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Check out my reviews of CATCHING JORDAN,
STEALING PARKER, and THINGS I CAN'T FORGET!
Check out Miranda's Girls In Sports Week Interview,
and
Take a peek at an old interview from 2011 and see how much things have changed for Miranda (not to mention the look of this blog)!
"You’ll get to catch up with characters from my first three books… and there might even be a wedding."
Fans of horses are excited because there are horses in RACING SAVANNAH. I know I'm always extra-interested if a horse is involved. I blame My Little Pony and Rainbow Brite's horse Starlight for my obsession...but that's another story!
If you've never read Kenneally before, you're missing out on one of today's great new contemporary authors. Each book gets better and better. I encourage you to take a peek at RACING SAVANNAH in December!
Miranda Kenneally has graciously allowed me to share an excerpt from the first chapter of RACING SAVANNAH below! Are you as excited for this book as I am?
O F F I C I A L I N F O:
Title: RACING SAVANNAH
Author: Miranda Kenneally
Release Date: Out Dec. 3, 2013
Publisher: Sourcebooks Fire
SUMMARY:
They’re from two different worlds.
He lives in the estate house, and she spends most of her time in the stables helping her father train horses. In fact, Savannah has always been much more comfortable around horses than boys. Especially boys like Jack Goodwin—cocky, popular and completely out of her league. She knows the rules: no mixing between the staff and the Goodwin family. But Jack has no such boundaries.
With her dream of becoming a horse jockey, Savannah isn’t exactly one to follow the rules either. She’s not going to let someone tell her a girl isn’t tough enough to race. Sure, it’s dangerous. Then again, so is dating Jack...
He lives in the estate house, and she spends most of her time in the stables helping her father train horses. In fact, Savannah has always been much more comfortable around horses than boys. Especially boys like Jack Goodwin—cocky, popular and completely out of her league. She knows the rules: no mixing between the staff and the Goodwin family. But Jack has no such boundaries.
With her dream of becoming a horse jockey, Savannah isn’t exactly one to follow the rules either. She’s not going to let someone tell her a girl isn’t tough enough to race. Sure, it’s dangerous. Then again, so is dating Jack...
An Excerpt from Chapter One of
RACING SAVANNAH
by Miranda Kenneally
RACING SAVANNAH
by Miranda Kenneally
EXCERPT
I charge down the driveway and suddenly a wailing, high-pitched alarm goes off. My first thought is: Tornado! But the skies are as blue as a robin’s egg. Seconds later I see a brown and white blur streaking across the grass. A racer. Two guys on ponies are chasing it. He must have escaped!
I sprint toward the horse as he zigzags my way. The horse seems curious. But not curious enough to slow down. He zips past me as I yell, “Stop!” and take off after him. The horse circles back around. I hold a hand up. “Whoa, there.”
The horse slows to a jog, studying me, his expression both wary and nosy. Then he charges me. I reach out and snatch his bridle. With a firm grip I thrust him away from me, showing him who’s boss. That’s when I discover he’s wearing a saddle.
“Did you throw your rider?” Suddenly he rears up and kicks his feet. When he returns to all fours, I get up in his face again. “Whoa!” He cowers, bowing his head.
One time a horseman told me I have a way with horses. Dad told me not to listen when men say things like that, because they’re just trying to get into my pants. But I do have a way with horses. Dad, however, does not have a way with words.
I confirm the horse is a boy, then gently slap his neck, checking the engraving on his bridle. His name is Tennessee Star.
“You sure are fast,” I tell the young horse, petting his nose. He’s beautiful—a light brown chestnut with white markings. A Ferrari. I never rode such a well-made colt in Charles Town.
Then, from the fields beyond the manor house, a guy comes riding up on a horse. I don’t take my eyes off that rider, even when Tennessee Star tries to yank away.
I haven’t met the owner’s son yet, but I’ve seen him riding around like he’s king of the place. Which is technically his title, I guess. When we arrived two days ago, Mr. Goodwin’s chief of staff told me the Goodwin family is fiercely private, and that non-housekeeping staff aren’t allowed inside the manor. We were instructed to keep our distance from the Goodwins. Since I don’t want Dad to get fired on Day 3, I haven’t spoken to the boy.
Still, he’s beautiful: I should start a magazine called GQ Cowboy, and he could be the cover model every month. Wavy hair the color of straw is just long enough to show out from under the brim of his cowboy hat. His snowy white button-down shirt is spotless and pressed, tucked into his jeans, the arms rolled up to his elbows. The three coonhounds that always seem to follow him around bound up and sniff my jeans.
Last night a giggling maid told me his name: Jack Goodwin, and he’s 17, like me. He attends Hundred Oaks High, the school I’m starting on Monday.
I sprint toward the horse as he zigzags my way. The horse seems curious. But not curious enough to slow down. He zips past me as I yell, “Stop!” and take off after him. The horse circles back around. I hold a hand up. “Whoa, there.”
The horse slows to a jog, studying me, his expression both wary and nosy. Then he charges me. I reach out and snatch his bridle. With a firm grip I thrust him away from me, showing him who’s boss. That’s when I discover he’s wearing a saddle.
“Did you throw your rider?” Suddenly he rears up and kicks his feet. When he returns to all fours, I get up in his face again. “Whoa!” He cowers, bowing his head.
One time a horseman told me I have a way with horses. Dad told me not to listen when men say things like that, because they’re just trying to get into my pants. But I do have a way with horses. Dad, however, does not have a way with words.
I confirm the horse is a boy, then gently slap his neck, checking the engraving on his bridle. His name is Tennessee Star.
“You sure are fast,” I tell the young horse, petting his nose. He’s beautiful—a light brown chestnut with white markings. A Ferrari. I never rode such a well-made colt in Charles Town.
Then, from the fields beyond the manor house, a guy comes riding up on a horse. I don’t take my eyes off that rider, even when Tennessee Star tries to yank away.
I haven’t met the owner’s son yet, but I’ve seen him riding around like he’s king of the place. Which is technically his title, I guess. When we arrived two days ago, Mr. Goodwin’s chief of staff told me the Goodwin family is fiercely private, and that non-housekeeping staff aren’t allowed inside the manor. We were instructed to keep our distance from the Goodwins. Since I don’t want Dad to get fired on Day 3, I haven’t spoken to the boy.
Still, he’s beautiful: I should start a magazine called GQ Cowboy, and he could be the cover model every month. Wavy hair the color of straw is just long enough to show out from under the brim of his cowboy hat. His snowy white button-down shirt is spotless and pressed, tucked into his jeans, the arms rolled up to his elbows. The three coonhounds that always seem to follow him around bound up and sniff my jeans.
Last night a giggling maid told me his name: Jack Goodwin, and he’s 17, like me. He attends Hundred Oaks High, the school I’m starting on Monday.
~*~
Gahhh a wedding?! Now I want this book even more! How am I supposed to wait until December?! Great post!
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