When I finished writing The Legend of the White Dragon, I thought my head would finally be quiet. That book was born from a dream that refused to let me go until the story was out in the world. If you’ve read it, you know: it’s a tale about courage, identity, and finding light in the shadows—a story close to my heart.

So, it might surprise you to hear that there’s more to come. Yes—The Legend of the White Dragon will have a sequel. Many of you have asked what happens next, and I promise: the story isn’t finished. There are still secrets to be revealed, dragons waiting in the wings, and another legend ready to unfold. The sequel will return to this world, but it won’t just be Rhagan’s story this time—the world of dragon shifters is bigger than one girl’s journey.

But here’s the truth: even the most passionate author sometimes needs to step away from fire and scales to let inspiration recharge. I want the next chapter to be everything it deserves—so, for now, I’m letting the magic simmer and giving my imagination space to breathe.

But that doesn’t mean I’ve stopped writing. Far from it.

While I wait for the next spark of dragonfire, I’ve turned my focus inward—to a story I’ve lived, every single day, for as long as I can remember. It’s not fantasy, but it is about transformation. It’s about freedom. It’s about learning how to claim your own legend, no matter what the world thinks you’re capable of.

It’s called Hoofprints and Tire Tracks.

This memoir is my heart on the page—a story about growing up in a body the world wasn’t ready for, and the horses who taught me I was never broken, only unfinished. Horses didn’t care about my wheelchair or my scars or the awkward way I sometimes moved. They saw me, in ways most people never bothered to look.

I could explain what this journey has meant to me, but honestly, the words on the back cover of the book say it best:

The world saw my wheelchair.

The horses saw me.

I was born in a body that didn’t match the world’s expectations. There were surgeries, stares, and the quiet ache of never feeling like enough. I struggled with more than my disability—struggled with myself, with the belief that I was broken before I had a chance to begin.

Then the horses came into my life.

They didn’t care what I looked like or what I couldn’t do. They stood beside me, steady and unbothered, offering their strength until I found my own.

They didn’t just carry me—they showed me how to carry myself.

They taught me not to flinch at who I was.

Not to apologize for taking up space.

Not to measure my worth by anyone else’s comfort.

Through them, I found confidence.

Through them, I found me.

And the girl who once believed she wasn’t enough became a world champion.

Hoofprints and Tire Tracks

is a deeply personal memoir of emotional healing, spiritual connection, and self-discovery.

It’s about the girl I was, the woman I became—and the wild, beautiful ride that bridged the two, fueled by the quiet strength and freedom found in the space between hooves and wheels.

This book isn’t just about horses or disability. It’s about learning not to shrink yourself. It’s about the power of refusing to let anyone else write your story for you. The lessons I learned in the barn—about patience, resilience, and the freedom to be exactly who you are—are the ones that made me the person (and writer) I am today.

So, if you’re waiting for the next dragon adventure, know that it’s coming. Sometimes, the best stories need time to grow. In the meantime, I hope you’ll join me on a very real—and very wild—ride through the pages of Hoofprints and Tire Tracks.

The memoir should be out for sale around August, and I can’t wait to share it with you.

Whether you come for the dragons or stay for the horses, I’m grateful for every one of you. Thank you for believing in the magic of stories—real or imagined, on two legs or four hooves, with scales or with wheels.

Stay tuned.

The legend (and the ride) is just beginning.

— Krys Hindman

“Only you know what you can achieve—don’t let others define your possibilities.”