978-1-59414-723-4

 Inspiration for WHEN DANGER CALLS didn't really originate with a story idea as much as thoughts about characters I wanted to play with. But I had to let them play somewhere. I'd been to Montana, tagging along on a business trip with my husband, and one of his colleagues suggested taking an afternoon to go horseback riding. I hadn't been on a horse since I was about 12, but I figured, what the heck?  Afterward, I toyed with writing something based on that afternoon, but I never followed through beyond a very brief scene. Several years later, when I set WHEN DANGER CALLS in Montana, I 'borrowed' a few of my experiences on my trip.

 

Here's the aborted beginning of the story:

 From Five Star Expressions, December 10, 2008

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The next time anyone ever said, "Come on, Em.  Be a sport.  It'll be fun," Emily Summerlin swore she would run, not walk, to the nearest hot tub.  But no, she had to go along with the group, and now here she sat atop a kazillion pounds of smelly horseflesh, trying to listen to the guide while Hot Rod snorted, shook his head, and kept moving sideways. 

"Whoa, Hot Rod.  Nice horse," she whispered.  "Let's stand still and listen to the guide.  I think you need to know all this stuff."

"Don't worry about a thing," Heather had said.  "I'm sure these are all seasoned trail nags.  They must do this all day long and know the routine perfectly." 

Hot Rod.  That was not the name of a seasoned trail nag.  Dobbin.  That would have been the horse for her.  She looked at the other four members of the group.  Their horses were all standing quietly. 

Emily strained to make sense of what the guide was saying.

"Now, ladies.  Those of you wearing sneakers—"  Em was sure he was giving her a disgusted look when he said that—"be sure to keep your heels down and toes up.  We don't want anyone dragged through the mountains."  His laugh was anything but reassuring.  Emily pressed her heels down even further, trying to ignore the way her knees, thighs, and calves were already protesting this strange new position.

"The first leg of the ride will take us to an elevation of about 6000 feet," Johnny, their guide, said.  "That's about a thousand feet higher than we are here, so we'll take a short break, let the horses catch their breath, and I'll explain some more of our safety precautions.  Ready? Let's go," he said.  His horse pivoted and started for the trail behind the barn.  Heather, Susan and Molly's horses formed a single file line and followed the guide.

Safety precautions.  Dear God, why not tell her now, when she could still find an excuse to stay behind?  What else did she have to know? 

Trail nags.  Remember.  These are trail nags.  They know what they're doing. 

Em took a deep breath, clutched the saddle horn for dear life and made a clicking sound.  "All right, Hot Rod," she said.  "This is it.  Let's play follow the leader."