Ryshia Kennie's Blog, page 24
June 24, 2013
Suspense and Sass - Meet Author J. M. Griffin And The Esposito Series
Today, I'm happy to welcome J. M. Griffin with her boxed set of mysteries led by a sleuth by the name of Vinnie who caught my attention in the first page. So read on... I suspect, that like me, you might not want to stop.
As a humorous, cozy mystery writer, J. M. adds a touch of romance to every story. She believes in fairies, doesn't believe in coincidence, and feels life is what you make it. Believe in yourself and look at the positive, not the negative, to bring about success. AND... never stop trying.
J. M. lives in rural New England with her husband and two very mysterious cats.
Now you can own the first three books in the sassy and suspenseful Esposito Series by J. M. Griffin!
By day, Lavinia (Vinnie) Esposito is a criminal justice instructor at a college in Rhode Island. By night Vinnie is an amateur sleuth, solving murders while trying to avoid getting yelled at by her Italian father, her hunky protective boyfriend Marcus Richmond, and her sexy upstairs tenant, the mysterious Aaron Grant.
For Love of Livvy (Book 1)
Vinnie investigates the death of her beloved aunt, and a mysterious box is left on her doorstep.
Dirty Trouble (Book 2)
Someone is stalking Vinnie and that's just the beginning of her troubles.
Dead Wrong (Book 3)
Vinnie is out to save her brother from being framed after a valuable painting is stolen.
Excerpt from Book 1 (For Love of Livvy):
The front door knocker rapped twice after the door bell rang. I hustled from the rear deck of the gargantuan house to answer the summons. Someone seemed impatient, and I was curious as to who it was. My watch read just after eight o'clock. I swung the heavy door open to find my prospective visitor absent.
It was so quiet, the town ghostly in its seemingly deserted state. Sundays were always lazy days in Scituate, once church was over. With a glance up and down the street of the small historic Rhode Island village, neat colonial homes stretched along the sides of the road in both directions. No one came into view.
On the doorstep, a package addressed to my recently deceased Aunt Livvy sat wrapped in brown paper. Again, I gawked up and down the street, but only empty sidewalks and barren roadway appeared in the waning light. The idea of a jaunt along the main drag entered my mind. I figured it would be senseless since the street was visible for about two hundred yards in either direction. Whoever had left the package was gone, long gone.
An eternity passed, or so it seemed, while my gaze locked onto the square, little box. Reluctant to touch it, I decided to call the local fire company to come take a gander. Call me paranoid, but as a criminal justice instructor, a recent audit of a class on bomb components remained fresh in my mind.
I quickly stepped into the living room and grabbed the phone. I dialed the private number of the fire station up the street. A grunt came across the phone line that could only be Bill MacNert.
"Hey Nerd, its Vinnie," I said. "A package was just left on my doorstep, could you come down and check it out for me?"
"Sure, you got a secret admirer or somethin?" he cackled, as only senior men can.
"Not likely, but you never know. This package is addressed to Lavinia Ciano, not Lavinia Esposito and is wrapped in brown paper. Nobody's here to accompany this little surprise either."
"I'll be right down. Vinnie, don't touch it." He warned.
"Okay."
Anxious, I paced back and forth across gleaming hard wood floors in the spacious living room of my newly acquired colonial. My fingernails tapped the enamel on my teeth as I wandered to and fro. As irrational as it seemed, I finally leaned against the door jamb inside the entry to wait MacNert to arrive.
It wasn't long before the limber old guy came into view as he hot footed down the street with a stethoscope in his hand. This particular piece of equipment wasn't quite what I'd expected, but then he wasn't a bomb expert either.
When he arrived on the doorstep slightly out of breath, he glanced at the parcel, and then turned toward me.
"This was just delivered, you say?" MacNert squinted toward me with wizened brown eyes that twinkled all the time. It was as though there was a private joke going on inside his head.
"Yeah, someone just knocked on the door, and when I went to answer, there was nobody around. It didn't seem prudent to mess with it, so I called you."
"You just finished that bomb class, eh?" He chuckled and then sobered quickly. Since 9/11, everyone took stuff like this with a serious attitude. While he chuckled, I knew MacNert was no different.
The stethoscope ends plugged into his ears, Bill laid his diaphragm on top of the package. Removing it, he gingerly set it against the sides and listened again. I didn't make a sound as he stood and glanced up.
"There's no tickin but that doesn't mean it's not explosive. You should probably call the state police barracks up the road. Have them send their bomb guys down for a lookie see, just to be on the safe side."
"Geez, I hate to do that. I'll feel stupid if it's a joke," I whined.
"It's up to you, but if you were nervous enough to call me, then you should call them. It's just my opinion, Vin." He stepped over the box and wandered into the entryway. "Got anythin to eat? Wifey's out of town visitin her sister and I'm starved."
Bill didn't seem concerned, but then again, he hadn't recently taken a bomb class either. My eyes never left the box as I answered him. "There's food in the fridge, help yourself."
I'd known the homely man and his family for years and respected his opinion. Tapping my fingers against my lips, I called after him, "You're right. I'll ring the police now, but stick around okay?"
Unwilling to be nailed as over-dramatic by the staties, I reluctantly punched in the numbers. It was bad enough that the local cops had bugged the shit out of me for the first month after Aunt Livvy's death. They still stopped by now and then, annoying me even more with stupid questions. Questions for which I had no answers.
The box set of this trio of J.M. Griffin's novels can be purchased here:
www.lachesispublishing.com/proddetails.asp?prod=EspositoBoxSet1-3E
Find more on J. M. Griffin at:
On Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/JM-Griffin/246751368685078
Her blog: mycozymysteries.blogspot.com
On Twitter: mycozymystery
http://ryshiakennie.com
https://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
As a humorous, cozy mystery writer, J. M. adds a touch of romance to every story. She believes in fairies, doesn't believe in coincidence, and feels life is what you make it. Believe in yourself and look at the positive, not the negative, to bring about success. AND... never stop trying.
J. M. lives in rural New England with her husband and two very mysterious cats.
Now you can own the first three books in the sassy and suspenseful Esposito Series by J. M. Griffin!
By day, Lavinia (Vinnie) Esposito is a criminal justice instructor at a college in Rhode Island. By night Vinnie is an amateur sleuth, solving murders while trying to avoid getting yelled at by her Italian father, her hunky protective boyfriend Marcus Richmond, and her sexy upstairs tenant, the mysterious Aaron Grant.
For Love of Livvy (Book 1)
Vinnie investigates the death of her beloved aunt, and a mysterious box is left on her doorstep.
Dirty Trouble (Book 2)
Someone is stalking Vinnie and that's just the beginning of her troubles.
Dead Wrong (Book 3)
Vinnie is out to save her brother from being framed after a valuable painting is stolen.
Excerpt from Book 1 (For Love of Livvy):
The front door knocker rapped twice after the door bell rang. I hustled from the rear deck of the gargantuan house to answer the summons. Someone seemed impatient, and I was curious as to who it was. My watch read just after eight o'clock. I swung the heavy door open to find my prospective visitor absent.
It was so quiet, the town ghostly in its seemingly deserted state. Sundays were always lazy days in Scituate, once church was over. With a glance up and down the street of the small historic Rhode Island village, neat colonial homes stretched along the sides of the road in both directions. No one came into view.
On the doorstep, a package addressed to my recently deceased Aunt Livvy sat wrapped in brown paper. Again, I gawked up and down the street, but only empty sidewalks and barren roadway appeared in the waning light. The idea of a jaunt along the main drag entered my mind. I figured it would be senseless since the street was visible for about two hundred yards in either direction. Whoever had left the package was gone, long gone.
An eternity passed, or so it seemed, while my gaze locked onto the square, little box. Reluctant to touch it, I decided to call the local fire company to come take a gander. Call me paranoid, but as a criminal justice instructor, a recent audit of a class on bomb components remained fresh in my mind.
I quickly stepped into the living room and grabbed the phone. I dialed the private number of the fire station up the street. A grunt came across the phone line that could only be Bill MacNert.
"Hey Nerd, its Vinnie," I said. "A package was just left on my doorstep, could you come down and check it out for me?"
"Sure, you got a secret admirer or somethin?" he cackled, as only senior men can.
"Not likely, but you never know. This package is addressed to Lavinia Ciano, not Lavinia Esposito and is wrapped in brown paper. Nobody's here to accompany this little surprise either."
"I'll be right down. Vinnie, don't touch it." He warned.
"Okay."
Anxious, I paced back and forth across gleaming hard wood floors in the spacious living room of my newly acquired colonial. My fingernails tapped the enamel on my teeth as I wandered to and fro. As irrational as it seemed, I finally leaned against the door jamb inside the entry to wait MacNert to arrive.
It wasn't long before the limber old guy came into view as he hot footed down the street with a stethoscope in his hand. This particular piece of equipment wasn't quite what I'd expected, but then he wasn't a bomb expert either.
When he arrived on the doorstep slightly out of breath, he glanced at the parcel, and then turned toward me.
"This was just delivered, you say?" MacNert squinted toward me with wizened brown eyes that twinkled all the time. It was as though there was a private joke going on inside his head.
"Yeah, someone just knocked on the door, and when I went to answer, there was nobody around. It didn't seem prudent to mess with it, so I called you."
"You just finished that bomb class, eh?" He chuckled and then sobered quickly. Since 9/11, everyone took stuff like this with a serious attitude. While he chuckled, I knew MacNert was no different.
The stethoscope ends plugged into his ears, Bill laid his diaphragm on top of the package. Removing it, he gingerly set it against the sides and listened again. I didn't make a sound as he stood and glanced up.
"There's no tickin but that doesn't mean it's not explosive. You should probably call the state police barracks up the road. Have them send their bomb guys down for a lookie see, just to be on the safe side."
"Geez, I hate to do that. I'll feel stupid if it's a joke," I whined.
"It's up to you, but if you were nervous enough to call me, then you should call them. It's just my opinion, Vin." He stepped over the box and wandered into the entryway. "Got anythin to eat? Wifey's out of town visitin her sister and I'm starved."
Bill didn't seem concerned, but then again, he hadn't recently taken a bomb class either. My eyes never left the box as I answered him. "There's food in the fridge, help yourself."
I'd known the homely man and his family for years and respected his opinion. Tapping my fingers against my lips, I called after him, "You're right. I'll ring the police now, but stick around okay?"
Unwilling to be nailed as over-dramatic by the staties, I reluctantly punched in the numbers. It was bad enough that the local cops had bugged the shit out of me for the first month after Aunt Livvy's death. They still stopped by now and then, annoying me even more with stupid questions. Questions for which I had no answers.
The box set of this trio of J.M. Griffin's novels can be purchased here:
www.lachesispublishing.com/proddetails.asp?prod=EspositoBoxSet1-3E
Find more on J. M. Griffin at:
On Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/JM-Griffin/246751368685078
Her blog: mycozymysteries.blogspot.com
On Twitter: mycozymystery
http://ryshiakennie.com
https://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
May 30, 2013
Going Once, Going Twice - Gone!
This weekend my travels took me through the dark and crowded mazes of the garage sale. I got to stick my nose into the fine art of the garage sale from the proprietor's side of the table. I held a garage sale for my mother who had a collection of unique and interesting things acquired through years of gathering and neatly storing. There were things that dated back to my grandparents and even my great grandparents. It's amazing what a shelf can hold when you dig to the back of those neatly stacked piles.
It was weeks of preparation and doubts that customers would even come through the door. Worse, we chose of all weekends, the one weekend in May that has had rain consistently over every year I can remember. Don't ask me why about either the sale or the rain but somethings just are. Fortunately, the rain greeted us only one day but even that I didn't notice, I was too busy hopping from one customer query to another.
It is on the working floor of the garage sale that you meet the underpinnings of the garage sale circuit; the antique dealers, the unique dealers and the scroungers. They are the people that scoop up everything they think they might resell or what may be of value. Value is a two pronged sword and often value only meant interest - two or three dollars worth. But who knew that a plastic phonograph/radio with a chunk out of its side was worth even that. After all it was worthless to one dealer but worth a gentleman's argument for another two. And that iron stove that almost amputated toes, well it went out the door, rust, ancient coal dust and all.
Add caption
There are people who just collect, there are people who collect and recycle and there are those - well, those that just like to snoop and discover something unique or just plain reuseable. And you know, I don't mind garage sales, most days, I mean arriving as a customer. I like snooping through new old stuff. I don't know what's with that. But I do know as I sat in my plastic chair poised to process yet another
transaction that I couldn't help going through the book table to my left.
And yes I did rescue one, then two and finally three. But I didn't get
that book, the one that one man had me leaping out of my chair for the
hundred dollar bill he claimed was between it's pages. Wrong. And I
didn't bother to tell him that it was too late for April Fools.
But most of all what I got from that garage sale were characters, characters with more stories than I have time to tell in such a short blog post. It was that moment in time when my life intersected with people I might not normally have met. Fantastic fun for anyone, invaluable for a writer.
And my find from the sale - besides those books, a portable exerciser for abs. And if I don't use it - it's too small to hang clothes on!
Any finds in your day?
Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.com
Find me on Goodreads, Facebook or Twitter http://ryshiakennie.com
https://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
It was weeks of preparation and doubts that customers would even come through the door. Worse, we chose of all weekends, the one weekend in May that has had rain consistently over every year I can remember. Don't ask me why about either the sale or the rain but somethings just are. Fortunately, the rain greeted us only one day but even that I didn't notice, I was too busy hopping from one customer query to another.
It is on the working floor of the garage sale that you meet the underpinnings of the garage sale circuit; the antique dealers, the unique dealers and the scroungers. They are the people that scoop up everything they think they might resell or what may be of value. Value is a two pronged sword and often value only meant interest - two or three dollars worth. But who knew that a plastic phonograph/radio with a chunk out of its side was worth even that. After all it was worthless to one dealer but worth a gentleman's argument for another two. And that iron stove that almost amputated toes, well it went out the door, rust, ancient coal dust and all.
Add caption
There are people who just collect, there are people who collect and recycle and there are those - well, those that just like to snoop and discover something unique or just plain reuseable. And you know, I don't mind garage sales, most days, I mean arriving as a customer. I like snooping through new old stuff. I don't know what's with that. But I do know as I sat in my plastic chair poised to process yet another
transaction that I couldn't help going through the book table to my left.
And yes I did rescue one, then two and finally three. But I didn't get
that book, the one that one man had me leaping out of my chair for the
hundred dollar bill he claimed was between it's pages. Wrong. And I
didn't bother to tell him that it was too late for April Fools.
But most of all what I got from that garage sale were characters, characters with more stories than I have time to tell in such a short blog post. It was that moment in time when my life intersected with people I might not normally have met. Fantastic fun for anyone, invaluable for a writer.
And my find from the sale - besides those books, a portable exerciser for abs. And if I don't use it - it's too small to hang clothes on!
Any finds in your day?
Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.com
Find me on Goodreads, Facebook or Twitter http://ryshiakennie.com
https://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
May 15, 2013
The Difference A Day Makes
Today I'm hosting Barbara Longley with her latest release The Difference A Day Makes .
Welcome Barbara
And, to start things off - here's a little bit about Barbara:As a child, Barbara Longley moved frequently, learning early on how to entertain herself with stories. Adulthood didn't tame her peripatetic ways: she has lived on an Appalachian commune, taught on an Indian reservation, and traveled the country from coast to coast. After having children of her own, she decided to try staying put, choosing Minnesota as her home. By day, she puts her master's degree in special education to use teaching elementary school. By night, she explores all thing mythical, paranormal, and newsworthy, channeling what she learns into her writing.
Blurb for The Difference A Day Makes
Ryan Malloy has lost it all. After his fiancee dies in a tragic accident, he enlists in the army, only to lose his best friend in a roadside bombing. Wracked with guilt and grief, Ryan finds his life unbearable--until a job offer from his former commander gives him a glimmer of hope. And in the tiny town of Perfect, Indiana, the man who thought he had nothing left to live for meets the only woman who can tempt him into risking his battered heart one last time...
Paige Langford has it all: wealth, beauty, and ambition. But when her boyfriend's betrayal leads to the loss of her job and her reputation, she retreats to her brother's rural Indiana home to regroup. There she meets Ryan Malloy, a gruff, hard-drinking loner whose surly temper can't hide the haunted misery in his eyes. He is everything Paige never wanted, yet he may be exactly what she needs--if only they can overcome their personal demons to forge a love strong enough to save them both.
Excerpt from The Difference A Day Makes
Throwing her shoulders back, Paige knocked on Mr. Weil's door.
"Come in," he barked from inside.
Smoothing her face into a professional mien, she opened the door and strode in. One look at his expression, and she faltered. He looked serious. Seriously unhappy. What the hell?
"Have a seat, Langford." He moved a pile of folders aside.
She took one of the chairs in front of his huge, imported desk. "You wanted to see me?"
"Hmmm." He scowled her way. "Meyer Construction needed our bid five business days ago. They never got it. They've gone with another supplier."
An adrenaline shock shook her system, and her heart leaped in her throat. She gripped the arms of her chair. "That's impossible! I sent that bid with a same-day courier two days before it was due."
"Like I said--they never got it." He leaned back in his expensive leather chair and fixed her with a baleful scowl. "I've also had two other accounts you handled complain that their bids were late, holding them up and delaying their contractors. If it weren't for Anthony Ruger's intervention, we would've lost those accounts as well."
"Anthony's... intervention?" Her mind spun with the implications. Anthony?
Her mind flew back to the day the courier had come to the lobby for the Meyer bid. She'd been in the middle of a phone call, and Anthony had offered to take the envelope down to the lobby for her. At the time, she'd thought it was sweet. Come to think of it, he'd also offered to put a few of her bids into the office's outgoing mail bin for her. No, he wouldn't purposely sabotage her. Would he? They were a couple.
Heat filled her face. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."
"Damn straight it won't. You're fired."
"Oh, no. There's been a mistake. I had somebody else put the bids in the mail for me. They must've forgotten, or..." Shit. Shit. Shit. She glanced around the office as the reality of Anthony's betrayal sank in. "I won't let it happen again, Mr. Weil. I'll get the Meyer Account back somehow." She sucked in a breath. "From now on, I will personally put things in the out bin myself, and--"
"Miss Langford, you're done here."
To find out more or to contact Barbara, you can find her online at:
www.barabaralongley.com
http://ryshiakennie.com
https://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
May 6, 2013
Eldon Taylor - I Believe
Today is the launch of Eldon Taylor's latest book, I Believe. It is a book launch that I was again asked to take part in and was happy to oblige as I've found with Eldon's books, they might be non-fiction but they're entertaining as well as thought provoking. Better yet, Eldon Taylor writes one inspirational book after another. So first off Eldon's provided some answers to often asked questions and we'll follow it all up with my review.
Q and A with Eldon TaylorWhat was the motivation and inspiration behind your latest book, I Believe?
I have spent over thirty years investigating why people self-sabotage or limit themselves, thus experiencing so much less then their highest best! What I have found is the reason rests solely in their beliefs--not their religious beliefs so much as their life beliefs. I found this to be true when I was conducting lie detection tests and discovering criminality, and equally true when I worked with elite athletes, business executives, professionals and lay people alike. The bottom line is this: What you believe always matters! It's like a web that fastens itself to belief-anchors, causing disheartening mediocrity in place of the glorious success we all seek.
I Believe spells out the power of belief and how it influences everything from our health and longevity to our success with out relationships and life. Astounding as it may seem, belief can (and has) defied our so-called laws of science and it has done so over and over again. As ordinary and trite as it may seem, belief nevertheless makes all the difference in success in all walks of life. Knowing how we acquire our beliefs, and which beliefs serve us while others sabotage us, is critical to maximizing our individual potential. I Believe: When What You Believe Matters! was written to empower you with the roadmap to decipher and re-write the programming governing your life.
If you don't mind sharing, as the author, how has the belief in positive thinking impacted your life?
Years ago I had the proverbial chip on my shoulder. I began paying my own way at age 12, paying my parents room and board and buying my own clothes and school books. I left home at an early age filled with anger directed at my parents. I could go on, but the point can be summarized this way as well. You could fairly say that back then, the bumper sticker stating "Life sucks and then you die," accurately reflected my beliefs. As time went on, both my education and avocation, revealed something truly important: I could not blame anyone else for the problems with my life and I was the only one who could change it! I basically learned how to examine all of my beliefs, and how to change those that were not working for me. As a result, I have been happily married for over 30 years, am successful in my career and feel that I am on the spiritual path for me. Also my business is focused on teaching others the techniques I have learned and today it helps people all around the world uncover their highest potential. The thank you notes I receive daily truly do brighten my life.
What is the first and foremost message you want your readers to receive from I Believe?
That they were born with all the gifts they need to fully maximize this life experience. If things are not going as well as they had once hoped, then it is time to reassess their beliefs and to choose once again. The fact is, there is a truly remarkable and near unlimited power that resides within all, that is the very essence of our individual uniqueness. All we need to do is tap into the source of our ability and express the gift that is who we really are.
Are there any final words of wisdom you'd like to share with your readers?
I would leave this thought with everyone. Most of us believe what we believe without ever truly examining it. In that sense, we live out counterfeit lives. As children we pretend to be many things and out make belief often becomes how we walk and talk. We change our clothes and we change our personality. Our behavior and our language can be totally different when we are in Levis and boots versus a three-piece suit.
Many of us have learned to be effective chameleons, just so we can feel as though we fit in, but in the process we have neglected the discovery of our selves. We have learned to avoid rejection and thereby limited what we might try. We are full of what I have called the "no-don't syndrome"--all those negatives that inform us we might fail, we're no good, we're not old enough, we're stupid or skinny or fat and so on. This too has become part of our belief network, as we have the various defense mechanisms that protect us from pain and rejection. We think in sound bytes taken from our culture and race to consume the latest whatever in a never ending need for more. In the end, it is our self-doubt that prohibits our higher realization of who we are and perhaps why we're here. The subtitle of I Believe is "When What You Believe Matters," and that about sums up the answer for creating the person you were meant to be, for what you believe--the tiniest of beliefs, always matters!
Eldon Taylor has spent over 25 years researching the power of the mind and developing scientifically proven methods to use this power to enhance the quality of your life. I Believe is a book that will not only inspire you, but will highlight the kinds of beliefs you hold that may be causing you to fail. In the process, it will provide you with the opportunity to choose, once again, the beliefs that drive your life. Eldon is having a wonderful launch party so you really should check it out: http://www.progressiveawarenesspromotions.com/it/13e/index/J.php
My review of I Believe :
(Four stars)
I Believe begins with a tantalizing forward that alludes to the fact that we don't have to lead an ant-colony like existence, that there can be more. I Believe is a testament to the power of the human mind and how it can influence out lives. As usual, Taylor's effortless writing style had me immediately hooked as I read how what you believe can affect everything in your life from your character and your success or lack there of, to potentially - your health. Remember Maslow's hierarchy? Are you self-actualized and if not what level are you at?
"The power of belief, the absolutely awesome
incredible power of belief, is the genie in your life.
Let me say that again: The absolutely awesome and
incredible power of your belief is the genie in your life."
What I didn't expect were some of the religious references and I found that they didn't weave as smoothly as some of the more scientific facts. However, Taylor skillfully brings forward more proof of the power of belief by weaving science with other stories, many from his own experience, that combine in this non-fiction read to make you forget at times that you're not just reading for sheer enjoyment.
All in all, I Believe was a thought provoking read that I'd recommend for anyone interested in exploring the power of the human mind.
So if any of this has you as intrigued as I was, I'd suggest you check out the book launch site. There's a lot of things going on for this launch and some big name sponsors too. Check it all out here to take part in what looks to be an exciting book launch - click here to go to "I Believe".
Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.com
http://ryshiakennie.com
https://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
May 5, 2013
Shorts, T-shirts, Snowbanks and The Book Trailer
It's Cinco de Mayo and we're celebrating.... it's an excuse to pull out
the tequila and put out the lawn furniture. It's time to wave goodbye to what remains of the snowbanks. Yes, all
my warm weather friends - there's still enough snow to make
The last dregs of prairie winter.
a snowman here on our little piece of prairie.
But that aside, the jackets are in the closet and the shorts are out.
In fact one intrepid little neighbour is right now dressed in shorts and burrowing into a
snowbank with a sand shovel.
So before
I get to all that celebrating, winter's end and the final arrival of
spring and, of course, Cinco de Mayo, let's talk book trailers. I never
appreciated the book trailers for my first two books so much as when I
set out to make one myself.
Where to start?
I
have a Mac so the first thing I learned was that the Powerpoint version for Mac is a
possible option, but it requires an additional program for us Mac users to load
to youtube. The second thing I learned
Fatal Intent - in the heart of the jungle.
is that imovie, Apple's movie making program, doesn't come with a half hour learning curve. I
suspect that imovie works better if you were familiar with it before you jumped in to do a book trailer. Yes, I tried Powerpoint, didn't locate the program to upload and fiddled with imovie as well - why focus on one thing if you can do two or more at once is my motto. Neither was providing me with a quick and painless trailer - one
that I could live with and someone might actually want to watch without grinding their teeth. And
then I tripped on an online program that provides a free option.
So off I went, after all what did I have to lose? It took a bit of work but Fatal Intent has a book trailer. With a bit of creativity you can come up
with something workable. It's a base to try something a little more complicated next time and then the next... and before you know it the book trailer will evolve to a full size movie...okay, not.
So here it is, my first step into creating a book trailer click on through to see the finished product: Fatal Intent
What
else is in the works? Well, Monday is the final day of Fatal Intent's
epic tour and to cap off the tour, my last stop is at Black Velvet Seductions tomorrow, Monday, May 6. If nothing else you've got to stop by to see the header picture on the blog, it's adorable! Seriously, although it is adorable, I'm looking forward to the day, kind of sad that the tour is over but excited that someone is going to win the grand prize - a signed copy of From the Dust and a DVD copy of that vintage movie, East of Borneo. So come on by, chat with me and be entered for
prizes.
There's more than that happening. I reviewed
Eldon Taylor's recent book, "I Believe" and I loved it. I'll be posting
all about that here on May 7 as Eldon begins the launch of another inspirational book.
So, yeah it's going to be a
busy week. But in the meantime, sit back and enjoy Fatal Intent's trailer. To celebrate - hey it's Cinco de Mayo, how timely. Margarita
anyone?
Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.com http://ryshiakennie.com
https://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
the tequila and put out the lawn furniture. It's time to wave goodbye to what remains of the snowbanks. Yes, all
my warm weather friends - there's still enough snow to make
The last dregs of prairie winter.
a snowman here on our little piece of prairie.
But that aside, the jackets are in the closet and the shorts are out.
In fact one intrepid little neighbour is right now dressed in shorts and burrowing into a
snowbank with a sand shovel.
So before
I get to all that celebrating, winter's end and the final arrival of
spring and, of course, Cinco de Mayo, let's talk book trailers. I never
appreciated the book trailers for my first two books so much as when I
set out to make one myself.
Where to start?
I
have a Mac so the first thing I learned was that the Powerpoint version for Mac is a
possible option, but it requires an additional program for us Mac users to load
to youtube. The second thing I learned
Fatal Intent - in the heart of the jungle.
is that imovie, Apple's movie making program, doesn't come with a half hour learning curve. I
suspect that imovie works better if you were familiar with it before you jumped in to do a book trailer. Yes, I tried Powerpoint, didn't locate the program to upload and fiddled with imovie as well - why focus on one thing if you can do two or more at once is my motto. Neither was providing me with a quick and painless trailer - one
that I could live with and someone might actually want to watch without grinding their teeth. And
then I tripped on an online program that provides a free option.
So off I went, after all what did I have to lose? It took a bit of work but Fatal Intent has a book trailer. With a bit of creativity you can come up
with something workable. It's a base to try something a little more complicated next time and then the next... and before you know it the book trailer will evolve to a full size movie...okay, not.
So here it is, my first step into creating a book trailer click on through to see the finished product: Fatal Intent
What
else is in the works? Well, Monday is the final day of Fatal Intent's
epic tour and to cap off the tour, my last stop is at Black Velvet Seductions tomorrow, Monday, May 6. If nothing else you've got to stop by to see the header picture on the blog, it's adorable! Seriously, although it is adorable, I'm looking forward to the day, kind of sad that the tour is over but excited that someone is going to win the grand prize - a signed copy of From the Dust and a DVD copy of that vintage movie, East of Borneo. So come on by, chat with me and be entered for
prizes.
There's more than that happening. I reviewed
Eldon Taylor's recent book, "I Believe" and I loved it. I'll be posting
all about that here on May 7 as Eldon begins the launch of another inspirational book.
So, yeah it's going to be a
busy week. But in the meantime, sit back and enjoy Fatal Intent's trailer. To celebrate - hey it's Cinco de Mayo, how timely. Margarita
anyone?
Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.com http://ryshiakennie.com
https://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
April 14, 2013
Boots by George
What's a dog to do when he can't get to the fire hydrant?
So I said no more posts about the weather, no more whining about the weather, just no more weather,
period. Of course, that was a while ago, and now with still no end in sight, well, we're cranky lot up here in the frozen north this April. I'm not even getting jazzed about starting a new story or fiddling with a book trailer or...
But there is something I'm excited about.
Boots!
Yes, boots! Waterproof boots!
I really wanted something to replace my Sorrels. After sixteen seasons, they finally collapsed. I suppose I can't complain. But what I did want was a pair of Sorrels to replace them. I began and ended my search near the end of January. Apparently, in Saskatchewan in late winter you can buy the latest summer gear but no winter gear.
Saskatchewan averages over five months of winter-like weather and that's not counting the weeks of chilly slush. Wouldn't it be wise to stock winter apparel year round - possibly be specialists in outfitting for winter? It would make more sense than the frustrating boot search that was followed just three weeks ago by a city-wide search for a snow shovel. With two recorded roofs collapsing in the city, snow was more serious business than usual this winter. Most stores had no snow shovels. What they did have was lawn furniture.
Mid-April, get out the toboggan.
Lawn furniture?
Three weeks ago, we had no need of a new chaise lounge unless to maybe lounge on the recently shoveled deck, with a "too cold" beer in hand and view the "no exaggeration' seven foot snow bank juxtaposed against its six foot counterpart all framed quite nicely by hoar frost.
A glimmer of a sidewalk.
Fast forward three weeks - there's still no rush on the lawn furniture.
So back to my George's. They're Walmart specials, $19.99 on sale and you know what, the other day I proved they were waterproof. They aren't fancy but they keep my feet warm and dry.
Sometimes the simplest solution is the best whether with footwear or with a story. Like the current story, it just needed a few edits and I wasn't too happy with one of the later chapters. I stalled for a while thinking I'd have to rewrite and then, eureka, an idea came to me. It was a simple as tweaking a few paragraphs because really all I needed was already written, just covered in - well things that shouldn't be there. Kind of like my Walmart boots. They were a last resort, too simple, too economical to possibly beat out a pair of Sorrels. And yeah, they won't make the cut at -25 celsius, but for now, they're just the fix.And this Monday, April 15 I'm over at BK Walker Books with Fatal Intent. Stop by and leave a comment. I'd love the company. And as usual, follow the tour and any comment enters you for the grand prize at the end of the tour and a prize on the day. See details on my website.
Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.com http://ryshiakennie.com
https://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
April 7, 2013
I'm Drowning - And I Won't Put My Feet Down!
2013 started with a bang, the wrong kind of bang. You know those years when if it could go wrong it did, when worst case scenario became the common denominator? The first few months of 2013 knocked me on my butt and sent me skidding across the floor. It was kind of like when my niece was small she wanted to paddle around in our pool but as soon as she got in the water she clung to my neck and refused to let go. I kept assuring her that the water wasn't over her head, she only needed to put her feet down. Took a while but she finally put her feet down and after that it was an afternoon love affair with the pool. Now I know how she felt. For a while the floor looked safe, after all, once you've landed you can't fall again.
But I got up. And the first thing I turned to was books. I've turned into a reading machine but worse, I'm reading books at a time. Not, that this is abnormal for me - I tend to read three books at once. But when I sheepishly added book four on my Goodreads list of currently reading and the system really only shows three, well I knew I was heading into the "bad reader" corner. And then when I made the mistake of going to the library to make copies of the last remnants of what is "owed Caesar' I found myself drawn to the aisles of books where I found not one but two more. And they were the short-loan books too.
April in Saskatchewan
So I have more to add to the list of four on the go. That's a little over the top even for me. So when the librarian also alerted me to the fact that there's a hold on my facebook marketing book, I knew it was all over. I'd put that book to the side and already double renewed. Now, I had to either invest in a pair of reading glasses, okay not ready for that, but I needed to get my nose in some books and quickly.
Hmmm - maybe all this reading is just a way to get out of the winter blahs and into the excitement of spring. Or maybe, like my mother threatened to do just this afternoon, I should follow her example and just go out and buy a new outfit, preferably something in lime green, brilliant yellow or laughing red.
Seriously, reading is critical to writers and maybe I'm just playing catchup after a few months of drought.
And on other fronts, Monday I'll be over at You Gotta Read Reviews with Fatal Intent. Stop by leave a comment and if you haven't started already, follow the remainder of the tour or pop by and leave a comment. There's prizes for comments throughout ending in a grand prize at the end.
And you, what book has your attention. Is it fact or is it fiction?
Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.com
Ryshia's Goodreads
Ryshia's Facebookhttp://ryshiakennie.com
https://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
March 31, 2013
Out and About on April 1
The winter, as crazy and snowy as it has been - and seemingly never-ending, is about to end. Spring is here and Easter is upon us. And the long awaited melt, sorry Mr. Snow Rabbit, has begun. Monday, April 1 - I'll be over at Stephanie's Bookshelf as part of my tour with my latest book Fatal Intent. Stop by just to visit and be entered for a chance to win a copy of my first book From the Dust and the grand prize - the movie East of Borneo and an autographed copy of From the Dust. Besides all that, Stephanie's Bookshelf just looks like a good place to hang out. And I promise, no April Fool's tricks.
Happy Easter!
Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.comhttp://ryshiakennie.com
https://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
March 24, 2013
And One Roof Rake On The Side
Roof rakes - if you don't know what one is then I don't know if we should talk, at least not until spring.
Spring - yes I know it's here. Is it possible that the weather man or woman doesn't get the fact that it's spring? Has no one spoken to Mother Nature? The snow is not going away. It's not budging. In fact I believe it might be mocking me.
Okay, possibly not.
But...
It snowed again last night and the night before that and...Spring is a date that is out of whack with reality. The front steps are invisible from the driveway due to a mountain of snow. I'll have side of snow...I meant slaw. No really I didn't ask for this!
In roof rake land - we stay young forever, oops, no I meant we have snow forever.
Roof rakes - well if you don't know what one is then I'm not sure I want to talk. I suspect you're harbouring good weather. I suspect... oh, never mind. One day you'll ask me what a toboggan is and that is some fun that can't be had in good weather. Definitely a lot more fun than a roof rake. Did I mention my last bottle of suntan lotion dried up but I have a spare toque if anyone needs one?
Spring is here and there's nothing to see but snow
Roof rakes, I didn't know what one was either until two years ago. Then they made an appearance, filling the shelves in the local Canadian Tire, being snapped up by tens and then hundreds and then... Well, now you can't go on a walk in winter without seeing a roof rake in action.
They're used to get snow off roofs and are great for people that don't actually want to get on the roof. Although there are many intrepid souls that crawl right up there and start shoveling, my DH for one. Interestingly enough, it's only men that I see on the roof with a shovel, the occasional woman, well she's bravely manning the roof rake from the mid-rungs of a ladder. Is it possible, that the last domain of man is the roof?
So I'm leaving now without a single answer. But Monday, maybe I'll ponder it some more while remembering a place where there's no snow, Borneo.
Monday I'm over on another trail and taking my latest book, Fatal Intent, a romantic suspense set in the Borneo rain forest, with me. I'll be at Read Your Writes Book Reviews all day. It's all part of Fatal Intent's tour. Stop by - leave a comment and be entered to win a a copy of my book, From the Dust and also be entered for a chance to win the grand prize at the end of the tour. And I checked it out - there's no snow at Read Your Writes!
So roof rakes on the prairies - any oddities in your part of the world? Leave a comment or come on by to Read Your Writes on Monday - Let's talk!
Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.com
http://ryshiakennie.com
https://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
March 15, 2013
Omens and Opportunities
The Ides of March is upon us. Is that a good or bad thing? An omen or a window of opportunity, or just another day.
Today I'm posting over at the Romance Studio. I picked today because it was the Ides. Why, you ask or maybe you didn't? Fortuitous I thought and in what context I thought that I'm not sure. In my defense it was a few months ago when I made the decision. But I'm glad I did. The Romance Studio are always good people to hang out with. So, hop on over and chat with me for a bit. With the snow falling like soft rain outside, I'm not straying far from the house today.
It's edging close to the annual spring craft sale that I was introduced to by my intrepid sister-in-law who is the power engine behind craft sale promotion. And somewhere in all this, my dog Rourke became the poster child for craft sales, appearing in ad after ad. I believe it was his penchant for unwrapping presents that began it all. He unwraps every one beginning with his own.
Yes, Rourke you didn't quite make Fire House Dog - although they (as apparently there were four dogs playing one role) too were Irish Terriers, but you made the local craft sale circuit.
Every dog has to start somewhere!
Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.comhttp://ryshiakennie.com
https://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
Today I'm posting over at the Romance Studio. I picked today because it was the Ides. Why, you ask or maybe you didn't? Fortuitous I thought and in what context I thought that I'm not sure. In my defense it was a few months ago when I made the decision. But I'm glad I did. The Romance Studio are always good people to hang out with. So, hop on over and chat with me for a bit. With the snow falling like soft rain outside, I'm not straying far from the house today.
It's edging close to the annual spring craft sale that I was introduced to by my intrepid sister-in-law who is the power engine behind craft sale promotion. And somewhere in all this, my dog Rourke became the poster child for craft sales, appearing in ad after ad. I believe it was his penchant for unwrapping presents that began it all. He unwraps every one beginning with his own.
Yes, Rourke you didn't quite make Fire House Dog - although they (as apparently there were four dogs playing one role) too were Irish Terriers, but you made the local craft sale circuit.
Every dog has to start somewhere!
Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.comhttp://ryshiakennie.com
https://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
