The Red Filly is a novel about a high school aged girl named, Bethany Resmon. She struggles with fitting in socially and makes many mistakes along the way during the story, even to the point of possibly losing her best friend. The main story arc involves her falling in love with a beautiful half-Arabian filly named, Fyrestorm, that she first lays eyes on as she arrives at Orion Racing Stables to take on her new job as an exercise rider of the racehorses that are raised and trained there. Bethany dreams of riding Fyrestorm one day and even becoming her owner, even though she knows her mom can’t afford the flashy filly.
The cost for a Channillo membership is 4.99/month and the first month is a free trial period, so if you don’t like it you can cancel. With a membership you have full access to the works of hundreds of writers. All proceeds from my series The Red Filly as well as my series, Timmy Tales, will be donated to Becky’s Hope Horse Rescue.
“Oh, Timmy, I’m never going to see you again,” said Gina as she hugged the golden pony’s neck tighter. “They’ll make me go live with my aunt in Oklahoma, I just now it.”
Gina hadn’t heard Antonia ride up behind her on her black stallion, Spirit, as she sobbed into Timmy’s neck.
“You’ll come live with me,” said Antonia.
Gina spun around to face her mentor. “Antonia, I want to stay here more than anything, but my aunt called as soon as she heard my mother died. I’m not eighteen yet, so I won’t have a choice. It’s the law. I think that I have to go with my closest relative.”
Gina turned back to Timmy who hadn’t moved an inch, wrapping her arms back around his neck and sobbing uncontrollably once more.
“Gina, we don’t follow the laws of man,” said Antonia.
Gina continued to sob into the pony’s neck, but Timmy gently shook himself free of the distraught girl and then swung his head, whinnied sharply and as Gina looked on, his eyes flashed red for just a moment.
Gina gasped, “Antonia, there’s something wrong with Timmy’s eyes.”
“There’s nothing wrong with Timmy’s eyes, girl. It’s time for you to open your eyes,” said Antonia.
“Open my eyes?” asked Gina.
“Yes Gina, you’ve mentioned before how it seems that Timmy reads my mind. Well, he does…in a way. We’ve been connected since my early training in Brazil, He’s my familiar, for lack of a better word.”
“Familiar? Like a witch’s familiar?” Gina stepped back from both of them as she asked this.
“Gina, why do you step back? You’re afraid of us now that you know what we truly are? I’m disappointed. I expected more from you,” said Antonia.
Gina stared up at Antonia. It was a lot to process. Her mother’s sudden death, Antonia a witch. Even Timmy, sweet, little Timmy; a monster with red eyes, but no, not a monster. He had always shown her love and so had Antonia. It was her mother who was the monster, always telling her that everyone else was more important than her, and that she was nothing.
Gina remembered when she told her mother about Chet and Cassie putting her on the ‘Ugly List’. It was the list of all the ugliest girls at Dale City High and an annual tradition it seemed for the jocks and cheerleaders to make said list. She told her mother how Chet had whispered loudly enough for Gina to hear as she sat in study hall pretending to read one of her textbooks, that Gina Targoff should be at the top that list since she was the ugliest of all. Tears had been streaming down Gina’s face when she had told her mother what he said.
Her mother responded, “Well they’re better than you, Gina. You’re a very plain, uninteresting girl.”
Gina’s mind returned to the present. Timmy nudged her from behind with his muzzle and Gina looked up at Antonia, sitting astride Spirit, whose black coat glistened in the bright sunlight of late Spring. His tail was held high, pluming out behind him in the Saturday afternoon breeze. His small, curvy, Arabian ears were pricked toward Gina as if he too, were awaiting her answer. The white star on his forehead was catching the light and his nostrils flared in anticipation. He and Antonia were striking against the background of the clear blue, big Texas sky. Antonia had her beautiful black hair pulled back and braided and the aroma of some expensive French perfume, left over from her heydays in the fashion industry wafted down and flitted about Gina’s nostrils. As Gina looked up at her, Antonia smiled and then Gina smiled too.
“So, will you use magic to keep me here?” asked Gina.
“No, Ama has a law firm remember? We’ll do things the old fashioned, legal way.”
“I thought you don’t follow the laws of man?” Gina asked.
Antonia laughed, “Well, okay, we manipulate the laws of man when we need to. Legal ease with a touch of magic. You’re very sharp, Gina. You’ll do well in your new lessons.”
“We’re going to teach you in the ancient ways,” answered Antonia.
“We? You’re not the only witch?”
“Of course I’m not the only one, but my people prefer the term, shaman,” answered Antonia smiling.
“What’s the difference?” asked Gina.
“Well, it’s a matter of semantics, I guess. A little variation in rituals and abilities.”
“Is Ama a witch?” asked Gina.
“Well, not exactly.”
“Not exactly? What does that mean?”
“You have much to learn, child. Give sweet Timmy a hug and then head up to the house. I’ll turn Spirit out and then meet you there,” instructed Antonia.
“But, I have so many questions…”
“And I will attempt to answer all of them,” said Antonia as she wheeled Spirit around and trotted back toward the stallion barn.
Gina turned back toward Timmy. She stood looking at him, uncertain as to whether she should follow Antonia’s directions and hug him again.
He made the decision for her. He stepped up to her and then placed his head and neck gently over her right shoulder. Gina stood completely still for a moment and then slipped her arms around his silky-smooth neck and his flaxen mane fell about her arms and face. She stood like this for what seemed like a very long time, inhaling his sweet, horsey scent. For the first time since she had been hugging the golden pony, she opened her mind and she sensed that he was telling her that he would always protect her. She hugged him tighter, then let go, stepped back and looked into his red eyes and saw the wisdom there for the first time.
She smiled at Timmy, then turned and sprinted toward the house with Timmy trotting at her side, tossing his head as if to say, Gina was truly one of their own now.
The sweet Tennessee Walker in the picture above is a horse that I’m currently sponsoring at Becky’s Hope and her name is Mary.
Like many people, I became fully aware of the impact Becky’s Hope has had in the animal rescue world when I heard about, Bubbles, The Rescue Horse:
His story is inspiring and full of hope. He was obviously a horse who had led a rough life, but he was still brimming with love and hope when Becky’s Hope found him. This is the short version of what led to his rescue, “Bubbles, a smart old horse with frostbit ears, escaped a kill lot by hiding with a group of mini donks being rescued from slaughter and hopping a ride on the Freedom Trailer bound for Becky’s Hope Horse Rescue!”
Sweet Bubbles has since passed away, but he found great joy and happiness in his final years at Becky’s Hope, even falling in love with a mare named, Muffit:
Check out his Facebook page, which is now run by another sweet rescue horse named, Pops:
Here is Pops with Bubbles and Muffit:
Horse rescue is dear to my heart, in fact all animal rescue is important to me. It’s only 50 dollars a month to sponsor a horse at Becky’s Hope and any donation is welcome. Thousands of people view the FB and Twitter posts for Becky’s Hope as well as the FB page for Bubbles The Rescue Horse, so if everyone just donated one dollar that would make an enormous impact.
For more info about Becky’s Hope Horse Rescue, Inc and Bubbles The Rescue Horse, check out the following FB pages, Twitter and their website:
I’ve been following Becky’s Hope Horse Rescue on Facebook for some time and when they posted that they needed a sponsor for the beautiful, Mary, I couldn’t resist. She’s a Tennessee Walker and here is her bio:
Animal rescue is important to me and I’d like to dedicate my life to it through my writing. As I’ve mentioned on my home page I have several rescues of my own. I wish I could save all of them!
Becky’s Hope has saved countless lives and continues to do so. If you sponsor a horse (which is only 50 dollars a month), you get this cool certificate (and the above bio and thank you card):
On the surface, writing seems like it would be easy. I mean, you just sit there in front of a computer or relax in a chair while you write in a spiral notebook… How hard could that be? It’s not like laying concrete in 90 degree heat after all. Yet so many of us writers seem to find it so hard to do.
When I was in my twenties, I couldn’t understand where writers got their ideas. But now in “middle age” (I’m 54), I have more ideas than I can possibly put into book form in one lifetime, so that shuts me down.
Too many choices paralyses progress. Here’s a good article on the subject:
And for me, it’s not just writing, but being interested in so many things (like I think a lot or writers are), such as; astronomy, artificial intelligence, physics, it goes on and on…
Unlike the guy in the article, I didn’t have a childhood with choices or support, in fact, I mostly just had to survive my childhood. But now, I do have choices, which has become a problem. So because I can’t choose, for now, I’m going to keep writing Timmy Tales or other horse related short stories and horse related articles, because one constant in my life has always been horses. Not that I had them growing up, but I read everything I could get my hands on about them, fiction or non-fiction and I watched every movie and tv show that had horses whether or not I liked the show itself.
So for now, I choose horses (and all my other 4-legged loves).
Gina and Flame galloped around the inside edge of the arena as if they were one. It had taken several months for Gina to gain the confidence to even ride the magnificent red stallion, but Antonia had insisted. At first Gina would only ride Flame if Antonia were present. Antonia would stay on the ground in the arena and instruct Gina. Eventually Gina gained the confidence to take Flame out on the trails and Antonia would ride her trusty gelding Blaze, so Flame would stay calm. Flame and Blaze had a close bond because they were born within a month of each other at their original home in Dubai. The half-brothers were a gift given to Antonia by a sheikh she had met during her time in Paris working for Louis Vuitton.
Gina slowed Flame to a canter and reached down to pet his neck. The summer sun reached through the open sides of the arena and caressed the crimson stallion’s coat, making his neck almost sparkle in its brilliance. Gina had been so enchanted by Flame that she hadn’t noticed Antonia escort a man and teenaged boy into the barn. She looked over to see the gate open on the barn side of the arena as she slowed Flame to a trot on the opposite side. She tensed up when she saw the teenager was her classmate, Chet. He followed along behind Antonia as she led Patriot, the gray son of Spirit, their resident black stallion, into the arena, while the man leaned on the outside of the red pipe fencing and watched. Chet saw her at the same time and smiled. Not a friendly smile, but more like a sneer. He held is phone up and the sun reflected off it. Flame was already tense because he reacted to the tense signals coming from Gina’ body. Gina wasn’t prepared when Flame bolted, so when Flame ended up on the other end of the arena, she was left in the dust in their last location together.
Chet started laughing. Laughing at her, the way they always did at Dale City High…
A week had gone by and during that time the video had gone viral, well, viral among Dale City High students anyway. Gina found herself where she often did after being subjected to the almost daily humiliation that was Dale City High. She was crying into Timmy, the golden pony’s, neck while he silently consoled her. She felt something press into her back and turned to find Flame offering his muzzle for a kiss. His best friend, Blaze, watched the trio from a short distance away.
Timmy was in the paddock with the two chestnut Arabians recuperating from an eye infection. The brothers loved the pony because he had been their caretaker when they first arrived at the ranch to help them get adjusted. Timmy had a knack for calming other horses and was often utilized for his “nursemaid” capabilities.
Gina looked toward the paddock gate to see her friend, Strider Castillo. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand and waved as she headed for the gate.
Strider hugged her when she turned toward him after closing the gate. Then he stepped back and looked at her face.
“You’ve been crying. Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” Gina lied.
Strider wasn’t fooled. He had known Gina all through high school.
“It’s those bullies isn’t it? That video going around Facebook?” he asked.
Gina started crying again. He held her again and said, “You have to stop this Gina. When you let them get to you, they win.”
Gina took a deep breath, stepped back and looked Strider in the eye and said, “That’s easy for you to say. You’re starting college this year, so you don’t have to deal with them anymore.”
“Exactly my point. They’re nobody to us. You just have one more year to deal with those losers,” said Strider.
“I thought at least I’d get a break from them in the summer, but it seems like they’ll always be in my life.”
“They won’t,” said Strider. “Trust me.”
Strider and Gina walked into the barn to find Jalissa and Antonia feeding the horses.
Gina’s entire demeanor changed, and she called out, “Jalissa!” as she ran to her and swept her up in a big hug.
The expression of pure joy on Gina’s face at seeing Jalissa was not lost on Strider.
“Gina, why don’t you and Jalissa take the wheelbarrow and get some hay. I’ll finish graining the horses,” said Antonia.
Gina practically skipped off with Jalissa.
The next morning Gina and Strider took Flame and Blaze out on the trails at the ranch. They had been enjoying the clear, crisp morning trotting and loping the two brothers along the flat parts of the trails. Now they rode side by side, talking as they headed back to the barn.
“Gina, I’ve noticed the way you look at Jalissa,” said Strider.
“What do you mean?” asked Gina.
“I mean, it’s obvious you’re attracted to her.”
“She’s beautiful. Anyone would be attracted to her,” said Gina.
“You know what I mean,” said Strider.
“Look Strider, I’m happy for you. You know…that you’re out of the closet and all, but believe it or not some, no, most of the world is straight,” said Gina.
Flame took a couple of high steps because he sensed Gina’s tenseness. She relaxed a little, “Sorry boy,” she said to Flame as she reached down and rubbed the stallion’s neck.
“Yeah, most of the world is straight, I guess. But not you,”
“Strider, just because I notice someone is pretty…well, it doesn’t mean anything. And besides, I don’t want to go to Hell.”
“So you think I’m going to Hell?” Strider laughed.
“No, of course not. You’re too nice, but I would…”
“Now you listen Gina. I know you’ve been raised in this holy roller religious bullshit, but this is what I think. God made me this way, and God doesn’t make mistakes.”
Gina sighed and said quietly, “That’s beautiful.”
They rode the rest of the way to the barn in silence. When they reached the outer, arena gate, they stopped and watched as Chet cantered Patriot around the arena. Patriot rounded the far end and was then heading toward them. When the graceful, gray gelding drew near their position and saw them, he slammed on the brakes. Chet wasn’t ready for that, so he was launched in the air over the front of Patriot’s lowered head and landed on the floor of the arena hard. He started crying. Then he shouted, “Shut off that camera, faggot!”
Gina looked over at Strider and saw his hand raised with phone in hand, obviously videoing the incident with a broad smile spread across the width of his chiseled brown face.
For a moment Gina smiled too. But then she reached over and pulled Strider’s arm down.
“I don’t want to be like them, Strider,” said Gina.
Strider saw the sincerity in Gina’s eyes. He put the phone in his pocket.