be planning to use her as a broodmare,” said Strider.
Bethany dropped her hand from Spirit’s nose and her eyes filled with tears. The stallion snorted and stretched his muzzle toward her demanding her attention. Bethany smiled through her tears as she reached out and rubbed his nose again.
“Don’t cry, Bethany. See, Spirit doesn’t even want you to cry. Maybe the filly can be trained eventually. You will have to gain her trust first, though. She doesn’t come near anyone,” said Strider.
“I can do it! I can gain her trust!” And to herself, I’m going to ride Fyrestorm, I just know it!
Just a quick post about my favorite pure Polish Arabian stallion, so everyone will now I’m alive and well! I love this horse and will post something more elaborate about him at a later date.
One of his offspring, the beautiful filly, TA Melania, resides at The Franch along with my horsey loves!
TA Melania (*TA Arapaho x *TA Mariette by *Kordelas)
TA Arapaho currently resides in Dunkirk, New York at Mystic Side Arabians. For more info on this gorgeous stallion, click on the following links:
Picked up this little beauty at Half Price Books! It’s a little beat up, but being the 1968 edition, it really brings back memories. I first read this glorious story about a young boy and wild black stallion when I was in elementary school in the 1970s, so pretty sure this is the edition I first read. You can read about my introduction to this wonderful book series, here.
I’m re-reading this story for about the 50th time and love it as much as the first time! When I finish it this time, I’ll post a review, but spoiler alert…it will be a 5-star review for sure!
I hope all of you are well and staying safe. My plan is to re-read the entire series, so, many reviews will be forthcoming. Also continuing to work on The Red Filly and hoping to have the first draft finished by the end of winter. I hope 2022 will be a good year for all of us!
Dreaming of Arabians 