Few books grab me as Ephemeral did. If I didn’t know the author I might not have read it. It’s (mostly) fiction, which isn’t my usual genre. I qualified that because it’s impossible to imagine the nuance of relationship between a woman and her forever horse without personal experience. This is the best horse novel I’ve ever read.
Ephemeral is entertaining, challenging, devastating, and victorious.
Andie has the horse experience. And a gift. I’m a writer. Andie is an artist. And poet. The story, descriptions, and REALNESS of Ephemeral translate into a magical experience for horse-loving women.
Ephemeral means something that lasts a very short time.
The love story isn’t just about a woman and her horse …
Enter the problem, the potential, and a few plot twists. Ephemeral isn’t a mystery, but is satisfying in rich highs and lows. And a few surprises.
Andie’s new book is a masterpiece for women who love horses and for horses who love them in return. Bronze championship trophies earned during my decades-long horse career are nice, but what forever reigns in my heart is a deep love and appreciation for horses.
Readers with a forever horse in the barn, or one waiting in a verdant pasture beyond this world, will recognize what they’re blessed to experience personally. If you’re still dreaming of that special horse, here’s the next best way to grasp intimacy and oneness with a half-ton equine soul-mate.
Amazing characters. Real barn experiences. A deep and satisfying storyline. Greater than anything else, is the invitation into the mind and heart of a horse. If you love horses, accept the invitation.
No one has ever mastered all that is “horse” and no one ever will. It’s impossible to receive all they have to give. Ephemeral is entertaining, challenging, devastating, and victorious.
Andie gave me permission to share this poem when she wrote it about Hook in 2014. May it bless you as it blessed me.
No Hoof, No Horse
“No hoof, no horse!”
Barefoot or shod, the risk remains
that someday, in serving me,
your feet will carry you places
you do not wish to go.
For my part,
I will towel my waist,
and pick your hooves,
wash them clean,
and cradle them
in the palms of my hands.
Pearls of great price,
purveyors of thunder,
vessels of power and life,
I tend to thee also
with a servant heart.
For you are the work
of my Master’s hand.
You lay down your life
to bear me;
carry me to heaven,
and back again
in pounding strains