Alicia Stephens Martin's Blog

Do you ever feel overwhelmed?

I have been working on my next novel, The Secret Life of….. This project has been lurking on my computer and consistently calling my name for decades- no kidding. I have now vowed to address this novel before I dive deeper into another.

The Secret Life of….

The words and chapters have been ruminating inside me and I have reached
the crucial point of dissection; too many words. This stage of editing can be daunting. When I need a break or diversion, I head to a place of enlightenment, a place that has changed me forever with no words, only hugs and whinnies!

THE BARN

Photo credit Susan Hale

I have found that when feeling overwhelmed or unappreciated, volunteering is simply fulfilling because of what it gives back to my heart, especially when the staff is furry!

The incredible healing of horses!

Let me tell you about Talisman Therapeutic Equestrian Center, where horses
provide healing!

After even one session of working and watching these creatures transforming the lives of children, veterans, the elderly, and every human they touch,  I can return to my writing desk changed and recharged to tackle the novel or other issues. There is never a moment after I volunteer that I feel unappreciated. Instead, I leave feeling blessed. They have given so much more to me than I could give them. If you search for an uplift in your life, please consider volunteering or donating. A single lesson requires multiple assistants along with the instructor. All of which is funded by donations.

So on to the dissection of The Secret Life of…. Sorry the title is a secret!
But hopefully coming soon!

Reading can relieve life pressures too!
What better than novels with furry characters and strong WOMEN!

Have I told you I am afraid of birds? (Thank you, Alfred Hitchcock and his dreadful movie,
The Birds.)

Although this fear of feathered friends has not stopped me from reaching the age of retirement, I
have decided to include birds in my future vision.
Meet Miss Piggy, a Gyrfalcon. At our first meeting, Miss Piggy was only 17 weeks old, but not small in size by any means. She was already on her way to a possible 63 inch wingspan. Ms. Piggy will grow to become one of the largest breeds of falcons in existence. This raptor is known for its size and powerful hunting abilities.

Why would I even consider entering her cage, and how would she be connected to my vision for retirement?

In the above picture, Falcons are hooded by Falconers to remove their primary sense of sight, which is extremely sensitive. This allows for safe transport and controls their environment to focus on training. Removal of the hood indicates the time to hunt and builds a trust relationship between falcon and falconer. When the hood is on the falcon, it is called being hoodwinked

Recently, I have been focused on expanding the list of publications I query. The beauty
industry included. I have stored a collection of journals from my forty years of
practice that are jammed on every shelf of an old refrigerator.

In my past, I have neglected to send even one article to publications specializing in cosmetology, barbering or simply beauty for one simple reason. I was hoodwinked much like Miss Piggy in the above picture. Hoodwinked by one critic’s remarks.

Years prior, I had queried a well-known beauty industry organization proposing an article for
their publication. The rejection came quick in one sentence, “We only accept articles from our visionaries.” No apology or no let me down gently with an, “after review, we simply cannot…”Just a blunt, “You are not one of our visionaries.”

A single rejection ended my querying in the industry I spent decades contributing to in so many ways, from simply styling to owning a business, and mentoring. And although rejection and writing go hand in hand, this response sliced my heart. I felt hoodwinked into being a chicken!

Placing your work into the public eye is like presenting your soul on a platter. Rejection is the serrated edge that shreds it into pieces. I was not confident enough to try again at that time.I can tell you one thing: At this age, I do have a vision. I will be writing and submitting as I turn the corner in my next chapter of life. This time before submitting, I reached out to the publication editor, “Just whom do you consider a visionary?”  To my surprise, she answered. “We have a visionary team, consisting of our largest sponsors, you know, Redken, Goldwell, TIGI etc…”

Well, I too am a visionary, and I will not be hoodwinked again! I decided my future retirement will include inspirational people and organizations who offer more than a simple rejection.
Organizations like Talisman Therapeutic Riding Center, which bring hope through equines and people like Jon Shaw and, of course, Miss Piggy.

When I heard about Jon Shaw through a fund raiser at Talisman. I immediately was intrigued. I had to research this man who is a lifelong expert on the ancient art of Horseback Falconry. This is not a sport but a form of hunting before even the invention of the musket. When he invited me to join Miss Piggy’s socialization training as she learns to hunt on horseback how could I say no. Never suspecting I would truly become an involved participant.

Notice my eyes are shut. But I am smiling at this accomplishment not only for Miss Piggy but mainly me! Thankfully, Yuma (the equine expert) was relaxed for all of us and a pro at her job!

My retirement vision:

Don’t be hoodwinked,

join the hunt, face your fears!

Please join me as I write future articles (and novels) about the journey with Miss Piggy, Jon Shaw, and Talisman Therapeutic Equestrian Center, where they deliver hope to so many.

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Stuff! Too much stuff. I have a treasure trove of family heirlooms passed through my generations; strange glassware, unusual statues, moth-smelling scarves, gaudy jewelry and yes, a bear rug. (More on the rug later!)

As I am packing, I have become quite envious of my daughter who has developed into a minimalist. With the growing conviction that I do not want to leave her with the same burden others left me, I decided not to encumber my life with extra baggage from this move.

Besides, nothing last forever, right?

Wrong…

 Yes, most things fade … except memories, feelings, and smiles will imprint on your heart forever.

Take my glass camel pitcher or is it a teapot? The one I have wrapped and toted from house to house even though it’s ancient and chipped. The pitcher is the oddest; a camel lying down, the lid, his colorful saddle with a rattan handle.
Look closely and you can see the
broken green saddle bar.

 The pitcher belonged to my Great Aunt Hilda who had a perpetual smile and a seventy-year marriage to the love of her life. She would be well over 130 years if alive. Aunt Hilda made everyone smile even though she broke almost everything she touched. My mother once said that I took after her. “Just like Aunt Hilda, you are shushly.”

My mother explained how her Aunt Hilda would dust for my grandmother who was overwhelmed with a houseful of seven children. “She needed help caring for her family, so she called on Aunt Hilda.” I remember Mom giggling, “she broke everything when she dusted. But she sure made us smile.”

When my mother passed, I rediscovered the camel glassware. The discovery made me flash back to Great Aunt Hilda. Every summer morning as a child when she watched me, she would cook me a Birdie in the Nest egg sandwich. (Click on the words to see the recipe!) I would spend the morning playing UNO with them at an outdated metal framed kitchen table with the red-Formica top. My Aunt would howl every time Uncle Albert or I yelled UNO, and the jovial rolls under her chin and folded arms jiggled like we were experiencing an earthquake.

 As I grew older, Aunt Hilda had additional reasons that made me smile.  Reasons my mother would shudder in horror about if she knew. Great Aunt Hilda had no reservations explaining the Birds and the Bees. A woman ahead of her time, she enlightened me on the subject and how enjoyable relations could be.

Our little secret. Perhaps, those secrets are for a later story.

The camel, broken or not, is a priceless relic to me. I would be tossing Aunt Hilda in the trash not to mention my mother’s smile.

How could I throw her away?  The family relics like the camel; glassware, statues, scarves, jewelry and yes, the bear rug in the first picture, all spark cherished memories.

I came to a decision I could live with…I would share my smiles!

I didn’t shoot the bear. I couldn’t, I am not by any description a hunter. But when my daughter begged for a bear rug for our rustic and western themed décor, after much loss in our lives, I wanted to make her smile. I had to find one. By pure luck, or should I say by divine angels, a dear client had one to give away! I had no choice but to inherit it. For many years, the bear stained a smile on our hearts and not to mention was an interesting topic of conversation in our home.

Today I am moving and the fuzzy bear would never fit into my coastal decor.  I loved the bear rug, and my client, who without knowing free of charge, created glimmers of happiness in our chaotic lives.

I decided to pass the feeling on.

When I received a ‘thank you’ and a snapshot of the young boy embracing our beloved bear, I was left with a delightful lasting memory as well as his mother and grandmother.

Letting go is redeeming and refreshing especially when permanently stamped with a smile that may linger forever. Some things do last forever!

I am not positive to whom I will share the unique camel pitcher, but I do hope my stories will leave every reader with an interminable impression. One that makes them smile to escape from their chaotic world!

Order your copy today:
TabortonBooks
Amazon

Have you ever been so nervous that you feared freezing mid-sentence or blurting out the wrong word? My recent TV interview with Amy Khem was indeed a privilege but, I almost cancelled because I was overwhelmed with apprehension.

At the Good Day PA on ABC27 Studios with Host Amy Kehm!

Everyone at Good Day PA on ABC27 was professional and inviting. However, my insides were electrified with terror. I feared becoming star-struck, staring into space, consumed in a complete daze the moment the director announce,”on the air in five, four, three, two, one…” I imagined being frozen in a hypnotic trance, mumbling the words, “Where was I going with this?”

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At my age, this phenomenon of brain relapsing can happen several times a day, only this time I would be in front of thousands of viewers. Amy Kehm the host, proved to be an expert.
She promised to pull me through the interview, and rescue she did!

Amy saved the moment like many others in my life; my publisher, my editor, my grammar guru, and the one beta-reader I distressed over more than any other reader. The thought of this particular reader reviewing my literary labors of love sends daggers into the pit of my stomach!

Fear coerces us to say no to new adventures. Fear makes copping out easy. Ultimately, this creates feelings of regret. So it is a blessing when there is an Amy Kehm or a beta-reader who can restore your morale to new heights. I remember, (as a teenager who worried too much about what others thought,) when another living
creature rescued me from a dark abyss.

It was a beautiful day for a riding lesson on my heart horse. A thoroughbred named Joe. At the time, I did not own a horse of my own, but the instructor graciously offered Joe for me to ride or simply groom whenever I wanted. What a gift. We developed as quite a team, Joe and I, after one moment when I learned that Joe always had my back.

It was the final show of the year. The worse kind. A jump off with other students at the farm. Students my age that I wanted to impress with my style. Instead of the typical riding jodhpurs, I foolishly attired myself in my favorite over-worn bell bottom jeans, which were getting weak at the seams. What was I thinking? Who worried about red-carpet style at the barn? I wasn’t thinking about anything but me,
certainly not Joe.

I can’t really remember how many students were present. Nor the course or how many jumps. There was a small audience of parents and friends. Upon seeing the crowd and the three-foot jumps ( a first for me), my entire body stung with fear.

It was merely the first jump when the dreadful incident occurred. We were mid-air, Joe soaring over the first set of three-foot rails as I heard the horrid ripping sound. As soon as I felt the wind on my tush, I knew exactly what happened.

My bell bottom jeans split up the back seam revealing my psychedelic neon, lime bikini underwear. My mind raced with only one thought, flee! I wanted to leap off, and quit. Not Joe. He thought of us.

Joe cleared the first jump without any help from me. I wasn’t sitting in position, my heels weren’t down, and I gripped the reins too tightly, which forced the metal bit to see-saw in his mouth. How completely wrong as a rider, but I was wallowing in humiliation as my body banged my faithful steed from all angles. Joe should have been angry, but instead reached new heights in everyone’s heart.

My honorable steed cleared each fence in perfect pattern and form, even with my sideshow underwear peeking out through my flapping jeans. Beneath the snickers,
Joe impressed onlookers with his style.

Although Joe is in heaven, this is another loving creature, rescuing my Daughter!

Joe pulled me through like my most dreaded beta-reader whom I will forever miss…
My Mom.

A last celebration lunch with my mom and daughter.

My mom was the essence of a rarely pleased critic; a Goldilocks in search of perfection. Perhaps it was her own dread of failure or her phobia of MY failure.
But on the day she received her diagnosis of a brain tumor while we sat in the reception area of the doctor’s office, she told me she read my first book, Spurred to Justice, in two days and loved it.

Trust me, my mom wasn’t afraid to burden me with an honest review. After her acknowledgment, we sat before her scheduled appointment, editing the first chapter, unsuspecting the outcome of her brain scan. This moment I will hold ever so close in my heart. Thank you to all the Moms, Amys’, and Joes’ in our lives.
The rescuers.
There would be no sanity to life without them. Who rescued you? The concept of others ( including furry friends supporting your back,) is the theme of The Silver Cowgirls series. I felt the story in my heart. I hope you do too.

Order your copy today:
TabortonBooks
Amazon

Every profession has its hazards, and hairstyling is no exception. Although not as death-defying as a skyscraper window washer in New York City, working with the public can be challenging.

Some client issues seem simple and merely unpleasant to others, yet these
concerns can have a lasting effect on one’s morale.

On Tuesday, I was needled the entire day by a painful problem that was ignited after my first client, Lois. Lois is a long-time, loyal patron.

Although always well overdue for a haircut, she generously brings me homemade soups, always praises my work, and shares genuine conversation, which usually touches my heart. Her hair carpets her head in luscious waves so thick it seems impossible to penetrate to the scalp with shampoo.

Lois’s eight-week appointment was like any other. With such longstanding devotion, I take extra time talking. We shared our happenings, both happy and sad, while I was trimming away. After Lois left, there was enough remnants on the floor to make
a shag rug which I swept away. Unfortunately, she had left me with something else. Lois had speared me with an unbearable problem. No matter what I did to forget her, she had burdened me with a constant stabbing reminder that would not be resolved until the day was over. I was stuck with Lois all day.

Sticking to something can be good unless it is Lois doing the sticking. Take for example, Liberty Cunningham, who can stick on a horse like glue even if
she is dangling from the side or flipping on the backs of two galloping steeds.

Here I am with , Liberty Cunningham, Pro Rodeo Trick Rider,
Roman Rider, Liberty Horse

Liberty has been riding since she could walk. But her real dream was trick riding. Now as a mere teen, through her determination, she is a national sensation. She navigates several horses in jaw-dropping performances. Thoughts of Liberty are cemented with me as I work on an article about her amazing feats. Please check out Liberty at the Equine Affaire in Ohio just two weeks away, and savor her fascinating show.

How about a friendship that sticks for decades. Take Lucy and Ethel. True friends are always there with a helping hand no matter the physical distance that sets them apart. They stick like Liberty to a horse.

Please join me at The Ohio Equine Affaire, April 11 and 12, where equine and non-equine friends stick together. I invite you to visit me at booth 113, The Plaid Horse Magazine and pick up an April issue, free!

I will be graciously sharing The Plaid Horse booth with Fran Severn Levy, author of Riders of a Certain Age. Come witness Liberty Cunningham, other incredible stars, and, of course, the breathtaking horses. This is an event that will stick in your mind forever!

As for my client Lois, she was still clinging to me when I arrived home on Tuesday night. I frantically stripped in the hope of ripping her away. One of the dangers of hairdressing is actually hair. When hair is cut in small sections they transform into an armory of terrorizing weapons know as hair splinters. (Certainly a form of torture in medieval times.). Some people have fine, soft hair, others coarse or unruly, but no matter the texture, when hair is cut the individual strand becomes a needle splintering into your clothes and your skin. Call it a job hazard.

Lois was nestled in my shoes, in my socks, in my pants, in my shirt, in my bra and other undergarments. She was jabbing me like steel pins. Lois’s hair splinters were roosted against me the entire day and quite annoying. But seeing Lois every eight weeks is worth the poke.

The lasting memories of clients like Lois far out outweigh the pain and will stick with me for a lifetime. Sticking to the dream is what life is all about!

A good book can stick with you, too. That was my hope when writing the Silver Cowgirls, which is based on four women who reconnect after three decades. That friendship is rekindled in The Silver Cowgirls Ride Again. And perhaps the Silver Cowgirls will gallop into a Golden trilogy?

Join me on a renewed writing journey and enjoy my latest series.
Your support means the world—happy reading!

Order your copy today:
TabortonBooks
Amazon

If you read last month’s blog, you can guess which one is me in the picture above? This was one of the treasures I have discovered in my recent winter purge. I am smashed in the middle with my flirty bangs. But why my dismal expression?

As I am purging, I am filling together pieces of my life. I think I know why I was miserable in this photo with my sister and my father styling his infamous crew cut.

But back to that later.

The wonderful attribute about hoarders is they keep every note, every snip of artwork and every family photo from the past. Such a collection was one of the family treasures my parents left my sisters and I to organize and share. A daunting task. But every ounce they saved was a golden gift. (Well, most of it.)

Even though it is the month of Cupid’s kisses, February can be dismal; a hallway that is sometimes dark and cold connecting January to Spring. Perhaps a reason why we should focus on hearts and the magic of love. One like my parents.

Their love stretched a lifetime most of which I was a part of. However, before my siblings and I were even a thought in their hearts, they were simply
Joan & Joe. They dated twenty-four months until my father was sent across the globe on a ship. The Korean War. A dark part of their story. The hallway between dating and forever. But in that aching time, my parents managed to leave us a treasure that told the story of their deep love.

 Love letters were saved in stacks and in shoeboxes tied with ribbons. The precious articles that now fit in one half of the old refrigerator where I store my journals and important memories. These pictures and letters are my future project. I have unearthed my parent’s love story. My father, (obviously the romantic of the two) the artist, the dreamer, and the writer.

I remember my father would occasionally slip one of the letters in a fresh envelope and address it to my mother. Then he would ask me to take it to the mailbox for Valentine’s Day. He was an old romantic.  Although, my mother would say, “Oh, Joe you are ridiculous saving this stuff,” she was the one who retained the stacks of letters.
(Look for this non-fiction book in the future.)

Then there are the relics; the Voice–O–Graph.

I never knew such an age-old technology existed. Today when we can instantly share our images on Facetime and Zoom, a foggy voice spinning around on a 45 player seems archaic. The voice-o-graph was called the ideal greeting card. I am so excited to embark on their love letters. A part of their lives when I was not even a thought in their journey together.

These letter and records give me chills! The realization of their love, which stretched across the world, was tested by distance and war.
Decades later, I was truly smashed in the middle. Their legacy was raising three sisters: the love child, the princess, and me-the middle. Of course, I was the cream of the Oreo cookie.

So back to my first picture above. My distressed expression. I am sure that was the day I was informed my dream of a pony would be placed on hold.

My parents announced I was receiving an even better present.
A baby sister or brother. (No telling at that time.) Little did I know,
she was indeed a precious gift; my baby sister and one of my best friends. (As they both are.)

P.S. I did get my pony in due time.
Never too late!

So back to that hairdressing novel with butterflies, beauticians and of course an enduring LOVE!
Join me on a renewed writing journey and enjoy my latest series. Happy February and remember I will be signing at the Horse Expo in Harrisburg. Drop by and say HI!

Order your copy today:
TabortonBooks
Amazon

Yup, that is me. Second grade. The day school pictures were taken. The day after someone decided to trim (no mutilate) my bangs. Perhaps a frustrated hairstylist?
More on that disaster later.
The last thing anyone wanted this week was a snowstorm followed by a winter freeze. But when dealing with the wrath of nature, we have no choice. I should have appreciated the hibernation time to finish my seventh novel. Unfortunately, I could not focus. Instead, I walked away from my computer and decided that the winter hibernation was the perfect time to purge.
Yes. Purge and organize.
Purging brings a feeling of freshness. In my case, I went from an overwhelming feeling of being imprisoned under a mound of snow to hope. I spent the morning hours rummaging through old pictures and books, a collection that would put the Library of Congress to shame; inevitably I discovered surprising treasures.

God works in mysterious ways. My latest novel is a fiction based on forty years of working in a salon behind the chair. The salon was co-owned with my husband, Richard Martin, who passed in 2007. The stylists and the clients were the nucleus of our lives. I had been struggling with the last revisions of this seventh novel. The novel encompasses a fictional salon based on my experiences, paralleled with a rhetorical theme of butterflies. I had reached a lull in organizing the dynamics and flow of the story. I was wondering after three hundred-plus pages and several grueling rounds of edits, if this was even worth my efforts. Toss the whole silly idea in the trash.
And then I found a book hidden among the masses…

This Golden Library of Knowledge, a sixty-nine cent book in a series from 1942, was an oddity. I had no clue where it came from or how it landed in my collection. I picked up the book. Upon opening the first page, I was flabbergasted at the author’s name.

Richard Martin.

I blinked. A 1942 book about butterflies is no big deal, right? (Unless you happen to be writing a novel encompassing a butterfly theme.) I stared at the author’s name. Richard Martin was my partner in business and deceased husband. Of course, Richard was not born in 1942 and upon closer examination the letter ‘A’ was not his middle initial. Clearly, my Richard wasn’t responsible for this Golden Book of Knowledge. But how surreal! Was this a message from heaven about these beautiful insects, or about my novel moving forward?

The snow outside was melting as my bookshelves were slimming down. I was recharged with the hope that my novel was on the right track. I returned to my computer, and fingers typing away on the keyboard in new resilience.

So what does that all have to do with the picture I found of my disastrous second grade haircut.

Second grade was a tumultuous year for me. I helplessly lost a favorite uncle right in my presence, we moved from my childhood home (a home I loved) and my princess-of-a-baby sister was born, all altering my life forever. At the time, as a seven year old, I felt imprisoned under an avalanche. The night before pictures it was I, alone, who chomped a whooping chunk from my hair with no style intended.

My mother (who always had my back) came to the rescue. She was a bookkeeper by trade but could handle a pair of sewing scissors like John Wayne could maneuver a revolver in True Grit. She cut a straight line (well semi-straight) and connected it to my way-above the brow slice. Although a little short, by third grade, I had transformed into the Bell of the Ball with a new wispy style! My mother giving me hope and much needed confidence!

AND they were flirty and just the right length!

Join me on a renewed writing journey while enjoying my latest series!
Order your copy today:
TabortonBooks.com
Amazon
Your support means the world—happy reading!

I also wanted to share my latest article with ON THE BIT. I talk with a woman who inspires me every day! READ MORE.

Thanks for stopping by! Please feel free to reach out and leave a comment, (share a picture of your most memorable haircut disaster) a review or tell me about something that inspires YOU!

First Blessings!!!

Yes, that’s my father with my daughter, nearly 23 years ago. What a blessing he was, both as a father and as a grandfather. As we enter this season of gratitude, I’ve been rummaging through old photos, reflecting on the incredible gift that God gave me through my parents.

This year has been monumental for my writing journey, filled with milestones—new books completed and awards received. But, as with all of life, joy and sadness often walk hand in hand. This will be my first year without my father, and now, both of my parents. They were gracious, selfless, humble, and kind. Though the pain of their absence is immense, I’m reminded that the love and life they shared with my sisters and me is irreplaceable.

As we celebrate this season, I find comfort in the memories of their love and the blessings they’ve left behind.

What’s this? A new novel? Yes! If you’re looking for a perfect gift, The Silver Cowgirls Ride Again, the sequel to The Silver Cowgirls, has officially hit the shelves! It’s been an exciting year for this series, with The Silver Cowgirls winning first place in the Western Fiction category at the Equus Film and Arts Festival and second place in the Chick Lit category at the Black Chateau Bookfest. The support from readers has been overwhelming, and I’m so grateful.
Thank you for your continued love and encouragement!

And here’s the future news: Yes, there’s another novel already deep into the editing process. Over three hundred pages of intense typing and mind-blowing storytelling. This upcoming Chick Lit novel will have readers hooked from the first page, packed with horses, butterflies, and—guess what?—beauticians.

I can’t wait to share more. Stay tuned for updates!

My writing journey has been both rewarding and challenging, but it wouldn’t have been possible without the incredible support of readers, family, and friends. A huge thank you to Taborton Books, Equine Affairs, and Lavender Acres Winery (you have to try their delicious wines and what a beautiful venue!! ) for their warmth and hospitality. Their support has meant the world to me!

AND for some even more exciting news…I will let you let you in on a secret: Look for the Silver Cowgirls to be SHINING in Time square!

At my last two book signings, attendees had the chance to win a fun basket filled with great goodies! Congratulations to the winners, Jody W. and Tammi D.! Please reach out to me so I can send your prizes!

Christmas brings to mind perfect moments with my family. My mother and I would host the holiday at the country home where I was raised, just next door. Those Christmas memories are like a Currier and Ives painting, forever imprinted in my heart. As I move forward, they will always remain with me. I will close by sharing one of my favorite recipes to make this time of year Favorite Beef Tenderloin By Paula Deene https://www.pauladeen.com/recipe/bourbon-beef-tenderloin/

As the year comes to a close, I want to extend my warmest wishes to all of you. May your holidays be filled with joy, laughter, and a good book by your side. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year—here’s to new stories, new adventures, and a year full of inspiration!

I will talk to you again in the New Year with more updates, pics and recipes too! Until then feel free to reach out –

I would love to hear about your Christmas memories!

This past year has been a gift even in the midst of change and loss. But with the support of faith, family, friends, co-workers and readers, I have so much gratitude in my heart. Many new opportunities in my writing adventure have evolved. My latest series has galloped into the hearts of many and I am honored that The Silver Cowgirls has secured a second place award in the Chick Lit Women’s Fiction category at this years The Bookfest with Black Chateau Enterprises. The sequel, The Silver Cowgirls Ride Again has leaped on to book shelves this month! After a safe four day book signing in Massachusetts the novels were received with anxious minds! Thank you to all!

The series makes a great gift for any friend horse lover or reader who wants to dare to live their dreams at any age! And the perfect gift for the mystery lover on your list is my Spurred to series.
Books available here!

For my local readers I’d love for you to join me tomorrow night at Lavender Acres Winery if you’re able! I’ll be there signing books. If you can’t make it, be sure to check out the pictures from the event afterward!

Wishing you a joyful and blessed Thanksgiving!
Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support and kindness.

P.S. I would love to hear from you. Contact me and your reviews are always welcome!
https://www.goodreads.com/alicia_stephens_martin or on Amazon

Giving ThanksScarlett Swims and Other Amazing First-Time Adventures!Splendid JuneA New Circle in LifeA New Adventure!

The first time for anything is usually both a rush of anxiety and exhilaration. This past month I was blessed with many first adventures!

First, I had the privilege to meet and study under Hank Phillippi Ryan, A USA Today best-selling author, multiple Emmy winner, and most recently author of 𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝑾𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 – if you enjoy a heart-pounding thriller this book should be your next escape!

Also, this past June, I had the opportunity to debut in two publications. First, as a guest blogger with The Plaid Horse, a premier North American equestrian magazine both in print and on-line. The article called, Just say, Yes! Click to Read, is a story with a message to inspire others; take a chance at any age!

My article, The Nightmare Beach Ride, appeared in On the Bit magazine, The article is a true story about an overzealous equestrian (me) on a dream-beach-vacation ride turned almost disaster. Although humorous, the underlying message is to educate those seeking an adventuresome horsey-vacation.

To add to the excitement, Misty Adamson, editor and innovator of On the Bit, published an extensive bio/review on my novel Spurred to Justice, followed with a YouTube discussion. We would love readers to follow the link and join in! Thank you, Adamson Equestrian. Click on any underlined item to Link!

And if you love horses or need a gift for an equine lover consider a subscription to either of these publications.

On a personal note, June was fulfilled with a surprise visit from my daughter at the bay! And Scarlett, her four legged pal was in heaven. With my daughter’s coaching – Scarlett SWIMS for the very first-time!
I am ready for a revolutionary July! Wishing you a month filled with family, fun and some adventures of your own!

Try something for the first time: a new haircut at Rubee Z Salon, a new hobby or anything you have dreamed of but been afraid to try!

Alicia

If you haven’t read one of my books or articles dive in for the FIRST TIME and write a review! I would love to hear from you. aliciastephensmartin.com

An adventure of four women who reunite in friendship through their love of horses. Look for the coming sequel soon!