Colorado mornings were almost always cold, and this was no exception.

The fire was stoked up, and biscuits were baking inside a steel container nestled in the sputtering embers.

The winter had set in fiercely, and she was expecting the snows any time now.

The woman with the rare name sat down at her desk, and pressed the button on the computer to kick start it into life.

After she had checked her email and made sure there was nothing of pressing matter, such as any breeding offers, she took the biscuits away from the fire.

Tying her painfully normal brown hair, she sat down on her couch and enjoyed a breakfast of warm biscuits and jam.

When the sun’s first rays peeked through the intricately woven curtains, and she checked the clock. Six thirty AM. Perfectly on schedule.

She got up, and went to open the door; juggling an excited husky dog and a jacket with one hand was no easy feat.

The surroundings were drunk in eagerly, giving her inspiration for a story, and she smiled.

The ranch was waiting.