Ryshia Kennie's Blog, page 2
December 24, 2023
Rules of the Road
In my travels both near and far, I've discovered something that is common everywhere - road craziness. There is always the person who doesn't signal, speeds etc etc.but it's the different traffic rules that can truly broadside you. Here's a sampling of what I've experienced in my travels.
Cambodia
· Don't assume that the cab driver with perfect English that you hired to pick you up the next day, is the cab driver you're going to get to take you cross country.
· Speed and the ability to understand English sometimes has an inverse reaction. The more you tell the driver to slow down, the faster he may drive.
· Your driver's continual horn honking does not actually ensure your safety nor get other vehicles out of your way.
Canada
· The cab driver you hire is the one you'll get.
· Radar is common and painfully slow drivers plentiful - a rather inverse correlation.
· Horn honking is rare but glaring and speeding up to cut you off when you signal to change lanes - common
Malaysia
"The left hand side of the road - the left, the left..."
This from the passenger - coming from a place where cars stick to the right except to pass.
Safe Adventures
Ryshia
http://ryshiakennie.comhttps://twitte...
December 18, 2023
The Adventure Begins Today!
In the heart of the Canadian Prairies, is a road that runs straight and unpaved for miles. There are no sign posts to indicate where it leads. There’s only an abandoned stone schoolhouse, the only beacon that can be seen along a road that points straight into the horizon. I imagine that if there were time, it would be an adventure to drive this road to the end.
And that’s exactly like the beginning of each of my stories – it’s an adventure that I drive to the end. That opening sentence, like this road, runs straight into the unknown. While I know the characters and where I want to take them, there are twists as sometimes the characters and even the villain(s) decides to lead the way. They drop what I consider surprise bombs that are encouraged by me saying “what if” over a coffee break. Those two words can change a lot.
What is an adventure really? Not too many of us are going to climb a mountain, jump from a plane or, hopefully, run for our lives. But we can shake up our day to day lives, change up our schedule, sign up for a new sport or club or go on the occasional trip – even a local trip. We can also dive into fictional adventure. Books have been my escape since I was a kid back in the day when I road my bike to the library. Of course, that doesn't mean I haven't had my share of travel adventures with hopefully, more to come. But in the gaps in between...
If you’re looking for an adventure and you’ve no plane ticket in hand - check out a book. I'll try not to suggest which one.
Safe Adventures!
Ryshia
"The border means more than a customs house, a passport officer, a man with a gun. Over there everything is going to be different; life is never going to be quite the same again after your passport has been stamped."- Graham Greene
http://ryshiakennie.comhttps://twitte...April 10, 2022
April Sale - Legacy of Fear!
Legacy of Fear - On Sale Now for 99 Cents!
Legacy of Fear is unique in the fact that in the midst of plotting the story I stumbled on a fact that so intrigued me, it couldn't be left out. I was researching Hong Kong and China where the story is set when I discovered a fact that fascinated me - a language that had been used by past generations. Nushu is the only known language created by and for women and originated in a southern province of China. How could this not become part of the story? Of course, in the fictional world, Nushu becomes the vehicle to hide an unbelievable secret that people are dying to discover.
Chapter One
The late afternoon sun flirted with the pallid flesh. An arm stretched out from inside the rust-clotted corrugated steel, the fingers curled thick and chunky. Not ten feet away, the shooter’s revolver winked in the sunlight as the second blast echoed through the piles of discarded steel that stretched over a large field.
The body jerked and then lay still.
The man slipped the gun into the holster inside his tailored jacket, turned his back, and walked away. His pace was slow and thoughtful, as he headed toward the sleek black Audi that would take him back to the heart of the city. There was no fear of discovery. The pipe factory had been closed for longer than it had been open, and the dead man would be forgotten long before his body was found.
****
Thirty miles away, sirens bit through the steady hum of Hong Kong traffic. Their shrill presence was muted by the noise of the traffic. Max True looked over his shoulder, where a block away the blue flashing lights of an approaching ambulance battled for space on an already crowded road. He could see red and blue flashing lights as the police quickly closed in behind it. An emergency in Hong Kong was not unusual. It was the third police car he’d seen since hailing the cab at his hotel over twenty minutes ago, and the second ambulance. From what he remembered of past visits, this was a quiet day. He shifted the satchel. The doll inside it was awkward; it was either jabbing his side or forcing him to place his arm at an awkward angle.
Find my heart. Find my girl.
He thought of the note as he glanced over his shoulder again. Throughout the entire journey he’d had the disturbing feeling that he’d been followed.
“It’s your imagination,” he told himself as he instructed the cabbie to stop a few blocks away from his destination. He needed time to gather his thoughts. A woman glanced at him, her smooth face denying any sign of age, her dark-eyed gaze shifting quickly to the sidewalk. Ahead of him, not half a block away, a highrise pushed forty stories into the mid-afternoon sky. Beside it was a lower-rise apartment with a brick façade. Its first two floors were covered in a curtain of bamboo scaffolding and green mesh. It leaned with an almost defeated list like a small, injured bird struggling to keep up as its more modern contemporaries crowded around it.
He swept too-long hair from his eyes. It was pointless. The hair flopped back into his line of vision.
He passed the bamboo scaffold and green-meshcovered apartment building and the modern-edged high-rise. He rounded the corner and walked another half block before he could see the smog-muted brick of her apartment building. The sirens wailed as the emergency vehicle overtook and passed him, stopping two minutes later at exactly his destination.
It felt like both his heart and his breath had ceased in that moment. He clutched the satchel with one hand while the other hand fisted.
The unmistakable blue shirt and black pants of the local police faced him as they hurled orders. The glassplated apartment doors were flung open. From what he could see, it was organized mayhem.
“Excuse me,” he began, intending to address the police officer directly nearest to him.
What the hell could be going on?
“Get back!” the police officer ordered with an abrupt windmill-like motion of his hand.
Behind him doors slammed, and lights flashed. The red-and-blue bobbles of the emergency vehicles glazed the concrete with a mixture of hollow light. A stretcher was unloaded and dropped onto the sidewalk. The metal wheels clattered as the ambulance attendants sprang into motion.
Andra Vandersan.
His heart raced. He could only hope she was unhurt as he clutched the satchel. He stood on the fringes of a small crowd, waiting for a chance to slip past the police guarding the perimeter of what was obviously a crime scene.
****
Andra stood back as the police arrived and were followed closely by the ambulance attendants.
“Over there.”
She pointed with a shaking finger.
“I found her,” she said in a rush to get the words out. “It was too quiet, and the door was open.” She chafed her forearm. “She screamed, I think.” She knotted her fingers. “I’m not sure any more what I heard. I…I shouldn’t have waited.”
“You said she screamed?” The police officer paused as his partner stood, one hand on his belt. Both officers looked at her, one with impatience, the other with some interest. His dark eyes scrutinized her as his gray hair seemed to glint even in the shadowed light of the apartment’s narrow entrance.
“I think so. I don’t know anymore.”
The police officer nodded; his partner was silent. The medics moved in, pushing past her.
“If I’d checked earlier…” She drew a strand of hair off her forehead. “Maybe she’d still be alive.”
“We’ll take a full report later, ma’am. Now, if you could just stand back.”
She nodded and bit the edge of her thumbnail. She dropped her hand. “There was noise, thumping, more noise than usual. I thought…Oh, God.” She wrapped her arms under her chest.
“Just stay here, ma’am, I’ll take a full statement later,” the officer repeated.
“All right.” She shook her head. She couldn’t seem to stop talking. “Why didn’t I know her better? She was my neighbor, and I never had her over, never…” Her voice trailed off and she dashed what she hoped were the last of the tears from her eyes.
She pushed up against the wall of the bachelor apartment. Only the swirl of officials in the room; the three police officers, two medics and a cluster of official-looking people, seemed to bring any reality to her. And in the midst of all that, hidden behind badges and uniforms, was her neighbor—Margaret. Dead on her tiny kitchen floor, pieces of an uneaten ham sandwich strewn around her.
It was fifteen minutes before the same police officer she had spoken to earlier came over.
“You don’t mind if I record this?” She shook her head.
“What can you tell me about her?”
She wiped another tear. “Not much. I know that sounds odd, we were neighbors and all, but we mostly said hello in the hallways. I never socialized with her or anything.”
She crossed her arms and chafed her elbows with the opposite hands.
“She’s an expat like me, but she wasn’t a close friend. She’d only been here four months. But I suppose you might already know that.” She shook her head. “Other than how I found her, like I told you earlier, I can’t say much more except that she’d mentioned she came from Baltimore. I believe she has a brother there, but she never mentioned his name.”
“Any enemies?”
Again, she shook her head. She wiped the tears with the back of her hand. “I don’t know. I can’t imagine she would have. But I really don’t know.”
“Anything else? About the deceased specifically, her habits, anything.”
“There’s nothing more I can tell you,” she assured the officer. “I arrived to find her already gone.”
Two police officers hovered by the doorway, the others seeming to have left in the last few minutes. She looked away as Margaret’s body was loaded onto the stretcher.
“Was it gang-related?” she whispered.
“What makes you ask that?”
“Her throat was slit in a way that the triads might.”
“Excuse me?”
“I lived here as a child,” Andra clarified. “Moved back to the States and then returned as an adult. I’ve been here ten years. One becomes familiar with the triads, if only through the media.” She glanced up at him. “Was it?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.” He glanced down at his notes. “Had you spoken to her in the week prior to her death?”
“No.” Andra shook her head. “We passed in the hallway and said hello a few days ago. That was it.
Today I heard noises…”
“Noises?”
“Yes. I heard a crash. I assume that’s when she…fell.” She choked out the last word and for the first time since she’d found the body, her knees shook, and she had to concentrate to remain on her feet. “The scream…I don’t know.”
“You’re sure?”
“No, not about the scream. About everything else, yes.”
“What else?”
“The door was ajar. She didn’t answer my knock.”
She remembered how the door had eased open as if someone from the other side was opening it, as if…She shook her head trying to clear her mind of the macabre thoughts.
“Had you seen anyone strange around the building?”
Faces reeled through Andra’s mind. “No…yes. Wait, I saw one man a few days ago. And then again yesterday—a young man, thin and maybe a few inches taller than me, twenty or so with a slightly scarred face—acne, I think, and a beige nylon jacket. He could have been visiting someone, I don’t know.” She shrugged and her stomach heaved, and for a second threatened to give up the small meal she’d had an hour earlier. “I remember him over anyone else who was a stranger to me only because I saw him twice.”
“Did you exchange words with him or notice any unusual behavior?”
“No.” She shook her head.
“Any reason you know of that someone would want to kill Miss Langford?”
Andra stopped for a moment. “I knew her name was Langford but…It’s just so odd to hear it. I…” Again, she shook her head. “I wish I’d spoken to her more. But I’ve been caught up with a project translating recently discovered messages. They were messages that were slipped across enemy lines during World War Two and…” She looked up. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. Margaret mentioned nothing to me. Like I said, we weren’t that close.
“Anything else?”
She shook her head. “No. I wish there was. Oh, she taught English as a Second Language at the Chay-Lan Institute. We had a shared interest in language; language is a kind of code.” She stopped, her hand flitting to her mouth and then dropping. “I know so little about her.”
“Is there anyone else we can contact? Friends maybe?”
“Other than the brother, I don’t know.”
She shuddered when she finally closed her apartment door and faced a room that was, décor aside, a mirror image of Margaret’s. Her arms were folded tight as if that would offer some protection. A knot seemed stuck in her gut. Maybe the tears she couldn’t shed. Maybe guilt at her inability to stop a tragedy. She couldn’t identify it, and yet the feeling bore an odd resemblance to how she felt at other times when she had faced loss and tragedy or pain in her life; her parents, her siblings. She’d mentally built a wall and stored her emotions tightly in the furthest corner behind it.
She drew in a straggled breath. This was not the same. Why would someone kill Margaret? What did she have that was valuable? It made no sense.
She raised a shaky hand to her forehead. It was cool despite the heat in the poorly ventilated building. She supposed she might, all things considered, be in shock. The intercom buzzed and she jumped. She let out a small shriek as the tinny alarm sounded again.
Keep reading?...
It only gets worse before it gets better!
Someone wants that doll and they'll kill anything or anyone in their path to keep their secrets.
Til next time - take care - stay safe!
Ryshia
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Only one backyard snowbank to go!
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January 19, 2022
Release Day - Fatal Intent
February arrived slick and silent following January's attention grabbing end with a province shutting blizzard. It crept in like a stealth intruder choking on the last tendrils of too much snow before it settled into tranquility. Still and silent, at least to begin with, its arrived with a promise of twenty-eight days more of winter weather before sliding into March. And March, well that's another story, one that will tell itself in its own good time. That aside, despite bundling up in a blanket in the cold winter mornings. Yes, even central heat doesn't cut the chill. But, despite that, I'm excited for this release, the last in a trio of releases. Happy Book Birthday - Fatal Intent! The chance of a lifetime is crashing around her and, in the process, threatening to destroy not just Savannah's career but the very lives of her team. In the Borneo rain forest things have gotten daily and the arrival of one man who claims he can help them might add a threat that no one imagined. Just reading that reminds me of how much I loved writing this book; how much I loved the research that inspired the idea. Yes, not the other way around but that's another story. I was on a trip to Borneo, dressed in awkward tourist style for the hike. I'd tucked in my pants into my brand new hiking boots and I had enough bug spray to mutate the forest. I was ready. Possibly not - I wasn't ready for the python - it didn't move, I didn't care. I wasn't ready for the snake that did move, as beautiful as it was - I ran the other way. I also wasn't ready for the beauty of the rain forest - crazy creatures that I could or couldn't identify aside. And I wasn't ready for the idea that leapt at me from the dense, rich green foliage. It was the idea for Fatal Intent. Not all my stories begin with a trip but I love when they do. Excerpt from Fatal Intent: She saw him floating headless through a mist of tears. Even the river’s roar was not enough to mask her scream, as overhead the Borneo midday sun skidded a brilliant reflection across the river’s surface. Savannah Cole clapped her hand over her mouth and squinted against the bright sun, as if that would shift reality or change the fact that all that stood between Malcolm and anonymity was the San Diego Chargers logo on his torn, water-soaked T-shirt. Instead, tears washed her vision. Malcolm’s smiling face—his smiling, missing face. She choked and her foot slipped, bringing her dangerously close to the riverbank, and the body. Brush crackled and something screeched. The sound was harsh and loud even in a place where there was never silence. It would have sent chills through the uninitiated, but it was only an insect, an oversize bug. An insect that might not be classified or identified. There were so many and that was what brought her here. But now her guide was dead, headless. That thought alone was preposterous, even when the evidence lay in front of her. She wanted to weep. She wanted to run. But it was up to her to get her team out of here. She needed another focus before panic clouded everything. And then she caught sight of Ian spewing into the tall grass that grew wild and untamed on the edge of the clearing. “Ian!” It was only the two of them—for now. She and Ian. Ian, who was all about screams and hysteria in a crisis. But there’d never been a need to worry about that—there was no crisis, there should have never been a crisis.Her fingers trembled and she clenched them into her palms, nails pinching the skin. Her thoughts jittered everywhere. There was no answer as Ian began to cry in large gulping sobs. “Ian!” she shouted, trying to use tough love, hoping that would bring him back from the edge. There was no time for sympathy and neither of them could afford hysteria. They had to survive. Small choking sounds came from the brush. “C’mon, Ian,” she muttered, swallowing her own bile as it crept up the back of her throat. Dead. Only yesterday morning she had laughed with Malcolm. It had been over some inane joke one of the other Iban had told him. Something that related back to his heritage and the Iban’s history as headhunters. “Headhunters,” she whispered. “Don’t be ridiculous.” There were no headhunters, not anymore. Just tribal people who took great pride in a history that once had included headhunting. Once, she reminded herself, no more. Her gaze flitted back to the corpse, the corpse that was minus a head. I’ll be back before dark. Keep to the river. I’ll find you. The last words Malcolm had spoken, at least to them.Want to read more? Get Fatal Intent on Amazon both as an e-copy and paperback! Happy Birthday to you....Fatal Intent!On Fatal Intent's release day, I'm celebrating with copy in hand - yes it's in paperback too! Happy dance! Get your copy at:Want to read more?
Get Fatal Intent on Amazon both as an e-copy and paperback!
Happy Birthday to you....Fatal Intent!
On Fatal Intent's release day, I'm celebrating with copy in hand - yes it's in paperback too!
Happy dance!
Get your copy at:
Amazon.com; Amazon.ca; Barnes & Noble; Chapters Indigo
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December 31, 2021
Count Down - Legacy of Fear!
Andra Vandersan is an expert code breaker, as fiercely independent and beautiful as she is brilliant. Working in Hong Kong at the highest levels of deciphering. When her next-door neighbor is brutally murdered in a way that suggests the work of the Chinese triads, two things become clear: Andra was the intended target of the hit, and the assassin is going to return.Max True is a world-class linguist, a colleague of Andra's who once helped her break a code that would destroy a terrorist cell. When he shows up at Andra's door with a mysterious message, they realize they may have stumbled on a long-lost women's language that holds the secret to incredible power—and one that the most vicious men in Hong Kong will stop at nothing to get their hands on.As Andra and Max work to solve the puzzle of the language, they find themselves in a desperate race against time to escape the mysterious forces who all want the secret of the message—even as they surrender to the forces of an undeniable passion that brings them inexorably and irrevocably together.
Check out the book trailer!
Click here to get your copy!
Til next time - take care and if, like me, you're in the frozen north - stay warm!
The Dead Sea, a tourist - my book - and a whole other story!Looking for book news? - follow me on: Bookbub Twitter: @ryshiakennieFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/Author.RyshiaKennieInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/ryshiakenniehttp://ryshiakennie.comhttps://twitte...
November 11, 2021
Remembrance Day - Lest We Forget
Some days you just have to take a breath and take a break. Today is one of those days. A day to recharge and focus on things that have nothing to do with stories or characters. But as you can see, I couldn't steer completely clear - I haven't banned the blog. But during prime writing time I am not writing and that's a good thing. Stepping away gives me a different perspective.
Poppy - the national reminderTomorrow I have no doubt that I will be more determined than ever to push forward. Already there is a new plan in place that will take me to the same goal that I had before the road block, just in a different way.
While my initial thoughts were on what I would and would not do today, I was reminded of something much bigger. Of the constant conflicts of mankind that are complex, seemingly unending and that sometimes put us all in jeopardy. And that fact alone is sobering but more importantly today as the eleventh hour comes and goes, I think of the sacrifices so many have made to protect the freedoms we all cherish and I send a silent thank you.
Today is Remembrance Day a day to remember why we have the freedom to forge our life path in almost any way we choose. It's a day to remember something bigger than each of our individual lives and challenges.
Sometimes it's all about perspective.
Lest we forget.
The Dead Sea, a tourist - my book - and a whole other story!Looking for book news? - follow me on: Bookbub Twitter: @ryshiakennieFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/Author.RyshiaKennieInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/ryshiakennie
October 11, 2021
A Canadian Thanksgiving
There were a few twists in the traditional meal: One: turkey this year became a roast chicken and ham.
Two: My mother played one of her cooking games - which do you like better - carrot pie masquerading as pumpkin or the real thing? Truly, her carrot pie sounds terrible but passes as an acceptable pumpkin pie.It was great to catch up. And, with Thanksgiving celebrations over for this year - there's still lots to be thankful for. The weather has been great - no sign of snow, which isn't implausible this time of year. Instead there's flowers still blooming in some gardens.
Weather and celebrations aside, there is alot more happening or, at least poised to happen. New releases are crowding the horizon for early in the new year. The first up is Legacy of Fear. This story had one of the coolest inspirations for any of my books. I stumbled on Nushu, the only language created by and for women. It was written only and used to message between women in southern China. There's a whole lot more to it than that but that was enough to inspire Legacy of Fear.
Legacy of Fear is scheduled for release January 3, 2022. It was fun putting a book trailer together and while I've had book trailers before, this was one of the few I made myself.
Enjoy your Thanksgiving weekend or just enjoy the day!
Til next time.
Ryshia
The Dead Sea, a tourist - my book - and a whole other story!Looking for book news? - follow me on: Bookbub Twitter: @ryshiakennieFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/Author.RyshiaKennieInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/ryshiakenniehttp://ryshiakennie.comhttps://twitte...
September 22, 2021
Legacy of Fear - The Countdown Begins!
January 3, 2022 sounds rather futuristic. Futuristic or not, it's definitely going to be a good day! Why? I know, you didn't ask, but I'm going to tell you anyway. Why? Because I'm excited and I hope that everyone else is excited too.So, here it is, January 3, 2022 is the day that Legacy of Fear will be released. What's more exciting even than the release is that it will be published not just in e-book but in print as well. I can hardly wait to get my hands on the print copy. Yes, I read e-books and listen to audio books but there's something permanent about print. You can't put an e-book on your bookshelf. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. Legacy of Fear was inspired by Nushu, which is the only known language written by and for women. How cool is that - Nushu I mean, not the book - not yet.About Legacy of Fear:Andra Vandersan is an expert code breaker, as fiercely independent and beautiful as she is brilliant. Working in Hong Kong at the highest levels of deciphering. When her next-door neighbor is brutally murdered in a way that suggests the work of the Chinese triads, two things become clear: Andra was the intended target of the hit, and the assassin is going to return. Max True is a world-class linguist, a colleague of Andra's who once helped her break a code that would destroy a terrorist cell. When he shows up at Andra's door with a mysterious message, they realize they may have stumbled on a long-lost women's language that holds the secret to incredible power—and one that the most vicious men in Hong Kong will stop at nothing to get their hands on. As Andra and Max work to solve the puzzle of the language, they find themselves in a desperate race against time to escape the mysterious forces who all want the secret of the message—even as they surrender to the forces of an undeniable passion that brings them inexorably and irrevocably together.
......and in another world and on another note, my pal Sophie was no help in the blogging department. But she was determined that none of it would spoil her breakfast.
Ryshia www.ryshiakennie.com
The Dead Sea, a tourist - my book - and a whole other story!Looking for book news? - follow me on: Bookbub Twitter: @ryshiakennieFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/Author.RyshiaKennieInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/ryshiakennie
September 14, 2021
Romance Writers Are Rocking The Prairies
It's an exciting back half to a year that has been a little wonky as last year's troubles stretch into 2021. But things are settling down, hopefully getting better. On the prairies, the writing world has been busy creating one story after another. In fact, I'm sure if you're quiet for a moment, hold your breath and listen, you'll hear the soft patter of fingers on computer keyboards as ideas spill out, imaginary relationships build and obstacles, that can only be imagined, wait in the wings to destroy any hope of love that might be had. The fall harvest moves as steadily and surely as each story leads to the dark moment before tumbling into its happy ever after. Trouble, the key to any good book - sometimes there's so much trouble it seems impossible to surmount. But romance is tougher than that. It beats anything you can throw at it and believe me there's been a lot; from vengeful former spouses to treacherous ghosts, mismatched lovers and romances that threaten entire families. With the pandemic hitting the end zone (fingers crossed), our Saskatchewan romance writers have been hard at work. This is only a sampling of what I know is going on. Who knows what other surprises await on the bookshelves of the prairies.
So fire up your e-reader, make some room on your bookshelves and load up on some great finds for 2021!
The good news - the list might not be comprehensive and - the year's not over yet!!
Kara’s vengeful con-man ex-husband has left her with a mountain of fraudulent debt – and now he’s begun stalking her, too! What is a hardworking elementary school teacher to do, simply to stay afloat, let alone trust someone new? Is Kara even safe?
Peter is still grieving the deaths of his beloved wife and daughter. Even so, his self-pitying widowed mother keeps escalating her unreasonable demands. Meanwhile, Peter’s stand partner in the symphony comes on to him, although he’s tried hard to make it clear that he’s not interested – in anyone.
When Kara slams on the brakes to avoid hitting a stray dog and Peter rear-ends her, an unexpected and unwelcome attraction begins to flare.
My opinion - OMG there's a dog in the cover - what's not to love. Well into it and loving it!
Someone to Cherish
Mary Baloghhttps://marybalogh.com
When Harry Westcott lost the title Earl of Riverdale after the discovery of his father's bigamy, he shipped off to fight in the Napoleonic Wars, where he was near-fatally wounded. After a harrowing recovery, the once cheery, light-hearted boy has become a reclusive, somber man. Though Harry insists he enjoys the solitude, he does wonder sometimes if he is lonely.
Lydia Tavernor, recently widowed, dreams of taking a lover. Her marriage to Reverend Isaiah Tavernor was one of service and obedience, and she has secretly enjoyed her freedom since his death. She doesn't want to shackle herself to another man in marriage, but sometimes, she wonders if she is lonely.
Both are unwilling to face the truth until they find themselves alone together one night, and Lydia surprises even herself with a simple question: "Are you ever lonely?" Harry's answer leads them down a path neither could ever have imagined...
My opinion - Regency romance or any romance written against the backsplash of history was what led me to write romance. Someone to Cherish - so far loving it!
Coming November 2021
Someone PerfectSometimes, just one person can pull a whole family apart. And sometimes, it just takes one person to pull it back together. For fans of Bridgerton, New York Times bestselling Regency Romance author Mary Balogh shows how love truly conquers all in this new Westcott family novel.
J.E. McDonald
Stella Campfield might be having a string of bad luck, but she has her witch's intuition telling her it will turn around. That is until her best friend accidentally opens a portal to another dimension!
When the police arrive, she’s dismayed to learn the officer she’s been obsessing over is on the case. As an energy reader, she’s drawn to him like no other, but she can’t explain why.
And that changes everything.
When Lucas Martinez ends up on the alluring lady’s doorstep because of a noise disturbance call, he is unexpectedly pulled into the world of the paranormal.
Burn marks on the floor and floating books? Nothing is as it seems.
As his attraction for the secretive witch grows, and as he digs into the mysteries surrounding her, he’s even more convinced Stella is at the center of it all.
Can the unlikely pair learn to trust each other or will the sinister forces surrounding them tear their burning romance—and the world—apart?
J.E. McDonaldwww.jemcdonald.net
My opinion - On my TBR shelf and I can't wait, there's ghosts and romance what more could you want!
Oranges for Miranda
Annette Bowerhttps://annettebower.com
Miranda Porter, an award-winning businesswoman, leaves home to transition into retirement. Always in control, this is her time to have fun without plans and responsibilities. Enter Renato Monteiro, a considerate Portuguese tour guide with secrets. Miranda isn’t looking for a long-term relationship. Could her senses be finding love in this unlikely place? Can a vacation romance survive the distance?
Renato Monteiro has decisions to make. Stay in his birth country where his female relatives want him to marry a young woman who can give him children. Or does he return to his second home, where he has a purpose and has built a life without children? The day Miranda and he bumped heads changes his perspective and his pursuit. Now he must decide which is most important: the family he was born into or the family he chooses.
My opinion - Early in my read, but I've always enjoyed this author's voice. Plus, it's set in Portugal's Algarve - one of my fave places on the planet - there's an adventure and a romance - I'm hooked!
Note:
While writing this post I was outside on my deck; an inspiring place to write most days. However, today some little creatures blew peace away in short order. I made the mistake of feeding the squirrels which I do quite regularly. But this time things got out of hand as soon I had a scurry (a group) of squirrels (yes scurry - I had to look it up). They've become quite tame, leaping up on patio furniture, taking peanuts from my hand and chattering at me. But today that scurry turned into a fight. One attacked another and then ran over to me looking like the perfect angel who really hadn't been that bully that chased the other one away. And, after too much infighting and more peanuts than any squirrel should really eat, they insisted on more. One after another they repeated that same move - fight, jump up on the chair where they begged more peanuts from me.
My peaceful day had turned into a squabbling scurry of squirrels. Finally the fighting ended when they realized the truth - the peanut train had stopped.
No worries, they're not starving and I guarantee after an hour nap, they'll be back.
And that's writing life on the prairies and in my outdoor office.
Ryshia
The Dead Sea, a tourist - my book - and a whole other story!Looking for book news? - follow me on: Bookbub Twitter: @ryshiakennieFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/Author.RyshiaKennieInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/ryshiakennie
https://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
April 9, 2021
In Real Time with Costa Maragos | Ryshia Kennie
Til next time!
Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.com
...a world you never imagined!
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The Dead Sea, a tourist - my book - and a whole other story!Looking for book news? - follow me on: Bookbub Twitter: @ryshiakennieFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/Author.RyshiaKennieInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/ryshiakenniehttp://ryshiakennie.comhttps://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
