Tracy Wainwright joins us today and shares about another of her recent releases. She has graciously offered a giveaway, so read on and leave a comment.

I’m often asked if there’s a part of me in my books. My answer is a resounding yes, but you have to guess which parts. I think all authors include some tidbits of their personality or experiences in their writing.

With Riding the Wind, I drew from my experience of dating a bull rider when I was in high school. My first boyfriend after moving to a new school in Texas rode bulls, which was a new thing to me. The whole rodeo lifestyle and atmosphere were new to me. I embraced it wholeheartedly, with Wranglers, cowboy boots, and the whole thing. To this day, I have fond memories of my weekends spent at rodeos (if not that particular boyfriend). The smells, the excitement, the terror when an accident happened (one that I witnessed is included in the book).

For this book, that’s about where the parallels between me and my character end. She’s much more self-confident than I was at that age and a bit more adventurous. She has the faith I wish I had as a teenager and is much brighter than I was.

Leave a comment to this question to enter a random drawing for a digital copy of Riding the Wind: Do you like to relate to characters in books that remind you of yourself? What’s the most obvious connection you’ve ever made with a character?

Don't forget to cleverly disguise your email address so we can reach you but the 'bots can't. For example, donna AT livebytheword DOT com

Learn more or purchase online:

https://www.amazon.com/Riding-Wind-Tracy-Wainwright-ebook/dp/B072MPXG8D

A Peek inside...

Chapter 1

Dana stepped out of her car, closed her eyes, and inhaled. The smells of hay, manure, hot dogs, popcorn, flowery perfumes, and Brut colognes wafted her way. Country music blared on the loud speakers, old rodeo veterans swapped stories, animals brayed and snorted, and kids ran around playing. Each smell and sound was distinct, but they also melded together into the essence of the rodeo.

           Dana looped her fingers through the belt loops of her Wranglers. A year ago, she hadn’t known what Wranglers were. And she’d never have been caught dead in a pair of boots. Well, not Justin boots. Not ones bought at the same store that sold bright, multi-colored cowboy shirts and horse riding accessories. Not ones that shouted, “I’m country and proud of it!” No. The thought hadn’t crossed Dana’s mind before she met Bo.

Dana bit her lower lip. So much had changed in the last year.

A door slammed shut. Her eyes popped open and she glanced over the car’s roof. Dana met the dark eyes of her best friend.

“You gonna stand there all day, or what?”

Dana returned Brooke’s smile, flinging her long, blonde hair over her shoulder. Brooke’s accent was pure Texas twang. “No, no. I’m going.”

Dana matched Brooke’s gait as they strode across the field towards the arena entrance, ignoring the usual whistles and cat calls.

Inside the gate, Dana scanned the bleachers for Bo’s parents. His mother’s heavy-set frame, topped with puffy bleached-blonde hair and lively cackle stood out like a polar bear in the Amazon.

Dana spotted her on the right side about halfway up the bleachers. I should have known. Does she ever sit anywhere else?

She didn’t. Bo’s mom had once told Dana she wanted to make sure her boys knew exactly where to find her when they looked up from the pens.