Another Kentucky Derby in the Books

 For all those visitors who are interested, check out an interview that I did on George Cramer's blog.

Here is the link;

https://gdcramer.com/george-cramer-blog/

Road to the Triple Crown

     Now that the new year is upon us, the road to the Triple Crown is heating up. There is always increased interest in some of the unique stories behind past participants. For those who haven’t had the chance to read the story behind Casual Lies, the fuzzy brown colt that nobody wanted, now is your opportunity to get the eBook at the discounted price of $.99 at Amazon.com. Or you can read it for free with a KindleUnlimited subscription. 

     I hope you enjoy the unusual story behind the horse who became known to the world as Stanley. He was such a character and never passed on an opportunity to pose for the cameras. And you can trust me when I say I had no problem poking fun at myself.

        

 

     Also, as some of my followers have discovered, I have been writing novels and short stories. The first eBook in The Born from Stone Saga, Into Madness, is also available at $.99 for those who like the escape that a fun fiction read offers. 

     Join Ravin Carolingian, who, after a decade in hiding, is captured and imprisoned by the man who killed her father and stole her kingdom. Left to question everything she thought she knew about herself. At the same time, as the line between ally and enemy blurs, Ravin comes to understand one thing. If she is to help the Carolingian people, she must first escape the evil that walks the halls of the place she once called home. 

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B088T3D9PM/ref=dp-kindle-redirect?_encoding=UTF8&btkr=1 

I hope you'll join Ravin and her allies as they attempt to find a way to save the Carolingian Kingdom and its people. Dragon's, ancient prophecies, magic, and more. 

     Thank you for visiting my blog, and I look forward to hearing from you with any comments you might like to share.

Take care,

Shelley Lee Riley

The Auxiliary Gate Podcast

So, I need to admit to making a bit of an error when I posted that I would be joining 

the crew on The Auxiliary Gate Podcast to reminisce about the 1992 Kentucky Derby 

on Monday. Where I thought it would be live, it was, in fact, recorded. The 

conversation has been posted this morning, and I have to tell you we had a great time 

looking back. I did share a couple of stories that I don’t think I had divulged 

previously. 

Be sure to check it out at...  https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-auxiliary-gate/id1514030631?fbclid=IwAR3AO_qiRWKQSDpOXiPEO8-_aYYK0NsuWsNY7rUMSgWTdBwNVtqYxDrwEkk

I hope you enjoy these few minutes that I spent with two terrific guys, CC Broaddus and Alan Schneider.

Take care,

Shelley Riley

Kentucky Derby 2021

With the 147th running of the Kentucky Derby fast approaching, I’ve been invited to 

join Craig Broaddus on the Auxiliary Gate Podcast tomorrow, April 17th, at 4:00 PM 

Pacific Standard time. Please tune in as we take a look back. 

 
https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-auxiliary-gate/id1514030631?fbclid=IwAR3oELe_6D9qgkrLLLvr-8suJOiEEoBVMCqiHXlXOSESz03CUNuBzgy49fw  

Take care,

Shelley Riley

 

Florida Derby

       As I watched the G1 Florida Derby, one thing, in particular, struck me—the use of the whip. Now I know there is a great deal of controversy over whips and their use. As a trainer of racehorses for over two decades, I have seen and heard a lot of views about whipping a horse.

      First, let me make it clear, I am not a great fan of the whip. I have seen horses come back after a race with noticeable whip marks. I have seen horses popping their tails with each strike of the whip. And I have seen horses drift in or out to get away from the whip.

       Married to a jockey, Jim Riley, I was educated about whip use first hand. Jim said only one in five horses were what the jockey's called "a good whip horse." The rest were, at best, distracted by it. If a horse has his ears pinned, he's trying.

      Another thing, all whips, at least back in the day, were not created the same. There were long whippy sticks with big poppers at the end that were more about the sound that they made than anything else. Then there were the whips that they called "clubs," and those were the ones that were so stiff that they hurt, leaving welts behind. I hope the latter type of whip has been outlawed long ago.

      Still, there are sound reasons for a jockey to carry a whip. Safety being number one on the list. A horse that is lugging out, or in, and not responding to his rider may impede another horse, ultimately resulting in a collision or severe accident. Waving the whip where the horse can see it is often enough of a deterrent to correct his course. Other times a tap on the shoulder will do the trick. I could go on about why a whip is a necessary accessory, but I won't because that is not the point of this spiel. What is, is overenthusiastic whip use, and why the subject is being addressed at a national level. Don't be fooled. This isn't for the first time, either. Inappropriate whip use has long been a favorite rule for the Stewards to enforce, enthusiastically assigning various penalties to those they deem to be offenders.

       So, was Known Agenda getting away from the whip? I don't know, maybe. Or perhaps he was just getting tired after a long race. Still, it was an opportunity for me to opine about the whole whip controversy that I have been reading so much about.

       On another note, Essential Quality, what about that race? He looked terrific up to the point he started to make his move and had to be checked. While he saved ground on the inside, he was getting sandblasted the whole way. He jogged out a bit as he came out of the turn for home, and it didn't look like it was at his rider's urging. Still, it didn't get him out of the dirt flying in his face. He looked flat coming down the lane and, in particular, pulling up after the race. There was just something about him that looked like a horse who knew he'd been beaten. And trust me, they know.

      Having run horses on both sandy and muddy tracks, I've seen what their eyes look like if they are stuck behind horses. After the Kentucky Derby, Casual Lies eyes looked like peeled grapes. You could see the abrasions on the surface. That has got to hurt. I know how I would feel if I got stuck in a sandstorm.

      I'll reserve judgment until we see what kind of information comes out about the horses in the days to come.

       As always, these are just my opinions. Feel free to comment if you have something to say. Discussion is a good step toward understanding.

Shelley Lee Riley

Be sure to check out my books, in particular my memoir about the horse with two names. Casual Lies - A Triple Crown Adventure. Trust me when I say, that within its pages, I had no trouble poking fun at myself.

GREATEST HONOR - FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH STAKES

   

I know it's been a while since I took the time to share my thoughts on individual high-profile races. It wasn't for lack of interest. Handicapping takes time, and putting my opinions into a cogent format takes even more time. 

     Since I moved away from California and getting settled into my new home state, and after the success of Casual Lies - A Triple Crown Adventure, I decided to flex my writing muscle in a new direction—fiction. First, I started with short stories. Then I decided to try my hand at a full-length novel. Into Madness was published last fall, and I'm hard at work on the second novel in the trilogy, which is entitled, Heart's Divided.

     Still, as I intimated earlier, I pay attention to the sport of horse racing. How could I not, after actively spending more than twenty years in the sport and still enjoy, even after all these years, the record for the best finish for a horse in the Kentucky Derby trained by a woman.

     While looking through the entries for the Fountain of Youth Stakes set to run today in Florida, I came across the video of Greatest Honor winning the Holy Bull Stakes. Pretty darn impressive. He cruised along, relaxed as can be, until he was asked to run. And it wasn't a shocking burst of speed that just tore everybody's head off. No, it was far more impressive than that. He didn't come from a mile off of it either. He stayed in contention. And then there was the way he just walked away from the field. It made it look like, at least to me, this horse could get the one and one-quarter mile distance of the Kentucky Derby. And he might also be able to cover the distance at the Belmont if he holds together for all three races, that is. And no one could argue that Greatest Honor doesn't have the right trainer on his side.

     I like Greatest Honor for today's race, but watch out for the speed. Might be fun to try boxing an exacta with the obvious speed in the race.

Take care,

Shelley Lee Riley

Promotion Ends March 2, 2021

     It's challenging for an independent author to go up against industry algorithms skewed toward the traditionally published. 

     Still, I’m going to keep trying to reach the reading public that appreciates a fun adventure with a likable protagonist. Wouldn't you agree that ninety-nine cents is a small price to pay for a few hours of entertainment? 

     Please take a chance and have a look. For less than the price of a cup of coffee, you can join Ravin Carolingian as she fights for her freedom. 

     The ebook edition of my debut fantasy novel Into Madness, Book One in the Born From Stone Saga, is still available at the reduced price of $.99 on Amazon. 

     Check it out at https://www.amazon.com/Into-Madness-Born-Stone-Saga-ebook/dp/B088T3D9PM/ref=sr  

     Scroll down for a preview.

Prologue

Kingdom Carolingian—938 Middle Era

     Crouched atop an ancient Building, a giant stone serpent loomed black against a full moon. Nine-hundred years had passed under its frozen gaze. But on this night, as the mist swirled, minuscule particles locked within the moisture carried a scent that evoked a long-dormant memory.

    The dragon stirred, his once drab scales transformed, coming to life in a dazzling swirl of color. His stone pupils blazed to life, and a forked tongue flicked from between misshapen lips. Leathery wings spread and the dragon lifted into the sky.

    Those citizens who traveled the streets cowered at the sight of the dark alterity.

    Ignoring the humans, Mystislav shifted with the cold breeze and drifted toward the far end of the narrow valley. His destination: a hulking stone fortress, silhouetted against a towering V-shaped cliff, and the tumultuous waterfall that cascaded over the pitted surface.

    Dipping through the billowing mists, Mystislav angled his glistening wings to pass over the Carolingian castle walls.

    His acute hearing picked up the squall of a newborn infant. Banking sharply, he spiraled down and landed on the donjon tower, the highest point in the castle keep.

    The dragon curled his long neck to look over the edge at a balcony that protruded from the castle wall. His nostrils flared, and his eyes flashed crimson. Over nine-hundred-years he’d waited to fulfill his vow. It wouldn’t be long now.

    Satisfied, Mystislav folded his wings and returned to stone.

Chapter One

Carolingian Castle—Eighteen Years Later

It wasn’t like her mother hadn’t told her what to expect. But nothing could’ve prepared Ravin for the level of disdain—even outright hatred—displayed in the glittering hall by the nobility that had gathered there.

    Her mother’s icy hand brushed against Ravin’s wrist.

    ~You need to control yourself. Her mother’s mind-speak failed to calm the outrage that threatened to claw its way out of Ravin’s chest. But it was enough. 

    “Delinda Carolingian Danpert . . . Ravinia Carolingian Danpert,” the herald boomed.

    Together the two women descended the stairs. When they reached the bottom step, the crowd was slow to part. Ravin ignored the hostility. Instead, she focused her attention on a dais at the far end of the great hall where two men sat on gilded thrones. The older, darkly handsome, with a cruel edge to his countenance. While an arrogant sneer made the other’s golden-hued features repellent. Though Ravin had never seen either man before, she knew who they were—Grigorii and his son, Brakken. Both wore the crowns of the conquered Carolingian kingdom. The kingdom her father had died to protect—Ravin’s kingdom.

    The sea of jewel-toned satins blurred into a wash of color at the periphery of her vision as she concentrated her attention on her mortal enemy.

    The man she had dreamed of killing for the last ten years was a knife’s throw away. How easy it would have been to lodge a blade between his eyes. If only she’d had one.

    Hatred gnawed at her gut as the distance shortened between her and the monster, who waited like a spider in its lair.

    Her mother swayed against her, breaking Ravin’s focus.

    ~Ravin, your emotions are tearing at me. Try to control yourself. Please, I beg you.

    Ravin closed her fingers around her mother’s wrist and projected her will. But her mother blocked Ravin’s energy.

    ~Don’t. If you want to help me, you should use your gift to calm yourself.

    Chastened, Ravin concentrated on the gleaming marble beneath her feet. Following their capture, two weeks of hard travel had done little to extinguish her self-loathing. Every mile traveled was a constant reminder of what her arrogance had cost them. This time would be different. 

    When Delinda came to a stop, Ravin took a deep breath and looked up. The malevolent gaze of the usurper Grigorii Clovis Mercoviche matched Ravin’s mood perfectly. Pressing her lips into a thin line, she returned her gaze to the floor.

                                                                    * * * * *

As the two women made their way across the ballroom, Grigorii wanted nothing more than to prolong his moment of triumph.

     He may have won the right to rule Carolingian through force, but he’d craved far more than the right to wear the crown when he’d turned his eyes toward this kingdom. The blood that ran through these two women’s veins was more valuable than a mere golden circlet to lay upon his head or a gilded chair to sit upon. Theirs was a hereditary claim that extended beyond the land now under his control. Delinda’s lineage, and that of her daughter, traced back to the very first ruler of Carolingian—the infamous sorcerer-king, Remfry Carolingian.

    This deposed queen who stood before Grigorii was a true daughter of Carolingian. And, as such, represented the most critical aspect of bringing a prophecy he’d found outlined in the pages of an ancient illuminated manuscript to fruition. 

    But first, he would cement his hold on the Carolingian people by marrying their beloved queen and put an end to the petty rebellion that kept this kingdom in constant turmoil. Even though the land was of little consequence compared to his overall ambition, the unrest remained a continual thorn in his side.

    Grigorii remained seated as the woman raised her eyes. A smug smile played across his full lips. The prize he’d sought for so long was finally his.

    The queen was, if anything, more beautiful than he’d been led to believe. Not that it mattered. Ugly or pretty, it would change nothing. That she wasn’t hideous was just an unexpected bonus.

    Regal beyond words, Delinda appeared as though age would never mark her. Fiery and bright, her red-gold hair gleamed in the candlelight, her luminous skin warm and inviting.

    He moved his gaze to the princess, a contrast of dark versus light, her blue-black hair framed pale porcelain skin, and he noted that she was far too thin to appeal to his randy son. When she glanced up, their gazes locked. Her eyes were remarkable. Neither blue nor gray, but some smoky hue Grigorii had never seen before. What he had seen was the direct challenge reflected within their depths. Few had ever survived long enough to challenge him twice—and never a woman. He quirked an eyebrow, amused.

    Grigorii returned his gaze to Delinda. Despite the poor quality of her clothes, there was no doubt she was the product of a multi-generational monarchy. His gaze raked the queen from head to foot, leering over the swell of her breasts and the curve of her hips. That her mouth tightened under his crude perusal pleased him more than he would have thought. As a means to an end, he hadn’t considered the subjugation of these two women would prove to be such a pleasurable undertaking. His cruel smile widened at the possibilities.

    “Delinda, welcome to my court.” Grigorii rose, descending the steps, he took her hand. He relished the thought of what she endured as she stood helpless before the architect of her husband’s death and the subsequent fall of their kingdom.

    Grigorii still chafed at the galling memory of his triumphant ride into the citadel ten years past only to find the real prize, Queen Delinda, had outwitted him and escaped before he’d arrived. 

    “So this is your daughter?” Grigorii turned his avaricious gaze on Ravin. “The resemblance to your late husband is striking.”

    Grigorii drew out the moment of their humiliation. The queen’s features remained stoic. However, the princess rolled her shoulders, and her eyes conveyed a promise she was wise not to utter. His dark eyes narrowed in anticipation as he imagined how pleasurable it would be to crush this defiant child.

    “Let me introduce you to my son.” He turned to glower at the young man sprawled on the smaller of the two thrones, openly flirting with a pair of giggling girls. “Meet Brakken Clovis Mercoviche. Brakken, come and meet our illustrious . . . guests.”

                                                                * * * * *  

Prince Brakken didn’t think the tedious charade could get any worse, but he was wrong. He’d spared the two women only a perfunctory glance when they appeared at the ballroom entrance. Why his father would insist on parading his prisoners in front of the entire court was beyond Brakken. But then again, thwarting Grigorii’s machinations was Brakken’s primary goal in life, and the inelegant girl standing before his father was going to make it easy.

    “Brakken!”

    Heaving a sigh, Brakken rose to his feet, swaggered down the steps to stand before the stork. Snagging her icy hand, he raised it to his lips. But instead of kissing her fingers, his lip curled in distaste before he met her smoky-eyed glare.

    ~Surely Father can’t expect me to bed this crone?

                                                
I hope you enjoyed this short excerpt from Ravin's adventure. And thank you for reading it. 

Take care,

Shelley Lee Riley

INTO MADNESS Seven day Promotion

Starting at midnight and for the next seven days. The ebook edition of my debut novel Into Madness, Book One in the Born From Stone Saga, will be reduced from $2.99 to $.99 on Amazon.

Please feel free to take a look at the opening pages on my blog.

www.bluntbookreviewer.blogspot.com

And don't forget, reviews are always welcome.

Take care,

Shelley Lee Riley

Blunt Book Reviewer

I posted a book review of Shadows by best selling author Jennifer L. Armentrout on www.BluntBookReviewer.blogspot.com  

Check it out.

Shelley Lee Riley - Author of:   Into Madness a debut YA Fantasy novel.

                                                        Casual Lies - A Triple Crown Adventure a memoir.

Today I'm excited to report that the author George Cramer has posted an interview with me on his blog. So if you're interested in a little insight as to what came after the Triple Crown for me, check it out at https://gdcramer.com/2020/11/17/shelley-lee-riley-first-a-racehorse-trainer-owner-now-author/

September 15, 2020

With the 145th running of the Preakness Stakes to take place on October 3, in this the year of all things Covid-19 and the upheaval it has caused, it looks like a large field is set to contest the event.

There's nothing like a fresh group of horses stepping up to the plate to stir the pot and challenge the pundits to choose a runaway favorite. Personally, I like a good horserace. The diversity makes it exciting. You never know what can happen. Look at the horse who finished third in the Kentucky Derby, Mr. Big News at nearly 50-1, that was big news.

For my part, after Casual Lies ran second in the Kentucky Derby, I know I would have liked to have seen nearly four weeks between that race and the Preakness Stakes, instead of the historical two weeks.

After all, part of the Triple Crown challenge and why it is so difficult to win is that all three races are contested within a five week period.

Since the Triple Crown is off the table, there won't be any naysayers questioning the validity of a Triple Crown winner, if there had been one, due to the amount of time between races.

On to other news, my new novel Into Madness is now available to read as part of Kindle Unlimited. So, if you have a monthly subscription to that service, you can now read it on your devices.

Starting today is a new Goodreads giveaway. Check it out and enter to win one EBook copy of Into Madness, the first book in the Born From Stone Saga.

Take Care and be safe,
Shelley Lee Riley

The Day After

September 6, 2020

The day after the Kentucky Derby and overall, the race itself was uneventful. It looked to me like the best horse, on the day, won. There were no big excuses for the favorite, Tiz the Law. He ran a terrific race, and other than a little bobble down the lane, he just got outrun.

Nothing wrong with second. No really. I should know. Still, I have to admit, first is way better. Let me reiterate, in a country where winning is everything? I don't care, second in a race of that caliber is nothing to sneeze at.

For me, the days most remarkable events happened before the race and right after. Thousand Words, flipping in the saddling paddock and taking out Bob Baffert's assistant trainer, Jimmy Barnes—breaking his arm? That was one scary incident. And if that wasn't enough to tell you how dangerous racehorses can be, there was the scramble for life and limb in the winner's circle afterward.

Truth be told, I have always held my breath when the flower garlands are thrown over the winning horse's withers. This is not something horses are trained to expect. Saddles, blankets, jockeys, yes. A massive carpet of flowers, no.

Fortunately, no one looked to be seriously injured in the veritable lawn bowling incident that went down in the confines of the winners'circle. Stuffing that many people into a small space with a volatile thoroughbred is just asking for it. The outcome could have been so much worse.

My hat is really off for Bob's crew and, in particular, the groom who was handling Thousand Words. When the colt flipped, it was definitely not the groom's fault. I replayed the incident several times, and the handler didn't lock up on the lead shank, which would have guaranteed the colt would go on over. By his hold on the colt's head, he gave Thousand Words every opportunity to change his mind. At the same time, the groom didn't lose his hold on the end of the shank. A loose horse running around the saddling paddock? Yeah, not something you want to see at any time.

Finally, Honor A.P. What a flashback in time for me. My biggest nemesis in 1992 was A.P. Indy. The similarities in the way Honor A.P. runs, at least yesterday, and his grandsire was striking. While not as heavy headed as Indy, the awkward, heavy-front-end running style was. And let's don't forget how Indy loved to come from way off the pace.

So, I don't know if it was the rough start Honor A.P. got or if this is his usual running style, but I thought he was super courageous. To come from last, circle the field on the outside, and then grind it out down the lane to finish fourth, impressive.

Take care,
Shelley Lee Riley, author of Casual Lies - A Triple Crown Adventure
and now, just released, a YA fantasy novel, Into Madness

2020 Kentucky Derby

September 5, 2020

It's the first Saturday in September, and it's time for the Covid19-delayed Kentucky Derby to run. Not only the date for the festival has changed due to the global pandemic, virtually everything that makes it so much fun has changed. No overflowing crowds in the stands and the infield. No derby hats. No Mint Juleps. No party.

It's been twenty-eight years since I saddled my horse Casual Lies to run in the Kentucky Derby. It was the first Saturday in May, the year 1992, and there were record-setting crowds in attendance, or so I was told. It was also the first year that the telecast was going to be aired on Russian television. And it was the year the much touted Arazi was a sure thing to win the 118th running of the Kentucky Derby. Reporters had come from all over the world to report on every breath Arazi took.

The atmosphere was electric, leading up to the big day. The morning of the race was hectic. Barricades had been set up at each barn where a derby horse was stabled. And then it went quiet, and the wait was on for the call to the saddling paddock.

Stanley (as I called Casual Lies) napped with his head over the stall guard. I re-read the same page of the book that I held over and over again, anxiety twisted my gut, making it impossible to concentrate on the written page. It wasn't just the enormity of what we were about to take on. It was the same fear I faced every time that I prepared a horse for a race. More than winning, I wanted my horse to come back from the race in as good a shape as he started it. With so many horses running in one race, the odds of something going wrong were far higher than usual.

Stanley didn't know anything was different. It was just another race day for him. He didn't get any grain at lunch, and his hay bag was taken away. Something that made him cranky. Stanley loved his food.

When the call came, and we readied our horse, nothing could have prepared me for what came next—navigating he gauntlet of noisy fans before we even stepped onto the trap from the backside—the wall of noise that grew with each step that brought us closer to the jam-packed grandstands—the saddling paddock.

My heart pounding so hard, it made it difficult to breathe.

The roar of over 132,000 fans as the starting bell rang!

This year? None of that will happen.

Even so, a fantastic line-up of horses will be coming out of that gate. The lack of a crowd will make it no less impressive for the horse that wins. The thrill of victory for the entire team that takes a foal from frolicking in a pasture to winning the most prestigious three-year-old race in the world will not be dimmed.

Still, the weeks that led up to the Kentucky Derby Festival were what made the whole experience so special. Nobody has enough money to buy that kind of memory.

Each year on the first Saturday as I listen to the first strains of My Old Kentucky Home, I wonder, yet again, how lucky I was to have found that weedy little colt in a Kentucky sale on a snowy day in January. And twenty-eight years later, I still feel blessed to have known and loved the amazing horse he grew into.

Here's to a safe and uneventful race, and may the best team, on the day, win this year's crown.

Shelley Riley - Author of Casual Lies - A Triple Crown Adventure

Kentucky Derby 2020

August 30, 2020

It’s been nearly three years since I last posted here. Life, as it does, got in the way. After another eighteen years spent in California, I packed up and moved to Oregon two years ago. After the memoir, Casual Lies – A Triple Crown Adventure, was published—thank you to all of you who bought it—I decided to try my hand at writing a novel. And four years later, following multiple rewrites, and periodically putting it on the shelf only to return to it months later, Into Madness has been published.

With the delayed running of the Kentucky Derby, I decided that a look around was in order. In the past, I have enjoyed following the horses that competed in those races that led up to this prestigious race. And I frequently shared my observations about these talented racehorses, here on this blog. I haven’t done that this year. With Covid19 wreaking havoc in nearly every aspect of our lives, both directly and indirectly, I just haven’t taken the time to get involved enough to delve into this year’s crop of three-year-olds to offer up any opinion.

I feel so badly for those people involved with the festival this year. The memories I have of the festivities live right at the front of my mental filing cabinet. They are there waiting for me, and in living color, whenever I want to revisit them.

Without the crowds and the pageantry, while the Kentucky Derby won’t look like just another horserace, it goes without saying that the experience isn’t going to be the same. Still, I’ll be watching.

California Chrome vs Shared Belief ? Yikes !

February 7, 2015

Dear Readers,

I’ve been anxiously waiting for the rematch and I’m seriously not going to pick a winner out of this field. Though I do think there has already been a winner…all of us. What a joy to see a match-up like this. It’s good for the loyal followers of Thoroughbred racing to see our superstars come back for another year.

I looked at the field, only because I like to look at charts that look like these, makes my heart sing. So here’s just a few observations from my viewpoint.

Hoppertunity :  Baffert has done a great job picking his spots for this colt, and I believe Hoppertunity belongs in here, but they are up against it today.

Tonito M. :  No one can say this horse was put in here to be the rabbit. You have to respect the trainer, however I don’t think this horse is going to outrun his stable mate.

You Know I Know : Whatever.

Imperative : Might need an easier race. Would be a surprise.

Shared Belief : His chart says it all.

Clubhouse Ride : Somebody had to fill the race.

Bronzo : I can’t find anything to get excited about.

California Chrome : Makes me smile.

Alfa Bird : This colt looks like he’s going to be a good horse, and he’s definitely been getting smarter on the front end.

Alright, wherever you are today, prepare to be entertained.

Take care,

Shelley Lee Riley

Author of Casual Lies – A Triple Crown Adventure, and For Want of a Horse – A Short Story Collection.

www.shelleyriley.com

 

Lecomte Stakes

January 17, 2015

Dear Readers,

 Saturday, it must be time for another Kentucky Derby prep race. After the Sham I needed to sharpen my pencil, and to that end I’ve spent the morning looking over the entries for today’s (GIII) Lecomte Stakes at the Fair Grounds in Louisiana.  

1.                  International Star – No doubt a nice colt, but Eagle beat him pretty handily in the Kentucky Jockey Club Stakes in November. Unless the time off between races has helped him, I don’t see him beating Eagle in this race.

2.                 Tiznow R J – Yikes, did you see how far this guy won by in his last start? Admittedly it looked like a bumper car race behind him. Nonetheless he’s lightly raced and appears to have found his footing. Can’t ignore him.

3.                 Four Leaf Chief – I admit I’m scratching my head over this one. He wins a stakes race, impressively, and then comes back in an allowance-optional claiming and runs like a wild March hare. Strange.

4.                 War Story – Two starts, two wins, and both times he looked to be running green. No reason he shouldn’t improve with racing.

5.                 Hero of Humor – If you can’t say anything nice… This horse was 87-1 in his last out and he beat one horse. He would be a surprise.

6.                 Savoy Stomp – With only three starts, and one of those a dismal run on an off track, I can’t get excited about this horse. Granted he has big time connections and he cost a lot of money…

7.                 Runhappy – I like the name. Even though he ran very green, it was an impressive first start. Why not run him in this race?

8.                Killingit – Form on this colt was looking good and then there was that last race as a prohibitive favorite.

9.                 Dekabrist – This horse fills lots of races. I don’t think he belongs in here, but then stranger things have happened.

10.            Another Lemon Drop – I can’t make a case for this horse not running in this race, considering some of the others, but at the same time I can’t make a case for him winning it either.

11.               Eagle – This colt was impressive in his first out going five furlongs, and probably needed the second race where he finished second. In the Kentucky Jockey Club Stakes, he had to find running room late and when he did he was impressive. 

I have to go with the probable favorite in this race, and that looks like it will be Eagle. In his last race he looked like the real deal.

I also like War Story to feel brave off his two starts and his two wins. He’s got to be getting smarter with running.

Pretty much the same sentiments when it comes to Runhappy.

And then there’s Tiznow R J with that impressive win in his last start.

This is going to be a fun race to watch.

Take care,

Shelley Riley

Check out my latest book; For Want of a Horse – A Short Story Collection

 

 

 

 

Sham Stakes - Santa Anita

January 10, 2015

Dear Readers,

Here we go, the first three-year-old race in California that offers qualifying points for  May’s Kentucky Derby. The (GIII) Sham Stakes at Santa Anita Park.

Some very strange monikers, but I know how difficult it is to get a name approved for your horse. We all know a good horse makes for a good name. Here is the field:

1.       St. Joe Bay:   After breaking his maiden in a brilliant manner, by 10 ½ lengths, he's been close in his next two races, but not close enough.

2.      Pioneerof The West:    I don’t know what to make of that last race. Maybe he didn’t like the surface.  He ought to be fit, he’s run five times since August.

3.      Rockinatten:    I like this horse’s chart and I suspect he’s been brought in from Florida to avoid some big guns lining up for the Florida prep races.

4.      Unblunted:   This horse got packed wide in the Gold Rush in the first turn, and he looked rank once he straightened out down the backside. Then packed out on the final turn, he didn’t have anything left for a stretch run. I don’t know what to think of this horse. His post position should help him a lot.

5.      Rock Shandy:   Ran an even race in the Cecil B. Demille, you have to respect this horse.

6.      Papacoolpapacool:  Would be a surprise.

7.      Calculator:  He’s been chasing a good one, and he would seem to be the obvious choice. Having said that, there’s been a bit of time between races. I think that could make this race more of a challenge than the form would suggest, and even with that great work he posted.

8.     Hero Ten All: Two races under his belt and both were nicely done. Maybe a little green in both races. Should improve with practice. 

 

This should be a fun race to watch, I don’t think I would spend a lot of money. Maybe a small flutter on Rockinatten, and an exacta using him and Calculator. If I really felt flush and had money to spare, I would buy a Tri-fecta using Rockinatten, Calculator and Unblunted. But mostly I think this is a good one to keep my money in my pocket and root for my favorite, which would be Rockinatten. 

Take care,

Shelley Riley, Author of Casual Lies – A Triple Crown Adventure, and For Want of a Horse – A Short Story Collection.

Winterfest Ekphrasis - Part II

January 9, 2014

Dear Readers,
     As promised in yesterdays posting, here is the Winterfest Ekphrasis photo and the story I was inspired to write after seeing it. The photo was taken by Jordan Bernal, our club president.

Face in the Wall ©

“Tell us a story, Grammy.”

“A story?” The woman’s gaze swept over the two children. Both rosy cheeked, they’d just risen from their nap. Kevin knuckled one eye and yawned. While Carly sucked her thumb and tugged at tousled blond curls.

“Carly, don’t suck your thumb,” Carmelita admonished the wide-eyed child. “You’re too old to be sucking your thumb. Do you want to end up with a bucktoothed smile?”

Carly opened her mouth, but didn’t remove the thumb. Carmelita suppressed a smile. I didn’t tell her to take her thumb out of her mouth, now did I?

“How about an apple, you two hungry?” Carmelita drew the two children into her arms. They both shook their heads in the negative.

“Grammy, story.” Carly spoke around her thumb, her words garbled.

“Give us a kiss and I’ll tell you a story.” Carmelita smiled as the young girl removed her thumb and deposited a wet smooch on her grandmother’s cheek. “How about you Kevin? Do you have a kiss for Grammy?”

Kevin squirmed. Carmelita laughed. “You getting too old to kiss your Grammy?”

The little boy shrugged and leaned in to give her wrinkled cheek a quick peck.

“Alright then, the price of a story has been paid.” Carmelita gazed over the children’s heads and out the window into the garden.

“He waits.” Carmelita whispered.

“Who waits, Grammy?” Kevin said.

She didn’t answer, her gaze was locked on a vision, one that only her words could describe. Carly tugged on Carmelita’s sleeve, the old woman blinked and hugged the children tighter. She felt their little frames stiffen in her arms, as they sensed her unease.

“The Man in the Wall.” Carmelita told them, and a slight tremor shook her frame as she uttered the words.

The children waited. Eyes wide, they stared at their grandmother.

“In my village there is a stone hut, the roof is gone and no one lives there anymore. The floor is stone and the walls had once been plastered in white. The only life that remains is the green mold that rises with the damp to find a foothold in the crevices between the stones. There were once two doorways, but no longer, now there is only one. The other is stone and where the Man waits.”

“Grammy?” Kevin pulled at her sleeve. Carmelita looked into her grandson’s earnest face. “How can that be, does he stand in front of the stone?”

“No, Kevin,” Carmelita said. “The Man waits in the stone.”

“But Grammy, how could he breath inside the stone?”

“He doesn’t breath, Kevin.”

“He’s dead, and walks with God?”

“No, he’s not dead. The Man waits.”

Carly’s thumb had crept back into her mouth. Her lips moved as she sucked harder. Carmelita kissed the top of the little girls head.

“What does he wait for?” Kevin said.

“He waits for us.”

“Why?”

“When we each are ready, the Man will show us the way.”

“Where are we going?” Carmelita could see the impatience on Kevin’s face as he asked her for the answers.

“To a place with many wonders.”

“What kind of wonders, Grammy?”

“You will see when you’re ready.” Carmelita hugged him close.

“Does every family have a Man in a door?”

“No, just ours.”

Carly pulled her thumb from her mouth and locked gazes with her grandmother. “Are you ready to go through the stone, Grammy?”

“Yes darling, I am.”


Check back in tomorrow, I will be sharing my thoughts on the Sham Stakes, a grade three event at Santa Anita.

Take care,
Shelley Lee Riley, Author of Casual Lies - A Triple Crown Adventure and For Want of a Horse - A Short Story Collection

www.shelleyriley.com

Winterfest Ekphrasis

January 8, 2015

Dear Readers,

I’m going to shift, at least a portion of my attention, to the major three-year-old events that lead up to the Triple Crown. This includes the Sham at Santa Anita Park on Saturday. I plan on taking a long look at the entrants tomorrow and I’ll post my opinions on Saturday.

Lately most of my attention has been focused on various writing assignments and deadlines. One of which was the Winterfest event the California Writers Club, Tri-Valley Branch, puts on each year. As part of this celebration they include an Ekphrasis where members submit works of art, be they photo, craft, painting or drawing. Members are encouraged to write a poem, haiku or a short story to be displayed next to the image.

To that end I submitted a crayon drawing I’d created a few years ago. Next I wrote a short story to accompany it. Here is the portrait and the short story.

Authoress©

Lost in thought, the woman sat alone in the small Parisian café.

I’d stumbled upon Mariage Frères at the end of the rue du Bourg─Tibourg. The victim of a wrong turn, I’d been wandering the back streets of Paris and was overcome by fatigue and thirst.

Now with my swollen toes resting on the heels of my shoes, I had both a steaming cup of Marco Polo tea and a flakey almond croissant waiting for my attention on the small wrought iron table in front of me.

Intent only on getting the weight off my feet, I hadn’t noticed the woman when I’d entered. Left of the entrance, she was tucked in a corner where two windows met. Caressed by the filtered rays of the sun through the old water hued-glass—she was arresting. I found I couldn’t tear my gaze away.

Food forgotten, I stared. Her hair was slicked back from her face, the severity lessened by a long, light blue silk scarf. Wrapped several times around her head, she’d tied the silk in a fanciful bow at the crown. Vivid jewel tones of every primary color covered her smock-like dress in a riotous pattern that matched the simple beaded necklace and hoop earrings she wore. This unconventional get-up attracted my attention, but what sustained my interest was the look on her face.

Clearly the woman didn’t see the people on the street in front of her. Perhaps she was reliving a moment lost in the past. No? Maybe what she saw was a future, one she anticipated. I couldn’t tell.

Her facial features were a combination of clean cut and bold: big brown eyes were etched in coal, and a long straight nose with well defined nostrils gave her an air of authority and intellect. The well-shaped lips were brought to prominence with a heavy application of red lipstick. The only indication of her mood was the melancholy smile that tugged at the edges of her mouth. Or was it a look of satisfaction?

My tea cooled as I ventured into my own imaginations. Very bohemian in appearance, she could be a writer or a poet or perhaps an artist. No, not an artist, too neat, no paint-stained fingernails or dabs of titanium white smeared across her smock. No, she was definitely an intellectual, confident and creative. My mind raced with the image of abstract conversations that would take place over cigarettes and bottles of deep red Bordeaux in her glass-enclosed loft. 

Was she visiting the scene of her next literary work? Finding her way through a jungle of words that didn’t want to be organized into coherent thoughts, or plot lines? A journey started with the first sentence written. Was the story taking hold and giving her little choice but to follow it to a logical conclusion, which she didn’t want to be logical? Or had she, like me, written herself into a dead end?

With a sigh the woman pushed back her chair with the scraping of iron on tile. I watched as she emptied her cup and put a coin on the table. She passed me and our eyes met. Reflected in her eyes, I saw the same smile I’d stared at earlier, only it was on my face.

The look was one of bemusement, not melancholy. She smiled with real warmth and I grinned, in return. I was thrilled. Without a word spoken she’d inspired me. I’d been bemused and my imagination re-lit. What writer’s block? I thought as I tore a hunk off my croissant and stuffed it in my mouth. I was now in a hurry to finish my snack so I could start writing again.

My thoughts carried me to a scene that wanted to play out in my mind. I didn’t see the man who walked into the café, nor did I notice when he sat down and began to stare.

    

I also submitted a short story on a photo submitted by another club member. I will post both tomorrow. In the meantime, I've listed two of the short stories contained in my recent release, “For Want of a Horse – A short story collection,” as single stories in digital format only, on Amazon in their Kindle store. If you’re interested in a short read, check them out.

 

All of my titles are available on Amazon, both in paperback and digital. Thanks for reading and be sure to check back tomorrow and Saturday.

Take care,

Shelley Lee Riley, Author of the multiple award-winning Casual Lies - A Triple Crown Adventure.