A Donkey Is Not A Mule

Every morning, before I can dive into whatever book I am writing, the animals on the farm must be fed. The task usually makes me laugh as my dogs and my donkeys enjoy playing and pulling tricks on each and me. One of my donkeys, unfortunately no longer with me, gave me an idea for the story I am working on right now, Taking a Chance. 

Archer Channing and Randi Major have met but under far different circumstances than this moment. Mr. J. plays a major roll. It went like this:

      So be a nice mule and don’t chase me, ok?”  With every word Randi took one more step closer to escape.

     “Mr. J. is a donkey not a mule.” The deep male voice was the catalyst.

      The donkey let out a defiant bray and charged.

      Randi tossed the umbrella and her dignity and rushed the steps. The rain slipped rotten boards could have been a iced over pond for all the traction she had. She skidded to the ground off balance and almost cartwheeled into mud puddle. She landed bottom first, her wet hair dripping in her eyes and the donkey braying in triumph from the porch. The rain stopped as though someone had turned off the faucet. She cursed mentally as she swiped the sopping strands off her face. She looked up as the sound the masculine laughter and the snort of another animal, a horse, a lot closer than the donkey.

This picture is what Randi would have seen, especially the one on the right. Donkeys are noisy and very vocal, usually at the top its lungs,  when they have something to say.