Year End Summary

Word Total: 1,080,373

Increase Over Year Prior: 180,234

Novel Total: 11

Increase Over Year Prior: 2

Longest Novel: Transformation, 120,040 words, 216 pages

Shortest Novel: Uncertain, 90,002 words, 158 pages

Summary of the Year:

At long last the writing year is done; I say that not because I disliked the novels written, most of them were quite good and enjoyable, but because other changes in my life have made me rather busy, and especially with the upcoming season, the idea of not having another novel to write shortly is relieving.

Looking back on last year, I am pleased with how most of my books turned out, and still feel like my writing skills are improving, but yet I am still convinced that I have a long way to go.

Unlike previously I have no NaNoWriMo winner banner to display, as I didn’t actually participate this year, even though I still wrote a novel in November — and it would count as a winner by outstripping the traditional 50,000-word goal by nearly 1 ½ times. As anyone who is familiar with NaNoWriMo should know, they updated their website, and I — as many others — found it to be quite frustrating and user unfriendly, thus I elected not to bother with utilising it.

Looking forward to next year, I am eager for many projects, including revisiting my favourite and most beloved of characters — the first set I ever created, inspired by my favourite book series from my early teens — for the first time in seven years, as well as many other interesting stories.

I really hope that all of you have enjoyed reading the excerpts I’ve posted throughout this year and are looking forward to more next year. Until then, Merry Christmas.

R.A. Millet

Next Post: 31 December.

Transformation: Day 20

Word Total: 120,040

Year to Date: 1,080,373

Summary of Events:

Elianne was preparing to ride Enya when some people arrived, including a girl just a few months older than her named Virginia, who joined her on her ride; as they talked Elianne became hopeful that she had a friend in the making. Taylor tried to get Whitney to tell him just how he had succeeded in convincing Taylor's grandparents to let him stay at Adaminaby doing endurance riding, but Whitney refused to tell. Ian reluctantly went out with Ms. Carlyle for New Year's Eve; thankfully he managed to get home before midnight, although not without a Christmas present from Ms. Carlyle that he opened with much trepidation . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

The box was wrapped with what Ian considered slightly childish paper, as it featured anthropomorphic caricatures of snowmen all over it. A store-bought bow was affixed to the top, as well as a small sticker on which was printed To Ian, with love, Yvette.

Carefully Ian removed the bow so that he could invert the present and open it carefully, detaching each piece of tape from the paper, as if he were intent to save the paper for a future date, instead of just being filled with trepidation.

Once each fold was released Ian folded the paper down and tried to see if he could tell what the contents were without fully opening the present, but once he’d released three of the four edges of the paper he discovered that the box containing his gift was probably recycled, as according to the printing on the outside it contained some sort of a small kitchen appliance, and he doubted Ms. Carlyle had bought him such a thing.

Removing the paper all the way, Ian set the paper aside, placing the tape and the bow onto it and then slit the tape that was holding the lid shut before cautiously raising the lid and warily looking inside.

On top of the contents was a neatly-folded piece of paper covered in rather businesslike print. Ian took hold of it with the barest of grasps and set it aside before peering back into the box.

Just as he’d suspected. He removed four different pairs of what he observed was a rather expensive brand of underwear — although he had heard tell that it was highly comfortable.

Checking to ensure the box was empty, Ian was shocked and horrified to see what was on the bottom. He didn’t remove the box, but instead closed the kitchen appliance box back over it and cautiously unfolded the letter, his face red with mortification.

As he’d feared, the professionalism of the print didn’t reflect on the content of the letter; in fact, the letter left him feeling highly uncomfortable — honestly, it made him actually feel naked somehow.

Although he wanted to quit reading before he’d gotten too far, he read every single word and then quickly folded the letter shut and discarded it back into the box as quickly as possible.

Considering the expense — and reported comfort — of the underwear, he was going to acquiesce to keep it, however, all the rest of it was being discarded at once, and he wasn’t merely going to leave it for the garbage man to pick up; he was going to burn it.

He harboured no love for Ms. Carlyle, pretty though she could be. Although she had caught his eye and been appealing at the beginning, as time had passed, he had found her to be thoroughly unappealing in character, and thus he had no intentions of going as far as her letter suggested she wanted to go with him.

Next Post: 30 November.

Transformation: Day 19

Word Count: 114,009

Summary of Events:

Ian talked with his grandfather about what he should do, and was advised to be more confrontational with Ms. Carlyle, to tell her forcefully that what she was doing was bad for her children. Elianne opened her presents and was moved to tears when the shirt she received looked almost identical to one of the shirts her mom had always worn. Taylor was training with his horse when he saw his grandparents drive up; they were intercepted by Whitney before they could reach him and Whitney took them to his office, where Taylor went to look for them once he'd finished his training for the day . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

The aesthetic of the office area was rather austere and professional; the doors were wooden with brass plates and windows of textured glass that blurred the view inside.

Whitney’s office was at the centre, and read Whitney Myers, manager & champion on its brass plate.

Through the window Taylor could see blurred shapes, illuminated via the outside window, but he couldn’t hear what they were saying inside, their voices were muffled, and try though he might he couldn’t make out a single word.

The best he could tell was that there was no anger, no aggravation. They were calm, there was no arguing. Taylor felt a cold fear that Grandmother and Grandfather had convinced Whitney that his place was at the bank and not riding a horse across the outback in a long and dirty challenge to reach the end the fastest.

After a long time — during which Taylor paced and feared he might wear the carpet down — Taylor heard sounds of furniture within and stopped pacing a ways from the door, watching for them to emerge.

Finally the door opened and Whitney, Grandmother, and Grandfather emerged from the office, with Whitney and Grandfather looking quite satisfied, while Grandmother looked like she was merely tolerating something.

They spotted him right away and Grandfather walked up to him calmly.

He proffered his hand. “Merry Christmas Taylor.”

Taylor looked between Grandfather’s face and his hand for a moment, then decided to put his own hand into Grandfather’s grasp, which was firm, but lasted only for a brief, solid shake, then Grandfather released Taylor’s hand and drew out his wallet.

In shocked silence Taylor watched as Grandfather counted out ten green bills, placing them into Taylor’s hand.

Without a word he turned and walked away. Taylor stared after them, watching as they disappeared after Whitney. He counted the bills again. One thousand dollars. Why?

He walked into Whitney’s office — as the door was still open — and looked out at the courtyard and much of the rest of the eastern reaches of the property.

After a few moments he saw Grandmother and Grandfather cross the courtyard and disappear out of sight for only a few moments before their Aston Martin crawled off down the driveway.

What had Whitney said that had gotten them to leave without even bringing up his returning to Sydney with them and taking work in the bank? How had Whitney been able to win the argument?

Transformation: Day 18

Word Count: 108,016

Summary of Events:

Ms. Carlyle came to the riding school mostly to visit Ian and brought her children along, who proceeded to let out all of the horses, which Ian suspected they did because he'd noticed they didn't like him. Having had a day off from training at the stables, Taylor spent some of his afternoon laying around his apartment because he was bored and really had nothing else to do . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

In a token effort of festivity, Taylor had gone to the store and bought some lights and a couple other Christmassy things that were small, allowing them to be tossed up for a few days and then to not take up much space when he put them away for the rest of the year.

It did, honestly, look feeble, but it wasn’t like he was going to have anyone over; in fact, the opposite was actually happening; tonight was Whitney’s annual Christmas party, which had been more than a good time last year, leaving Taylor with high hopes that it would be even better this year.

The only problem was that he was supposed to bring something, and particularly something to eat — as drinks were being provided — and he had no idea what to bring, because he didn’t really want to get a prepackaged something from a grocery store, but he also wasn’t sure that he wanted to make something fancy, and, too, there was the fact that he was honestly all thumbs in the kitchen.

He either dined out in restaurants or bought prepackaged convenience meals from the grocery store because he really had no idea what to do in the kitchen — and, even if he did, he didn’t have the tools to do anything with — which he knew was bad.

What was worse was the fact that he didn’t really have the means to afford hiring a personal cook, unless maybe he could possibly get some cooking lessons somewhere, but he wasn’t sure about that.

Nonetheless, he needed to come up with something, although he was going to have to do it while getting ready, because he didn’t have the time to loaf around and think any longer.

Taylor went to his bedroom and undressed before deciding to wear his graduation suit, after all, he’d gone and gotten it made how he wanted so that he could enjoy wearing it more often.

He went without a tie, certain that his striking yellow waist would do well enough on its own with his green suit, and then went to the bathroom, where he brushed his hair into place, then took a small amount of pomade onto his hands and ran his hands over his hair like he’d seen in the YouTube tutorial video — as he hadn’t been paying attention when the barber had done it — until he was satisfied that he’d worked it all in, then he brushed his hair one more time to straighten everything out and gave a small nod of satisfaction before heading out and sliding on his shoes.

Still he wasn’t sure what to do for a snack, maybe he’d just go to the grocery store and buy the first thing he was struck as wanting to eat. He had a bit of time before he had to be over at the party.

Transformation: Day 17

Word Count: 102,011

Summary of Events:

Taylor vented his frustrations about the behaviour of his grandparents to Whitney while they went on a training ride together, as Whitney had promised to keep Taylor more separated from his nephew. Because of cold and blowing snow Elianne stayed inside and ended up having a talk with her grandmother in which she learned that, although her mom had hated her grandparents, her grandparents didn't hate her mom, but had merely been trying to show her why they thought something she'd done in the past was selfish because they loved her . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

Elianne was silent, even though her curiosity as to just what Mom had done that was so selfish burned in her, especially considering she had no memories of Mom being selfish, and seemed at a loss as to how Mom’s mom could be talking about the same Mom she’d known.

“Honestly, it was that selfish act that killed her,” Mom’s mom whispered, still dabbing at her eyes.

“She just wanted to come home,” Elianne said.

“Because she hated us so much she didn’t even want to be in the same town as us overnight,” Mom’s mom replied. “She came up to her friend’s funeral and turned around to go home immediately afterwards because she hated us so much. She only came for Christmas and Easter because of the fact that the rest of you came along and she would then have you to be with as a way to ignore us and prevent us from reiterating that she was wrong and we were still hoping she would make things right.”

“Really?” Elianne asked.

Mom’s mom nodded. “We were at the funeral. We saw her there. Grandpa managed to get into the food line behind her and tried to talk to her, not even about what she did, but just to say hello, casual small talk. She wouldn’t have it. She swore at him and made a scene like she was, like she was a child, and then she left. She didn’t even actually stay to eat her food.”

She dabbed at her eyes again.

“The weather had turned during the service and so when she informed people she was heading back to Salmon Arm they tried to stop her, but she hated us too much to listen,” Mom’s mom said. “And now she’s gone.”

Tears filled Elianne’s eyes. She had to admit that she was finding Mom’s parents to be pretty nice people, and now seeing Mom’s mom crying at the fact that Mom was gone too really made Elianne wonder why Mom would be so angry at her parents.

The oven sounded, calling Mom’s mom away, leaving Elianne alone with her thoughts, and Elianne had to admit that they left her somewhat conflicted now; she still loved Mom, but the idea that Mom had acted against the advice of people who cared about her all because she hated her parents and didn’t even want to say hello to them was shocking and devastating.

Why couldn’t Mom have just said hello and then gone to a hotel? Why did she have to try to drive in dangerous weather because she was mad? Why couldn’t she have even, if she needed to, have stopped in Prince George for the night or something? Why had she needed to keep driving?

Transformation: Day 16

Word Count: 96,044

Summary of Events:

Ian had another nightmare that actually prompted him to ponder contacting his ex-wife, but he had his doubts her number was still the same, so he went back to bed. Taylor went out for a long ride before running into Whitney's nephew when he got back; the two quickly got into an argument that was halted when Whitney reminded Taylor he was late for a fitting with Irene. Elianne and her mom's dad passed through the Peace River valley and the town of Taylor before arriving at her grandparents' farm . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

A typical red barn with white trim and a black roof stood squarely at the end of the driveway, fenced pastures lay to the right side, while to the left was nestled a small, cosy house with warm light glowing from the windows and smoke trailing from the chimney was to the left.

According to the light shining beside the front door that was, surprisingly, far off to the left side of the house’s front while the steps onto the veranda were centred, the house was blue, with white trims.

They drove past the house to the front of the barn, where, with skilful manoeuvring, Mom’s dad turned the truck around so the trailer was squarely facing the sliding door centred at the bottom.

He shut off the truck and Elianne got out with him, grateful to be no longer sitting, and went around behind the trailer.

She waited as he unlocked and slid open the barn door, turning on warm lights inside, before opening the trailer door.

“Go in,” he said. “Don’t forget to speak to her.”

“Enya,” Elianne said softly.

She saw an ear flick in her direction.

“Hey,” Elianne said softly, reaching up and touching Enya’s rump. “You ready to get out of this thing now?”

She made her way up to Enya’s head and untied the knot.

“Turn her around and lead her out forwards,” he said.

Elianne obeyed and led Enya out.

Enya lifted her head high and pricked her ears at once, looking concerned. Elianne felt concerned.

A horse’s head that was black, yet with a golden tinge to it somehow, came over a stall door and nickered.

“Here, let me,” he said.

Elianne willingly released the lead and watched from the entry as Mom’s dad led Enya toward the horse that had greeted her. Enya looked wary and not pleased to meet the horse at first, but after nosing, seemed to calm.

Mom’s dad led Enya to a stall at the far end whose door was open. Elianne hurried over and watched as Enya walked inside and sniffed everything carefully, taking a drink of water from the round basin that appeared to be inside something of a holder in the front corner.

Enya then turned to the trough full of lush, green hay that ran along the side wall of the stall which was shared with the stall next door, in which an older-looking bay skewbald stood, watching Enya with intrigue.

“There’s a bin of oats in the milk house, fill the scoop and bring her some,” Mom’s dad said. “I’ll get the tack.”

Elianne found a gap between stalls on the right hand side — working from the back — and followed that past a set of stairs and into a room with a lower ceiling than the rest of the barn that had one wall lined with two tiers of saddle racks, another with round bins that were labelled with their contents.

Finding the one labelled oats, Elianne filled the scoop and returned to Enya’s stall, where she slipped inside and sprinkled the oats across the hay so that Enya had to hunt for them.

Transformation: Day 15

Word Count: 90,123

Summary of Events:

Taylor went to be fitted again by Irene and got very favourable reviews on his new haircut by her; they both observed that it went well with the outfit she was making for him. Ian oversaw the breeding of his mare to a Hungarian stallion who was visiting New Zealand to hopefully sire foals with several mares of his breed, which was the same as that Ian's mare. Elianne woke up with her alarm and packed the last of her things before her mom's dad arrived to pick her up; after they'd loaded her things Elianne went to get Enya . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

She haltered Enya and started leading her toward the truck. Mom’s dad was surprisingly close behind her.

“You have a good bond with her,” he commented.

Elianne nodded. “I visit her every day, and ride her as often as possible.”

“Throw the lead over her neck,” he said. “Make sure she won’t step on it.”

Curious, Elianne obeyed.

“Now let go,” he said.

Elianne stopped and looked at him.

“Let go of the rope and walk to the trailer,” he said.

Admittedly, Elianne had misgivings, but she figured she should do it before he made her do it, and so started walking toward the trailer, she heard hooves thudding softly against the ground behind her, and Enya’s head stayed ahead of her elbow.

Elianne stopped perpendicular to the side of the trailer, Mom’s dad came around her and put a hand on the door latch.

“Does she load and trailer good?” he asked.

“She hasn’t been in a trailer since she came here,” Elianne replied.

He nodded and unlocked the back of the trailer before opening the latch, Enya didn’t look at all anxious.

Once the door had swung open he stepped up into the trailer and moments later a light shone from within. He stepped out.

“Walk in,” he said.

Elianne did so and Enya stayed as if glued to her side the whole way, not panicking at the great, loud thuds her hooves made on the trailer’s floor, in spite of the textured rubber mat that covered the metal.

“Tie her up, just like you’re going to groom her,” he said from outside.

“To what?” Elianne asked.

“The post,” he replied.

Elianne did so, tying the quick-release knot Mom had taught her. She stroked Enya, pleased that her mare had entered the trailer so calmly.

She heard a low murmur and Enya flicked her ears back. Elianne watched as Mom’s dad came in with a small flat-backed black bucket, keeping a hand softly on Enya the whole way.

He clipped the double-sided clip whose other end held the bucket’s handle to a ring near to the post, Enya immediately dove her nose into the bucket and Elianne soon heard the familiar sound of a horse eating oats, including the sloppy sound of the abundant saliva horses generated while eating the likes of oats and apples, particularly.

Mom’s dad shut the light off and led the way out of the trailer, closing the door quietly behind Enya and locking it shut.

“Very even-keeled horse,” he said. “Right sort of temperament for a young rider.”

Elianne nodded.

He sighed and looked toward the house, in the light from the house Elianne thought she saw a wave of sadness pass over his face, but it was gone by the time he looked to her.

“You said goodbye to everyone?” he asked.

“Yes,” Elianne replied.

“Well, then let’s get going, I promised Grandma we’d be home in time for dinner,” he said.

Transformation: Day 14

Word Count: 84,067

Summary of Events:

Elianne went out and rode Enya around while some people came to view the house and thought about what little she remembered of her mom's parents, whom she hadn't seen in about three years. Taylor went on some errands, still seething about Whitney's nephew's unpunished cheating. Ian was invited over to Ms. Carlyle's parents' house to meet her parents and children, who had gone down for a swim in the Tasman Sea for a bit . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

“Oh, here they are,” Ms. Carlyle said.

Ian looked up and saw two adults and two children in beach clothes walking toward the house. The adults looked older than Mum and Da, the man having mostly grey hair and the woman’s hair quite obviously having been dyed an auburn colour.

The children both had brown hair, like Ms. Carlyle, and looked to be missing a liveliness that most children about their age had. They did look like they were happy, but there was something missing in their happiness, it wasn’t true happiness, it was forced.

As they got closer the foursome disappeared behind the corner of the main body of the house.

After a long time Ian heard a child’s feet quickly hurrying across the floor. He turned to the corridor.

“Mummy! Mummy! We–”

The girl had started crying out before she’d come into view, but as soon as she laid eyes on Ian she stopped short in speech and motion.

“What Piper?” Ms. Carlyle asked.

She looked warily between Ian and her mother, Ian felt badly and looked away to Ms. Carlyle, who was still waiting for an answer.

“Piper, tell Mummy,” Ms. Carlyle urged.

“Nothing,” Piper said subduedly.

Ian looked over his shoulder. Piper trudged over to the door in the wall directly across from the windows and disappeared into the room.

“She’s just shy,” Ms. Carlyle said cheerily.

Sliding his gaze over to Ms. Carlyle, Ian didn’t think that Piper was shy, she hadn’t looked shy, she’d looked upset, as if some hope she’d held had been dashed, and he felt like a leaden blanket of guilt had been placed over his chest.

Not so hurried footsteps, but yet footsteps that were still clearly those of a child sounded again and Ian glanced toward the corridor.

The boy emerged without a word and stopped. He stared at Ian, shocked at first, but his whole countenance slowly cooled and hardened until he was glaring savagely at Ian.

Pricked again by guilt, Ian looked away at the Tasman Sea, it’s cold water rippling, but not rising close enough to pick him up and pull him under.

He heard the feet — harder in their striking of the floor than before — walk away.

“They’ll get more comfortable in time,” Ms. Carlyle said brightly.

Ian had severe misgivings about such things, if he was honest, but he said nothing, sure that Ms. Carlyle would only get upset with him and argue.

Transformation: Day 13

Word Count: 78,042

Summary of Events:

Taylor was practise racing against Whitney's nephew, who took a shortcut and hit Taylor's horse with a whip to win, which drew Taylor's ire severely. Elianne was summoned downstairs and told that she would be moving in with her mom's parents, as Uncle Wade had told her was likely going to happen. Ian got home from work and was called by his mum, with whom he chatted while he made supper, telling her about Ms. Carlyle and his concerns about what she was doing to her family . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

“And then, on the other hand, there’s my own considerations,” Ian said. “For one thing, I’ve noticed that she’s almost hopelessly selfish, not even her children matter to her, she doesn’t see how they might be hurting. I’m sure they must be hurting, they probably don’t understand.”

“Very possibly, yes,” Mum agreed. “Although how does that affect you?”

“Well, it doesn’t really,” Ian admitted. “It just popped up.”

“But what are your own considerations?” Mum asked.

“My own,” Ian replied. “You know Mum.”

“My granddaughter?” Mum asked softly.

“Yes,” Ian replied. “And her mother.”

“I understand,” Mum said.

“So she took me out to dinner, bashed her husband and all that, and then she got this utterly hare-brained idea that she’d like to get a job with me at the stables,” Ian said. “And yet I had to tell her what a horse was.”

“Has she worked before?” Mum asked.

“She got a financial degree and wanted to be a CEO,” Ian replied. “She worked in finance somewhere in Christchurch until she decided her husband wasn’t thinking about her enough and came out here to live with her mum and dad.”

“Why doesn’t she want to work in that?” Mum asked.

“Because apparently her husband was in the business too,” Ian replied. “Thankfully — and this was why I attempted to take her out for dinner–”

“Attempted?” Mum asked.

“Yes, we never made it because she didn’t want to answer my one question, so I pulled over to try and coax her to answer it and our discussion went on so long the reservation time had passed and the table was likely given away, and I was just so exhausted from arguing with her that I didn’t even have the desire to dine with her in public,” Ian replied.

“Anyways, I’m sorry to interrupt,” Mum said.

“Thankfully I convinced her that, in order to get work at a stables she’d have to have a good ten years worth of horse knowledge, and she doesn’t even have a month’s worth, and so I urged her to find a job somewhere that she has more knowledge and experience so that she can make more money faster,” Ian finished.

“And you’re hoping that’s the end of it?” Mum asked.

“Yes, if I’m honest,” Ian replied. “But yet, well . . . for the sake of her husband and her children, recalling my own experiences in both positions, I’d almost like to try and do what I can do to get her to realise her folly and rebuild those bridges.”

“To be the sort of intervention that no one ever was for you,” Mum said.

“I guess, yeah,” Ian replied.

He set his plate down on the dining table and sat down.

“I do hope you can be successful,” Mum said. “But she may not want to see, she may be content, if not even revelling, in her blindness.”

“Hopefully then I’ll be able to get far enough away from her to be spared from watching,” Ian said.

Transformation: Day 12

Word Count: 72,007

Summary of Events:

Ian arranged to take Ms. Carlyle out for dinner again, in hopes of addressing his concerns with her; because she wanted him to drive her he decided to bring up the topic on the way, seeing as she couldn't rightly jump out of a moving vehicle if she got upset to the point of wanting to leave; his first question was why she went and married her husband if she hated him so much, to which she replied that she was desperate, and so had married the first man she'd found . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

“And yet here you are running away from your husband straight at the first man that you’ve run into since,” Ian replied. “Are you sure it’s wise to go with the first man?”

“You’re much different than he is Ian,” Ms. Carlyle said.

“Maybe,” Ian replied.

“Absolutely,” Ms. Carlyle said. “You don’t know him, do you?”

“No,” Ian replied. “But you’ve told me a lot about him.”

“Look, Ian, I’m a mature adult, I know what I’m doing,” Ms. Carlyle replied.

“But is what you’re doing wise?” Ian asked.

“Of course it is,” Ms. Carlyle replied. “I’m getting away from a worthless, selfish, anal man and finding a better man who will meet my needs and not whinge about his own.”

“I’m inclined to disagree with you Ms. Carlyle,” Ian said. “Not about how I would treat you, but about the wisdom of your actions. After all, this isn’t just about you.”

“Don’t say it needs to be about him,” Ms. Carlyle snapped. “He’s just desperate for attention he doesn’t deserve.”

“This is about your children as much as anyone,” Ian replied.

“And they’re better off for being away from him,” Ms. Carlyle said. “This is good for them to know what freedom is like.”

“Freedom from what?” Ian asked.

“Their father’s complaining and toxically selfish attitude,” Ms. Carlyle replied.

Ian had his doubts the children were really away from toxically selfish attitudes, but made no comment on that. “Do your children see this good in it?”

“They’re starting to get used to being without him,” Ms. Carlyle replied. “They never knew the full scope of it, but I think they’re adjusting quite well, really.”

“Children can be very convincing,” Ian said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ms. Carlyle asked.

“They could just be putting up a good front,” Ian replied. “You can’t really tell for sure sometimes.”

“I know my children Ian, I know what they need and how they’re feeling,” Ms. Carlyle replied.

“If you say so,” Ian replied.

“Look, Ian, I appreciate your concerns,” Ms. Carlyle said. “But I know how this all works, I know how to be a parent, I know what I’m doing.”

Ian nodded, but said nothing. Even if he didn’t have as much child-rearing experience as she did, he did know how to be a child; he had a lot of vivid memories from his childhood — in fact, he had too many vivid memories from his childhood if he was honest — and it was on those memories that he based his doubts.

“Now can we move on from the past and focus on the present?” Ms. Carlyle asked. “I want you to tell me everything you know about horses so that I can get a job.”

“We were talking about the present the whole time Ms. Carlyle,” Ian replied.

“There were certainly a lot of references to the past,” Ms. Carlyle said.

Transformation: Day 11

Word Count: 66,067

Summary of Events:

Ms. Carlyle stopped by the riding school to talk to Ian, who was a little irritated when she suggested she could get a job at the riding school and ended up telling her off harshly. Elianne went to her uncle's house to ask of she could keep Enya there and learned there was the possibility she might be moving all the way to where her maternal grandparents lived. Taylor finished his training for the day and was introduced by Whitney to Whitney's niece Irene, a fashion design student who was looking for models . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

Feeling a little self-conscious about changing clothes in front of a woman he’d just met, Taylor elected to go down to the washroom and change into the rather appealing outfit that fit him rather perfectly.

He carried his own clothes back upstairs — lest Yesenia accidentally throw them in the laundry or something — and immediately Irene was looking him over and shifting the fabric in various directions.

“May I ask why your name is Irene?” Taylor asked. “It seems a little . . . old, if you know what I mean.”

“It was my great-grandmum’s name,” Irene replied. “I went for a spell where I didn’t really like it and went by my middle name, but then I found out just how awesome of a woman my great-grandmum was, plus I ended up in a class where there were three other girls who had my middle name as their first name, so I switched back to eliminate confusion.”

“Oh,” Taylor said.

“Is there a special reason behind your name?” Irene asked.

“Not that I know of,” Taylor replied.

“How many times do you have your mobile set to remind you of a message?” Irene asked.

“I don’t think you can adjust it,” Taylor replied.

“Then why is it incessantly sounding?” Irene asked.

Taylor sighed and looked over at his clothes, inside of which his mobile was hiding in his pants pocket. “Because my relations are mad at me.”

“Oh?” Irene asked. “Why?”

“Because they want me to work at a bank and I don’t want to,” Taylor replied.

“Working in a bank would be deathly boring I think,” Irene said.

“And I second that heartily,” Taylor replied. “The thing is, I’m the only biological Creighton left.”

“What do you mean?” Irene asked.

“For, I think it’s six generations, or I would be the sixth generation, one of the two, a Creighton has worked at the Commonwealth Bank of Australia,” Taylor replied. “Typically it’s been the oldest male of each generation, although after my dad’s footballing career got cut short he joined the banking business too, even though he had a brother already working in it with my grandfather. My uncle, however, married a woman who is physically unable to bear children, thus, although they have a son, he isn’t biological because he was adopted, and since my grandfather had only two sons, that left my dad to produce an heir and I’m it.”

“So you’re expected to get work at the bank to continue the family tradition,” Irene said.

“Exactly,” Taylor replied. “Except that we’ve already established working in a bank as boring.”

“So you’d rather come here and ride horses,” Irene said.

“And they’re all up in arms about it,” Taylor replied. “I should’ve changed my mobile number on top of disappearing under the cover of dark, but I didn’t, so it’s my own fault.”

“Surely they’ll give up eventually,” Irene encouraged.

“Eventually can take a long time,” Taylor replied dismally.

Transformation: Day 10

Word Count: 60,032

Summary of Events:

Ian had a nightmare featuring Ms. Carlyle and, after waking, spent nearly a half an hour thinking about how allowing a romantic relationship to develop between the two of them was a bad idea. Taylor arrived at Whitney's farm and took his horse out for a training ride. Elianne, tired of packing because she was sad to be moving, thought about what to do with Enya, who was the only horse on the property not for sale — and that only because her grandparents had told her dad that she needed time to say goodbye to Enya . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

Elianne didn’t like that idea. She didn’t want to say goodbye to Enya, she wanted to keep Enya with her forever, but as of yet she didn’t know how because she didn’t know where she was going to be living, as, apparently, no one thought it important to tell her where she was going.

Slowly and wearily Elianne slid off of her bed and made her way downstairs. She wanted to spend as much time as possible with Enya, she didn’t want to spend her time packing.

When she got outside Elianne saw Dad, Gramp, and two people looking at Red, who was grazing contentedly, obviously having already come over and greeted them and discovered that they weren’t bringing him food.

Elianne grabbed Enya’s halter out of the barn and walked out to the pasture. Enya came up to the fence right away, nickering. Elianne haltered her and led her out and toward the barn.

Before too long she noticed one of the people was watching her lead Enya, and resentment burned in her. They were here to look at Red, not at her horse, who was not for sale.

She led Enya into the barn and tacked her up slightly roughly — thankfully Enya was a quick-to-forgive horse; and Elianne was pretty sure Enya understood that she was struggling emotionally too — before leading her back out again, where the woman who’d been watching her lead Enya to the barn now stood.

“Thank you,” the woman said, reaching for the reins.

Elianne snatched them to herself defensively. “No.”

“You were tacking her up for me to try her,” the woman said. “I’d like to try her.”

“I was not,” Elianne snapped. “This horse isn’t for sale.”

“Now your father said every horse on this property is for sale, and we are interested in that chestnut my husband’s looking at and this bay,” the woman replied.

“He wants her to be for sale, but she isn’t,” Elianne snapped. “Gram and Gramp wouldn’t let her be listed because I said I wasn’t selling her.”

“You can’t keep a horse in your backyard in town,” the woman said, chuckling slightly and looking at Elianne condescendingly.

“I know that,” Elianne spat. “And I will find a place for her to stay that’s bigger than a backyard.”

“We’ll provide her with a good home and a good family,” the woman said.

“I don’t care,” Elianne snapped. “She’s my horse. She goes where I go, and I’m not going to your house.”

Immediately Elianne mounted Enya and ordered her off at a canter. If Dad was going to try and sell Enya on her then she was going to go to Uncle Wade’s right now and secure a place for her horse to stay.

Transformation: Day 9

Word Count: 54,017

Summary of Events:

Taylor left his aunt's house at four in the morning, but didn't get too far before he was pulled over by police because, in leaving, he'd accidentally triggered his aunt's burglar alarm; thankfully the officers realised it'd been an accident and let him be on his way. Ian met Ms. Carlyle for dinner and told her mostly lies about his early life and childhood before finally the conversation switched to being about her life. Elianne arrived home from school and was shocked to see a For Sale sign on the front lawn and despaired how she would possibly find a way to keep Enya while living in town. Taylor finally arrived in Adaminaby, where his flat awaited him . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

He followed Whitney into the building, where Whitney gave him the keys, yet still led the way to the elevator, which they rode up to the top floor before stepping into a little niche which had a door on each side.

“This one’s yours,” Whitney pointed to the left.

Taylor put the key he hadn’t used — which wasn’t as large and thick as the other one — into the lock and turned it before opening the door and stepping into a little foyer. A closet door was to his right, a man door straight ahead.

Stepping forward, Taylor opened it and found a washer and dryer stacked against the back wall.

“That’s sort of small,” Taylor commented.

“Not that you need an expansive laundry room,” Whitney replied.

“If you say so,” Taylor replied.

Turning to his right, which led out of the foyer, Taylor was immediately taken by the stunning view out the windows of the Snowy Mountains. It looked beautiful, the sort of thing he couldn’t possibly ever tire of seeing.

Whitney prodded him into the kitchen where he observed, with intrigue, the fact that the stove was angled into one of the corners of the kitchen, leaving the kitchen with only one ninety-degree corner, immediately beside the sink.

Between the stove and the living room was a stretch of counter that could be used as something of a bar area, then was the living room, complete with a gas fireplace and large windows that gave a full view of the Snowy Mountains that, really, pretty much surrounded Adaminaby.

The dining room was off to the side and had a French-style windowed door leading out onto a rather sizeable balcony that also afforded him a phenomenal view of the mountains.

There was even a barbecue already placed that, upon further examination, Taylor discovered was connected to the flat by a gas line, which struck him as quite convenient.

When he turned around to go back inside Taylor discovered there were two doors leading back into the house, the left door led into the dining room, the right, into the master bedroom.

Taylor tried his key in the lock of the door into the bedroom and found it opened it, so he went in that way and found that it was quite nice and roomy, with a sizeable closet.

He went out the interior door of the bedroom and found himself facing the bathroom, which was nice, as far as bathrooms went.

The last room he explored was a guest bedroom that was almost as nice as the master bedroom, except that it lacked a window, leaving it dark if the door was closed.

Returning back out to the living room, Taylor found Whitney leaning against the kitchen counter.

“So,” Whitney said. “What do you think of it?”

“It’s really nice,” Taylor replied. “I like it.”

Transformation: Day 8

Word Count: 48,134

Summary of Events:

Ian arrived at work to learn that the woman had called the school to ask Ian out to dinner, which had left the owner of the school unimpressed until Ian explained what had happened. Taylor, after dining with his aunt, packed the last of his things into his SUV and went to bed so he'd have enough rest to wake up at four in the morning, as he wanted to leave when no one would notice, as even though his maternal grandparents had seemed to understand his reasons, his paternal grandparents were mercilessly haranguing him. Elianne's dad was challenged by his brother to see if he could still ride an endurance course and, as expected, went off course, but wouldn't allow himself to be led back by his father, so Elianne, her uncle, and several others rode out to help catch her dad; shortly after they sighted him and made to cut him off he took off at a gallop and Elianne took a different trail to cut him off . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

Enya charged forward at a gallop faster than Elianne had ever ridden, the hot, fast, quarter-mile gallop that Enya’s breed was famed — and named — for.

Surging into the fork, Elianne was ready with a left heel to Enya’s side and a slide forward with her right hand to bring Enya’s head around quickly, which served to stop Enya and get her blocking the trail all in one.

Elianne’s sides heaved as much as Enya’s, and she felt tense as she heard the sound of galloping hooves approaching until finally Dad and Red charged around the bend.

Red, seeing the obstacle Enya presented, slowed immediately, and in spite of Dad’s vicious efforts not only slowed to a canter, but then a trot, and finally a walk, until he halted with his nose nearly touching Elianne’s knee.

Dad was quite upset, more than Elianne had ever seen him upset before, and tried to goad Red, who looked quite exhausted, to move, swearing at his horse in his efforts.

Elianne reached over and unfastened Red’s bridle. Red dropped the bit easily and seemed grateful for the relief. Elianne rubbed his forehead and the stripe down it.

Gramp appeared soon and looked astonished to see Elianne blocking the trail, but said nothing and merely haltered Red from the saddle and took the bridle, hanging it onto his saddle horn.

The rest charged up moments later and came up short, rather surprised.

“How did you get here Elianne?” Uncle Wade asked.

“There was a cutoff and I took it,” Elianne replied.

“You should’ve mentioned it,” Uncle Wade said.

“I’m sorry,” Elianne replied.

“See, I made it to the end!” Dad cried. “I made it!”

“No, you didn’t Quinn,” Gramp said firmly. “We’re down the west side of the mountains and halfway to Silver Creek.”

“But then how are Wade and Elly here?” Dad asked.

Elianne clenched her jaw.

“They rode out to help me stop you,” Gramp replied.

Dad looked shocked and crestfallen.

“These are the markers you passed,” Elianne said, holding up the left rein. “Do you see them?”

“Yes,” Dad replied.

She lowered the left rein and raised the right. “These are all the markers you did not pass.”

“There’s more,” Dad said.

“Yes,” Elianne said.

“It should’ve taken you an hour to complete that course,” Gramp said. “What has it been now, four hours?”

Uncle Wade radioed Aunt Farrah and was told that it was exactly four hours, seventeen minutes, twelve seconds, and seventy eight milliseconds.

Elianne looked at Dad. Tears filled his eyes and started streaming down his cheeks, but he said nothing.

“Take us up that cutoff,” Uncle Wade instructed. “I’m sure it’ll get us home faster.”

Nodding, Elianne turned Enya and led the way silently, although, as she rode, tears filled her own eyes and streamed down her cheeks; she wasn’t sad that Dad’s endurance riding career was finished, but she was devastated to think of how much more likely it’d just gotten that they were going to have to move into town, where she couldn’t keep Enya.