Ryshia Kennie's Blog, page 29
July 10, 2012
A Virtual Tour - Author Jana Richards and Home Fires
It's summer time, that time of easy days, the long wait for warm weather ended(for us northerners) and hopefully a bit of vacation. So with easy days in mind, today there's something a little different, a new release made for summer, Jana Richards latest release, a novella, Home Fires. Stop by, chat with the author and be entered for a prize. As part of her tour, Jana will be offering a $25 Amazon gift certificate to one lucky commenter. So up your odds of success and follow the remainder of Jana's tour, adding a comment as you go.
Prizes, it doesn't stop there - Jana is also offering up to July 18, a bonus gift for anyone who purchases a copy of Home Fires. Check out the details on her website: www.janarichards.net.
Jana has tried her hand at many writing projects over the years, from magazine articles and short stories to full-length paranormal suspense and romantic comedy. She loves to create characters with a sense of humor, but also a serious side. She believes there's nothing more interesting then peeling back the layers of a character to see what makes them tick.
When not writing up a storm, working at her day job as an Office Administrator, or dealing with ever present mountains of laundry, Jana can be found on the local golf course pursuing her newest hobby.
Jana lives in Western Canada with her husband Warren, and a highly spoiled Pug/Terrier cross named Lou.
Welcome Jana!!
And here is Jana's response to:
Life hasn't been the same since...
There have been several trips that changed my life. The short trip down the aisle to marry my husband was the first major change. For the first time in my life, I had to focus on 'us' instead of 'just me'. I'm not an only child, but my brother is seven years older. He had moved away from home by the time I was twelve, so it was almost like being an only child. When I married my husband at twenty-one, I had to learn to share, learn to compromise, and learn to live as a couple. We must have done something right, because we just celebrated our 34th wedding anniversary!
The next trips that changed my life were the two trips I made to the hospital to give birth to my daughters. I was thrilled the first time I became pregnant, and so ready to be a mother. Unfortunately, twelve weeks into my pregnancy, I miscarried. I was devastated, but undeterred. As soon as I got the green light from the doctor, we tried again and I became pregnant right away. This time everything went according to plan. I had a smooth, uneventful pregnancy and nine months later we made the short ten minute trip to the hospital. The delivery didn't go quite as smoothly as the pregnancy. After hours in labor, I had a c-section. But it was okay. I had a beautiful, healthy baby girl and that was all that mattered.
In the five years between the births of my two daughters, I had more miscarriages. At times I thought we'd never have more children and we even thought of adopting. But finally, after so many more tries, I was able to carry my pregnancy to term. The trip to the hospital for our second daughter's birth took a lot longer than the first time. Because of the difficulties I'd had, I was seeing a specialist in a city 200 kilometers away, a two hour drive. Any pregnant woman will tell you that a two hour drive when you're about to give birth is not fun. In the end, all the uncomfortable car rides, all the heartaches faded away when I held my beautiful, healthy baby girl in my arms.
Anyone who has children knows that life is never the same after you give birth. There are sleepless nights, and endless responsibilities. There are times when you wonder if you're doing the right thing, if you're teaching them what they need to know to become happy successful adults. But there is also much joy. I can't imagine not being a mother.
I know that being a parent has made me stronger. It's given me tenacity and determination I didn't know I possessed. And I know now that being a mother never ends, no matter how old my children get.
Blurb from Home Fires:
Anne Wakefield travels halfway around the world for love. But when she arrives in Canada from England at the end of World War Two, she discovers the handsome Canadian pilot she'd fallen in love with has married someone else. Heartbroken, she prepares to return to London, though she has nothing left there to return to. Her former fiance's mother makes a suggestion: marriage to her other son.
Badly wounded and scarred during the war, Erik Gustafson thinks he's a poor substitute for his brother. Although he loves Anne almost from the first time he sees her, he cannot believe she would ever be able to love him as he is--especially as he might be after another operation on his bad leg. Anne sees the beauty of his heart. The cold prairie winter may test her courage, but can she prove to Erik that her love for him is real?An excerpt from Home Fires:
She offered him her hand. Erik looked at it for a moment, then at her face. Not a trace of pity marred her beautiful features. He took her small, soft hand in his, and was surprised at the strength with which she pulled him to his feet.
"You're a lot stronger than you look."
She laughed, the first genuine sound of amusement he'd heard from her. "Probably comes from spending the war lifting men twice my size."
"Anders said you were a nurse. Are you planning to continue nursing now that the war is over?" Her smile disappeared. "I hope not. I've seen enough misery to last me the rest of my life."
He nodded. After witnessing the blood bath at Dieppe, he knew exactly what she meant.
"How far is it to the house?" she asked.
Erik leaned on his cane. "Not far. Wait. You've got dried leaves stuck in your hair."
He pulled the offending leaves from her hair, letting his hand linger on the silky tresses. She looked up at him, her dark brown eyes huge and round. But she didn't move or stop him from touching her. With her porcelain skin and fine bone structure, she looked like a delicate English rose, yet he detected a strength in her that would put any man to shame.
"We should go," she whispered.
Erik dropped his hand. What was he doing? This beautiful English rose was still in love with his brother. His handsome, fit, unscarred brother. She didn't want him.
He'd do well to remember that. He'd already been rejected by one beautiful English girl because of his scars. Another rejection would be more than he could bear.
You can reach Jana at her website www.janarichards.net.
http://ryshiakennie.com
https://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
July 6, 2012
A Book, A Prize and an Author
Stop by July 11 when I'll be hosting author Jana Richards and her latest release, Home Fires. Jana is giving away a $25 gift certificate to one lucky commenter through the course of her tour.
It's been a crazy time these last few weeks. Seems while I was hunkered down in my writing bunker trying to get one story ready to go out the door while another one demanded my attention. And to add to that, family calamities of one type or another had me hopping. Now, with everyone and everything settled, I keep reminding myself that bad luck runs in threes. Problem is, I think this time that bout of luck ran just a little over the three. Not sure what that means. What I do know is that I'm not alone in being deluged from time to time. If I was, than that old saying "It Never Rains But It Pours" would never have been born.
And you - does luck fall to the numbers or is it really much more random than that?
Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.com
http://ryshiakennie.com
https://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
June 15, 2012
You Want Me To Wear What!?
I gave up dance at the age of seven for good reason. I mean really who wants to go around in a pink leotard with rabbit ears on their head. I don't care now if you're only seven and I didn't care then. Of course then my reason for quitting dance had nothing to do with the slightly off the wall costume and more to do with my belief that I was a tap dancer not a baton twirler. I quit right after I learned that twirling with my left hand, well it, like the bunny suit, just wasn't happening. So that was it for me and dance lessons until just a few days ago.
After emerging from over a month of revisions on two stories I was invited by a friend to participate in a Zumba class. Exercise sounded like a good thing so I washed up my walking runners, making them fit for indoor use and headed off. Note to self: dry runners thoroughly before putting them on feet. So with slightly damp runners, an off-the-shelf bottle of water rather than a thermo-lined container of water, and dress that screamed I was not a regular - ancient yoga pants and a souvenir t-shirt from the Great Wall of China, I lined up with the others curious to see what this was all about.
The music started - yes music! This was dance, dance with a latin flavour. Okay, A) latin music wasn't covered in bunny hop baton 101. B) did I mention I quit dance all those years ago? Not that I can't dance, I can. I danced my way through the nightclub phase of my early twenties and even through an Octoberfest or two. I'm just not saying how well I danced my way through these events - passable I'll say, no one was going to throw me off the dance floor but Fred Astaire, even if he were still around, wasn't going to come calling.
So gamely I sashayed left and sashayed right, left then right then forward and back, right then left - no wait - wasn't that right or maybe that was forward or... I struggle for a few seconds to orientate myself, or maybe just to get a break. I'm hot and thirsty - this is hard work! On the upside I'm keeping up, in my own transposed version of what the instructor is demonstrating. And you know - perfectionism aside - it was fun!
So I'm back to my office space and it's fantastic. I can't believe all the hard work that went into making that "junked up space" into a real office. It's a little barren right now but it's new and fresh and ready to go. Without decor of any kind, it's not perfect but like the stories still waiting further revisions and getting into shape with the exercise class - it's all a work in progress.
But all the inspiration you'll ever need isn't in a pair of new runners (even hot pink or lime with a swizzle stick) or in the most beautiful office space in the world. The motivation is inside you.
What's motivated you lately?
Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.com
http://ryshiakennie.com
https://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
After emerging from over a month of revisions on two stories I was invited by a friend to participate in a Zumba class. Exercise sounded like a good thing so I washed up my walking runners, making them fit for indoor use and headed off. Note to self: dry runners thoroughly before putting them on feet. So with slightly damp runners, an off-the-shelf bottle of water rather than a thermo-lined container of water, and dress that screamed I was not a regular - ancient yoga pants and a souvenir t-shirt from the Great Wall of China, I lined up with the others curious to see what this was all about.
The music started - yes music! This was dance, dance with a latin flavour. Okay, A) latin music wasn't covered in bunny hop baton 101. B) did I mention I quit dance all those years ago? Not that I can't dance, I can. I danced my way through the nightclub phase of my early twenties and even through an Octoberfest or two. I'm just not saying how well I danced my way through these events - passable I'll say, no one was going to throw me off the dance floor but Fred Astaire, even if he were still around, wasn't going to come calling.
So gamely I sashayed left and sashayed right, left then right then forward and back, right then left - no wait - wasn't that right or maybe that was forward or... I struggle for a few seconds to orientate myself, or maybe just to get a break. I'm hot and thirsty - this is hard work! On the upside I'm keeping up, in my own transposed version of what the instructor is demonstrating. And you know - perfectionism aside - it was fun!
So I'm back to my office space and it's fantastic. I can't believe all the hard work that went into making that "junked up space" into a real office. It's a little barren right now but it's new and fresh and ready to go. Without decor of any kind, it's not perfect but like the stories still waiting further revisions and getting into shape with the exercise class - it's all a work in progress.
But all the inspiration you'll ever need isn't in a pair of new runners (even hot pink or lime with a swizzle stick) or in the most beautiful office space in the world. The motivation is inside you.
What's motivated you lately?
Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.com
http://ryshiakennie.com
https://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
June 3, 2012
Stories Are Like Silly Putty - Life, Not So Much
We know one needs to be able to bounce to survive the ups and downs of life. But sometimes even a good bounce isn't enough to ward off disaster.
A broken tee - not quite a broken ear.
"Oh my God, what did you do?" Is not the first sentence one wants to hear from the doctor examining an injury. But that's what I heard the other day. Good thing I could still hear for while doing yard work and moving the wheelbarrow, I backed into something, tripped and came straight down on the logs that border the garden bed. I landed on my ear which let me say, kind of stuns you. Luckily, you don't usually get a concussion when you hit your ear at that angle. That was the good news.
What you can do is break the cartilage on the outside shell of your ear, and that can take more stitches than the last injury that sliced your hand.
So my ear is not at all like silly putty or even elastic for that matter. Who would have thought? But it's behind me now. The stitches out yesterday. So ears aren't too flexible but you know what - fiction is.
The last few weeks I'd crawled into that revision cave. You know the place where you hunker down to fix what's wrong with the current story and don't emerge until days later. Not literally but bad enough that any hours at the computer are relegated to working on the story, after long hours looking at the screen all you want to do is go out and see if the sun still shines. So online I disappeared approaching no one unless they approached me. What can I say, revising is tiring. Not like the strings of a fresh story - revisions have more of that urgency to get it done and move on.
But back to the title and silly putty - fiction is elastic. The more one pokes holes the more solid it seems to become. It's been ripped and torn but never broken for at it's heart it really is the same story. So now it's off to send the latest revisions out. All better and all done without the benefit of stitches or dressings.
So even though some things in life aren't too elastic - my ear for instance, other things are, like the recent plans this weekend to get together with a friend. Somehow that never happened. Instead a whole series of unexpected events happened and my weekend was fun and completely not as I'd planned. So maybe the title might have to be changed. Life like fiction...sometimes you just have to bounce. Or...?
Any silly putty in your life lately?
Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.com
http://ryshiakennie.com
https://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
A broken tee - not quite a broken ear.
"Oh my God, what did you do?" Is not the first sentence one wants to hear from the doctor examining an injury. But that's what I heard the other day. Good thing I could still hear for while doing yard work and moving the wheelbarrow, I backed into something, tripped and came straight down on the logs that border the garden bed. I landed on my ear which let me say, kind of stuns you. Luckily, you don't usually get a concussion when you hit your ear at that angle. That was the good news.
What you can do is break the cartilage on the outside shell of your ear, and that can take more stitches than the last injury that sliced your hand.
So my ear is not at all like silly putty or even elastic for that matter. Who would have thought? But it's behind me now. The stitches out yesterday. So ears aren't too flexible but you know what - fiction is.
The last few weeks I'd crawled into that revision cave. You know the place where you hunker down to fix what's wrong with the current story and don't emerge until days later. Not literally but bad enough that any hours at the computer are relegated to working on the story, after long hours looking at the screen all you want to do is go out and see if the sun still shines. So online I disappeared approaching no one unless they approached me. What can I say, revising is tiring. Not like the strings of a fresh story - revisions have more of that urgency to get it done and move on.
But back to the title and silly putty - fiction is elastic. The more one pokes holes the more solid it seems to become. It's been ripped and torn but never broken for at it's heart it really is the same story. So now it's off to send the latest revisions out. All better and all done without the benefit of stitches or dressings.
So even though some things in life aren't too elastic - my ear for instance, other things are, like the recent plans this weekend to get together with a friend. Somehow that never happened. Instead a whole series of unexpected events happened and my weekend was fun and completely not as I'd planned. So maybe the title might have to be changed. Life like fiction...sometimes you just have to bounce. Or...?
Any silly putty in your life lately?
Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.com
http://ryshiakennie.com
https://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
May 13, 2012
Winner of Homefront Hero
So the draw has been made - random as usual, and the winner of a copy of Allie Pleiter's latest release "Homefront Hero" is - insert drum roll here - or just some random fireworks...
VICKI!
Congrats Vicki!
Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.com
http://ryshiakennie.com
https://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
May 7, 2012
Homefront Hero - A New Release by Allie Pleiter
Spring is here and with it a new release by Allie Pleiter. Today
Allie is here to talk about her latest release, HOMEFRONT HERO and give out a copy to one lucky commenter (print if you're in the continental USA and e-copy if you're elsewhere).
An avid knitter, coffee junkie, and devoted chocoholic, Allie Pleiter writes both fiction and non-fiction. The enthusiastic but slightly untidy mother of two, Allie spends her days writing books, buying yarn, and finding new ways to avoid housework. Allie hails from Connecticut, moved to the midwest to attend Northwestern University, and currently lives outside Chicago, Illinois. The "dare from a friend" to begin writing has produced two parenting books, fourteen novels and various national speaking engagements on faith, women's issues, and writing.
So as Allie was here earlier this year with her release FALLING FOR THE FIREMAN and has already answered my favourite question that begins with a trip and ends with - Life hasn't been quite the same since... ,
I came up with a number of alternatives and Allie was ambitious enough
to tackle them all.
Welcome Allie!
Take us on a journey to that era of WWI and tell us a story your research uncovered that most intrigued you:
Things started when I began wandering through military museums looking for that one thread to pluck and pull. That's the way stories come together for me--I find one little detail or object and follow that trail to another, and so on. I found the tale of a Charleston soldier who climbed out on the stay-wires of his dirigible over France and saved the crew. The museum displayed his leather flight helmet and the medal of honor he received for his bravery. That got me thinking about what it would be like to be hanging miles above the ocean trying to save your own skin and the lives of those around you. What would that do to a man? What if the medal represented something completely different to him than what the bestowers intended? None of this is the actual historical facts, it's just where my imagination took me as I stared at the helmet.
What unique and interesting paths your research may have taken you on:
Like most of my stories, this one started out as one thing and quickly became something completely different. It started out as a Charleston story of the homefront during World War I. It became more about the Army Base in Columbia (about 100 miles away) and the challenges brought there by the Spanish Influenza epidemic toward the end of the war. I learned that the university had been locked down in quarantine during the scare, and that seemed like a great place to bring characters. Researching this book took me by chance to Jackson Army Base during the 10th anniversary commemoration of 9/11, which was a tremendously moving experience for me.
What real life story prompted you to create your fictional characters?
Other than the airman's story above, it was the "Knit Your Bit" posters for the Red Cross socks for soldiers campaign that caught my eye. Being a serious knitter myself, I took this as an invitation to bring my love of yarn and needles into the story. When I read a detail (somewhere, I can't even find where) about the press to get boys involved because women and girls still weren't enough to meet the need, my brain fused the facts into the plot that became HOMEFRONT HERO. The campaign in the book never really took place, but if I'd been around during WWI, it's probably a stunt I would have tried.
Blurb from Homefront Hero:
Dashing and valiantly wounded, Captain John Gallows could have stepped straight out of an army recruitment poster. Leanne Sample can't help being impressed--although the lovely Red Cross nurse tries to hide it. She knows better than to get attached to the daring captain who is only home to heal and help rally support for the war's final push. As soon as he's well enough, he'll rush back to Europe, back to war--and far away from South Carolina and Leanne. But when an epidemic strikes close to home, John comes to realize what it truly means to be a hero--Leanne's hero.
Excerpt from Homefront Hero:
Here's a glimpse of their first meeting. Leanne and her nurse friend Ida are staring at a poster lauding Captain Gallow's next rally appearance:
"'Hear the daring exploits of Army Captain John Gallows," Ida read aloud. "Thrill to the tale of how he saved lives at the risk of his own.' Well where I come from gallows is something to be feared."
Leanne could only laugh. Some days Ida sounded as if West Virginia were the wild, wild West. "Oh, that might still be true here. The Gallowes are a very formidable Charleston family."
"Have you met them?"
"I've not had the pleasure, but I believe our fathers know each other back in Charleston. A fine family going back for generations."
Ida leaned back and crossed her arms while eying the dashing photograph of Captain Gallows that illustrated the announcement. "Fine indeed. He's certainly handsome enough." She adjusted her stiff white apron as if primping for the photograph's admiration. Ida did like to be admired, especially by gallant army officers. "I can't think of a better way to spend our first free evening off base. Perhaps he'll let me sketch him."
"Why is it you want to sketch every handsome man you meet?" Leanne teased. Already she could see it might prove hard to keep her artistically inclined roommate focused on her duties. Ida was a free spirit if there ever was one, and while she took her nursing very seriously, her adventurous nature already pulled her too often away from her tasks.
"I'd be delighted to sit for you," came a deep voice behind them. "Especially if you are so partial to handsome war heroes."
Ida and Leanne spun on their heels to find the very man depicted in the photograph. Complete with the dashing smile. Even out of his dress uniform--for he wore a coat, but not one as fancy or as full of medals as the one in the photograph--he was every bit the U.S. Army poster-boy hero. His dark hair just barely contained itself in its slick comb-back underneath his cap. He carried himself with unmistakably military command--Leanne suspected she'd have known he was an officer even in civilian clothes. He certainly was very sure of himself--a long moment passed before Leanne even noticed he leaned jauntily on a cane.
Ida planted one hand on her hip. "Well--" her voice grew silky "--no one can fault you for an excess of modesty. Still my daddy always said a healthy ego was a heroic trait, so I suppose I can let it slide, Captain Gallows." She drew out her pronunciation of his name with a relish that made Leanne flush.
Captain Gallows was evidently all-to-accustomed to such attentions, for he merely widened his dashing smile and gave a short bow to each of them. "How do you do?" He pointed to the sign. "Say you'll attend tonight's event, and my fears of facing an audience full of dull-faced students will be put to rest."
"Are you one of the four Minute Men, then?" Leanne asked. Her father had been asked to serve on the nationally launched volunteer speakers board, called "Four Minute Men" for the prescribed length of their speeches, but Papa had declined. Still, from the superlatives on his bill, Captain Gallows could go on for four hours and still hold his audience captive.
"The best. They give me as long as I want. They tell me I'm enthralling."
"I have no doubt they do. I'm Ida Lee Landway, and this is my friend Leanne Sample. We're just joining the nursing staff at the base hospital."
The captain tipped his hat. "How fortunate for our boys in the wards, Miss Landway, Miss Sample. I'm delighted to meet you. Tell me what I can say to convince you to come to the rally."
"Oh, it won't take much," Ida cooed.
"We were just on our way over to town early and already planning to attend," Leanne corrected. "No persuasion will be required." He certainly seemed a cocky sort, this Captain Gallows.
"I'm not so sure," he replied with a disarming grin. "I was on campus this morning and one of the students told me she would come, but she would bring her knitting. Not the kind of response I'm used to, I must say. I'm trying to see it as a patriotic act, not an expectation of my inability to fascinate."
Visit Allie at her website at www.alliepleiter.com or at her knitting blog www.DestiKNITions.blogspot.com.
Don't forget to leave a comment, a question or just an observation and you'll be entered to win a copy of HOMEFRONT HERO.
Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.com http://ryshiakennie.com
https://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
An avid knitter, coffee junkie, and devoted chocoholic, Allie Pleiter writes both fiction and non-fiction. The enthusiastic but slightly untidy mother of two, Allie spends her days writing books, buying yarn, and finding new ways to avoid housework. Allie hails from Connecticut, moved to the midwest to attend Northwestern University, and currently lives outside Chicago, Illinois. The "dare from a friend" to begin writing has produced two parenting books, fourteen novels and various national speaking engagements on faith, women's issues, and writing. So as Allie was here earlier this year with her release FALLING FOR THE FIREMAN and has already answered my favourite question that begins with a trip and ends with - Life hasn't been quite the same since... ,
I came up with a number of alternatives and Allie was ambitious enough
to tackle them all.
Welcome Allie!
Take us on a journey to that era of WWI and tell us a story your research uncovered that most intrigued you:
Things started when I began wandering through military museums looking for that one thread to pluck and pull. That's the way stories come together for me--I find one little detail or object and follow that trail to another, and so on. I found the tale of a Charleston soldier who climbed out on the stay-wires of his dirigible over France and saved the crew. The museum displayed his leather flight helmet and the medal of honor he received for his bravery. That got me thinking about what it would be like to be hanging miles above the ocean trying to save your own skin and the lives of those around you. What would that do to a man? What if the medal represented something completely different to him than what the bestowers intended? None of this is the actual historical facts, it's just where my imagination took me as I stared at the helmet.
What unique and interesting paths your research may have taken you on:
Like most of my stories, this one started out as one thing and quickly became something completely different. It started out as a Charleston story of the homefront during World War I. It became more about the Army Base in Columbia (about 100 miles away) and the challenges brought there by the Spanish Influenza epidemic toward the end of the war. I learned that the university had been locked down in quarantine during the scare, and that seemed like a great place to bring characters. Researching this book took me by chance to Jackson Army Base during the 10th anniversary commemoration of 9/11, which was a tremendously moving experience for me.
What real life story prompted you to create your fictional characters?
Other than the airman's story above, it was the "Knit Your Bit" posters for the Red Cross socks for soldiers campaign that caught my eye. Being a serious knitter myself, I took this as an invitation to bring my love of yarn and needles into the story. When I read a detail (somewhere, I can't even find where) about the press to get boys involved because women and girls still weren't enough to meet the need, my brain fused the facts into the plot that became HOMEFRONT HERO. The campaign in the book never really took place, but if I'd been around during WWI, it's probably a stunt I would have tried.
Blurb from Homefront Hero:
Dashing and valiantly wounded, Captain John Gallows could have stepped straight out of an army recruitment poster. Leanne Sample can't help being impressed--although the lovely Red Cross nurse tries to hide it. She knows better than to get attached to the daring captain who is only home to heal and help rally support for the war's final push. As soon as he's well enough, he'll rush back to Europe, back to war--and far away from South Carolina and Leanne. But when an epidemic strikes close to home, John comes to realize what it truly means to be a hero--Leanne's hero.
Excerpt from Homefront Hero:
Here's a glimpse of their first meeting. Leanne and her nurse friend Ida are staring at a poster lauding Captain Gallow's next rally appearance:
"'Hear the daring exploits of Army Captain John Gallows," Ida read aloud. "Thrill to the tale of how he saved lives at the risk of his own.' Well where I come from gallows is something to be feared."
Leanne could only laugh. Some days Ida sounded as if West Virginia were the wild, wild West. "Oh, that might still be true here. The Gallowes are a very formidable Charleston family."
"Have you met them?"
"I've not had the pleasure, but I believe our fathers know each other back in Charleston. A fine family going back for generations."
Ida leaned back and crossed her arms while eying the dashing photograph of Captain Gallows that illustrated the announcement. "Fine indeed. He's certainly handsome enough." She adjusted her stiff white apron as if primping for the photograph's admiration. Ida did like to be admired, especially by gallant army officers. "I can't think of a better way to spend our first free evening off base. Perhaps he'll let me sketch him."
"Why is it you want to sketch every handsome man you meet?" Leanne teased. Already she could see it might prove hard to keep her artistically inclined roommate focused on her duties. Ida was a free spirit if there ever was one, and while she took her nursing very seriously, her adventurous nature already pulled her too often away from her tasks.
"I'd be delighted to sit for you," came a deep voice behind them. "Especially if you are so partial to handsome war heroes."
Ida and Leanne spun on their heels to find the very man depicted in the photograph. Complete with the dashing smile. Even out of his dress uniform--for he wore a coat, but not one as fancy or as full of medals as the one in the photograph--he was every bit the U.S. Army poster-boy hero. His dark hair just barely contained itself in its slick comb-back underneath his cap. He carried himself with unmistakably military command--Leanne suspected she'd have known he was an officer even in civilian clothes. He certainly was very sure of himself--a long moment passed before Leanne even noticed he leaned jauntily on a cane.
Ida planted one hand on her hip. "Well--" her voice grew silky "--no one can fault you for an excess of modesty. Still my daddy always said a healthy ego was a heroic trait, so I suppose I can let it slide, Captain Gallows." She drew out her pronunciation of his name with a relish that made Leanne flush.
Captain Gallows was evidently all-to-accustomed to such attentions, for he merely widened his dashing smile and gave a short bow to each of them. "How do you do?" He pointed to the sign. "Say you'll attend tonight's event, and my fears of facing an audience full of dull-faced students will be put to rest."
"Are you one of the four Minute Men, then?" Leanne asked. Her father had been asked to serve on the nationally launched volunteer speakers board, called "Four Minute Men" for the prescribed length of their speeches, but Papa had declined. Still, from the superlatives on his bill, Captain Gallows could go on for four hours and still hold his audience captive.
"The best. They give me as long as I want. They tell me I'm enthralling."
"I have no doubt they do. I'm Ida Lee Landway, and this is my friend Leanne Sample. We're just joining the nursing staff at the base hospital."
The captain tipped his hat. "How fortunate for our boys in the wards, Miss Landway, Miss Sample. I'm delighted to meet you. Tell me what I can say to convince you to come to the rally."
"Oh, it won't take much," Ida cooed.
"We were just on our way over to town early and already planning to attend," Leanne corrected. "No persuasion will be required." He certainly seemed a cocky sort, this Captain Gallows.
"I'm not so sure," he replied with a disarming grin. "I was on campus this morning and one of the students told me she would come, but she would bring her knitting. Not the kind of response I'm used to, I must say. I'm trying to see it as a patriotic act, not an expectation of my inability to fascinate."
Visit Allie at her website at www.alliepleiter.com or at her knitting blog www.DestiKNITions.blogspot.com.
Don't forget to leave a comment, a question or just an observation and you'll be entered to win a copy of HOMEFRONT HERO.
Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.com http://ryshiakennie.com
https://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
May 6, 2012
NFL Draft, Not Quite - This One Is for Writers
So this year I listened to bits of the NFL draft and it's been a revelation. The surprise is really that it is a surprise. I mean I've been married to an NFL junkie for, well we're not going to discuss how many years. The thing is so far I've managed to escape the NFL draft. Maybe it was satellite radio that was my undoing. Our latest vehicle came with a trial run of satellite radio turned conveniently to the NFL. So, I've been listening as I drive from one end of the city to the other to the NFL news. Why don't I change the channel? First I'd have to know what channel - yes, I know I could just hit the pre-selected - okay, okay, leave me alone. It is, what it is. If the radio is on a certain channel once the vehicle is in motion - that's what I listen to or turn off but never change. Now I know a bit more about the teams and even have some opinions on players, few but some, all thanks to those drives across the city to visit my mom and listen to non-stop football talk on the way. I began to think that the NFL draft was rather like waiting for that call from an editor that you've been accepted. Imagine a stadium full of writers picked first or second or even third round waiting for a publisher to pick them up?
Will it be your first choice, your second or... were you even picked at all? No wait, if you make the stadium you're guaranteed a finish and a whole rocket load of hype there after. That's the writers' rule, in this new land of... Okay, so that was fantasy land but it wouldn't be a bad land to visit, just for a while.Reality - On Tuesday, May 8 I'm hosting Allie Pleiter with another new release. That's her second release this year! She was here in February with Falling for the Fireman and I'm thrilled to have her here again. This time it's with her latest release, Homefront Hero. Homefront Hero is a book that looks particularly interesting to me, because of the time period - WWI and because Allie writes some great stories. As part of her stop she's offering a copy of Homefront Hero to one lucky commenter!
Ryshia
www.ryshiakenniehttp://ryshiakennie.com
https://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
April 27, 2012
Because "New York" Is Dragging Their Heels
My original title was "Because New York Will Never Want You" - harsh, I know. But that's what I thought getting published by anything but a traditional publisher was not so long ago. My goals were fairly specific, they still are - write the best story I can and make a career publishing. But it's self-publishing that I'm speaking of and I cringe when I read that original title now, but it's what I thought - then.
Things have changed in the publishing world and by default that has all tumbled down to the lonely world of the writer - even to this writer currently propped on her couch at 6:50 a.m. doing what I do - type. Yes, the publishing world has radically changed, even though I've seen it changing around me it was like I woke up one morning to an all new world. Kind of like that first snow, one minute you're having margaritas on the deck and the next you're foraging through your winter clothes and wading into a world of ear-nipping white.
So now that change is officially here I thought there must be some way it can work for me. I've previously discounted any thoughts of self publishing except maybe for a dog food recipe book but that - really, is another story and one you may not want to hear. I know Rourke, from his curled ball of red fur at my feet, is in no mood to hear that there's thought to sharing those delectable salmon crunch cookies with anyone but him - never mind his Breakfast Over Easy.
Seriously, I'm contemplating what self-publishing means - not as a career but as the path for one story. I know it doesn't guarantee any level of success and marketing comes with its own set of challenges. The self-publishing market is awash with books that should never have been published for one reason or another but its also populated by some excellent reads too. The Saskatchewan Writers Guild seems to have a good number of authors who are
creating careers as self published authors, or in some cases, a
combination of traditional and self-published. That opened my eyes to
opportunities. For me it's not a career route but it's definitely a
possibility as part of the journey.
Besides, it's a new world and it might be nice to dive into that sea of change just - well, to test it out and because I have a story that's hit the reject button with every publisher it fit both medium and large. I didn't go to small press - I considered it and then I rejected that idea. I know what that entails - I've been there before.
I'll always have a soft spot for the small press world and I can't say I won't visit again with another story suited more to that world than any other. Small press is a great experience, totally hands on, that delivers a fantastic product - just take a look at those covers. From acceptance to publication, I can't imagine a better experience. And, of course, they were my first. That OMG moment when you do the long awaited little jig and realize that someone has finally said yes, that moment when you realize you are going to be a published author, for me, that all belongs to the world of the small press. I'd love to go there again - wait, I did. But a third time, for all the joy of publication, of readers discovering you and continuing the journey with another book - there's downsides too. And at this point in my career, maybe this is a chance to take matters into my own hands and take a different look at publication and marketing.
But back to the story in question. It's a tale of suspense and romance in the jungles of Borneo. It's a good story, at least I think so - I sure fought to make it one of the best - one I want to share. Those that have read it enjoyed it, even called it a favourite - or at least they told me so. One publisher hinted that it just wasn't marketable in this climate. Okay, what does that mean? Darn it - I want to give this story a chance. Stories are meant to be read. So while I still want the traditional route, maybe this time I'll consider an alternative. It's an experiment that is still under consideration.
And BTW - should "New York" come calling, I have no qualms about dancing that jig once again.
Any thoughts of stepping out of your "norm" this week?
Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.comhttp://ryshiakennie.com
https://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
Things have changed in the publishing world and by default that has all tumbled down to the lonely world of the writer - even to this writer currently propped on her couch at 6:50 a.m. doing what I do - type. Yes, the publishing world has radically changed, even though I've seen it changing around me it was like I woke up one morning to an all new world. Kind of like that first snow, one minute you're having margaritas on the deck and the next you're foraging through your winter clothes and wading into a world of ear-nipping white.
So now that change is officially here I thought there must be some way it can work for me. I've previously discounted any thoughts of self publishing except maybe for a dog food recipe book but that - really, is another story and one you may not want to hear. I know Rourke, from his curled ball of red fur at my feet, is in no mood to hear that there's thought to sharing those delectable salmon crunch cookies with anyone but him - never mind his Breakfast Over Easy.
Seriously, I'm contemplating what self-publishing means - not as a career but as the path for one story. I know it doesn't guarantee any level of success and marketing comes with its own set of challenges. The self-publishing market is awash with books that should never have been published for one reason or another but its also populated by some excellent reads too. The Saskatchewan Writers Guild seems to have a good number of authors who arecreating careers as self published authors, or in some cases, a
combination of traditional and self-published. That opened my eyes to
opportunities. For me it's not a career route but it's definitely a
possibility as part of the journey.
Besides, it's a new world and it might be nice to dive into that sea of change just - well, to test it out and because I have a story that's hit the reject button with every publisher it fit both medium and large. I didn't go to small press - I considered it and then I rejected that idea. I know what that entails - I've been there before.
I'll always have a soft spot for the small press world and I can't say I won't visit again with another story suited more to that world than any other. Small press is a great experience, totally hands on, that delivers a fantastic product - just take a look at those covers. From acceptance to publication, I can't imagine a better experience. And, of course, they were my first. That OMG moment when you do the long awaited little jig and realize that someone has finally said yes, that moment when you realize you are going to be a published author, for me, that all belongs to the world of the small press. I'd love to go there again - wait, I did. But a third time, for all the joy of publication, of readers discovering you and continuing the journey with another book - there's downsides too. And at this point in my career, maybe this is a chance to take matters into my own hands and take a different look at publication and marketing. But back to the story in question. It's a tale of suspense and romance in the jungles of Borneo. It's a good story, at least I think so - I sure fought to make it one of the best - one I want to share. Those that have read it enjoyed it, even called it a favourite - or at least they told me so. One publisher hinted that it just wasn't marketable in this climate. Okay, what does that mean? Darn it - I want to give this story a chance. Stories are meant to be read. So while I still want the traditional route, maybe this time I'll consider an alternative. It's an experiment that is still under consideration.
And BTW - should "New York" come calling, I have no qualms about dancing that jig once again.
Any thoughts of stepping out of your "norm" this week?
Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.comhttp://ryshiakennie.com
https://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
April 11, 2012
On Tour With - The Reason Is You - Sharla Lovelace
Today I'm excited to welcome Sharla Lovelace with her new release "The Reason Is You." In addition to meeting the author and discovering another fascinating read, there's a chance to win a prize. Sharla will be giving away a $20 gift certificate from either Amazon or Barnes and Noble to one lucky commenter over the course of her book tour. So comment away, have a great day and good luck!
So let's lead things off with the question who is Sharla besides the author of a book with what appears to be a very intriguing ghost? Here's her bio:
Sharla once hunted for crab in a Honduran jungle, and explored an unknown cave on her belly through a rabbit hole. Not in the same night.
Now, she lives in Southeast Texas by the Neches River with her family, an old lady dog, and 19 cockatiels. If you wonder how she writes with all that noise--the birds actually have their own house outside. THE REASON IS YOU is her debut novel.
When she's not writing, doing the day job, or doing the family thing, she's stalking her Twitter feed.
And now I'm turning it over to Sharla who starts it off by finishing this sentence: Life hasn't been quite the same since.... The hitch is that the story must be about a trip. But that trip can be anything from a journey around the world to a jaunt to the corner store.
Welcome Sharla Life Hasn't Been Quite The Same Since...
Thanks for having me!
I'm not a big traveler. I mean, I'd like to be, I'd like to be toodling around in a giant Winnebago or flying off to exotic locales like ones I read about. But my very blue collar world doesn't include scenarios like that. I've only really been on a few big trips in my life.
A big vacation when I was in the fourth grade brought me to the Grand Canyon and all up the West Coast. I've been scuba diving in Grand Cayman and Cozumel and Honduras. I've been to London. I've been skiing to Taos, NM. All of those things were in my twenties. And I went to Vegas for my honeymoon. That about sums up my traveling portfolio.
But one trip wasn't a vacation, stands out in my head as life altering.
When my daughter was five, her dad and I called it quits. We were living in Colorado at the time, a beautiful, majestic place. Also rivaling California for expensive living. I couldn't afford to live there on my own, and I didn't want to. It was time to move back home. To Texas. To family.
The small town I was going back to would be very different from what I was leaving behind. I knew that. I knew I was making the conscious choice to raise my daughter in an entirely different lifestyle. She would be a blue-collar Texas girl, like I was. So my dad and my brother rented a uHaul truck and drove the 2-day stretch to come help to pack up everything I owned, and we left.
I remember looking in the rearview mirror with tears in my eyes as I watched the big rock formation in Castle Rock, Colorado disappear around a bend. I knew I'd never be back. I felt the loss as I drove through the mountain passes and little picturesque towns. I looked at my daughter, coloring in a Barbie coloring book, who really wasn't old enough to register what she was leaving behind, and both celebrated that fact and regretted it.
I got to spend precious moments with my dad, that I didn't really realize was precious at the time. We stopped and ate at little mom and pop diners along the way, and stayed at the tiniest roach motel I've ever seen...lol... I remember pulling up finally, at the end of the day, into my mother's driveway. Thinking: "I'm finally home" and "Oh my God, what have I done?" at the very same time. I had no house, no job, no security for my daughter other than a support system of family. I got us there two weeks before Kindergarten started, so she'd start in one place and not have to move in the middle.
One month later, I found a rent house and a job in the very same day. And five years later my dad died...with my mom to follow eight months after that. My choice gave my daughter a chance to know them, hang out with them almost daily. She has deep rooted memories that I wish could have lasted longer but at least they are there. She's 17 now, and remembers certain activities with them vividly.
I still miss Colorado sometimes, but I've been here for twelve years now, have remarried into a wonderful family and have fully reinstated my Texas drawl and attitude. It's home again.
Thanks for letting me come by!
Hope you all enjoy the book!
Sharla "The Reason is You" - Blurb:In the small town of Bethany, Dani Shane never fit in. Being different pushed her to the fringes of society, and even leaving town for two decades didn't stop the talk. Now, with her sixteen-year-old daughter Riley in tow, Dani is back in Bethany looking for a fresh start. Too bad her plans for staying under the radar are about to be thrown out the window.
Mischievous and sexy, Dani's old friend Alex still has the power to rock her world, but there's a big obstacle standing in their way--Alex has been dead for forty years. With a ghost popping up at inopportune moments and sparking conversations with her teenage daughter, Dani scrambles to find solid ground and get a grip--both on her sanity and her heart.
Excerpt from "The Reason Is You":
Preface: Dani and her teenage daughter, Riley have arrived back in Dani's hometown, and one of the first things Dani has to deal with is catching her daughter talking to her old best friend Alex in the front yard. Alex is a ghost...
My head said to walk forward, but my feet went numb. Then he looked my direction, and suddenly I was head-to-toe buzz with blood rushing in my ears. I took a deep breath and attempted normal as I made it down the steps without tripping.
Riley saw Alex. Riley wasn't supposed to see people like Alex.
She had her usual folded-arms-with-one-hip-jutted stance, looking annoyed as hell, while Bojangles circled the yard in a frenzy with his nose to the ground. Alex slowly took off his glasses and locked his blue eyes in on mine with that arrogant little smile of his. I felt heat radiate from every pore.
"Dani," he said, low and smooth, and all the breath left me. "My God, look at you."
I opened my mouth to say the same thing, that after twenty-plus years he still looked exactly the same, hot enough to melt my shoes. But then the mommy gene stood up and waved and I remembered Riley was there.
He laughed, a deep throaty sound, as he pointed at Riley.
"I knew it had to be."
A nervous noise squawked from my mouth. Nothing profound like I always imagined it would be.
"The eyes were the first clue," he said with a wink.
Riley frowned, her expression a mix of disgust and wariness.
"God, you know this perv? He was here on the car watching me and won't tell me who the hell he is."
He smirked. "The sweet, gentle nature was the clincher."
Sharla can be found at her website: www.sharlalovelace.com, on Facebook, on Twitter, and on Goodreads.
Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.comhttp://ryshiakennie.com
https://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
So let's lead things off with the question who is Sharla besides the author of a book with what appears to be a very intriguing ghost? Here's her bio:
Sharla once hunted for crab in a Honduran jungle, and explored an unknown cave on her belly through a rabbit hole. Not in the same night.
Now, she lives in Southeast Texas by the Neches River with her family, an old lady dog, and 19 cockatiels. If you wonder how she writes with all that noise--the birds actually have their own house outside. THE REASON IS YOU is her debut novel.When she's not writing, doing the day job, or doing the family thing, she's stalking her Twitter feed.
And now I'm turning it over to Sharla who starts it off by finishing this sentence: Life hasn't been quite the same since.... The hitch is that the story must be about a trip. But that trip can be anything from a journey around the world to a jaunt to the corner store.
Welcome Sharla Life Hasn't Been Quite The Same Since...
Thanks for having me!
I'm not a big traveler. I mean, I'd like to be, I'd like to be toodling around in a giant Winnebago or flying off to exotic locales like ones I read about. But my very blue collar world doesn't include scenarios like that. I've only really been on a few big trips in my life.
A big vacation when I was in the fourth grade brought me to the Grand Canyon and all up the West Coast. I've been scuba diving in Grand Cayman and Cozumel and Honduras. I've been to London. I've been skiing to Taos, NM. All of those things were in my twenties. And I went to Vegas for my honeymoon. That about sums up my traveling portfolio.
But one trip wasn't a vacation, stands out in my head as life altering.
When my daughter was five, her dad and I called it quits. We were living in Colorado at the time, a beautiful, majestic place. Also rivaling California for expensive living. I couldn't afford to live there on my own, and I didn't want to. It was time to move back home. To Texas. To family.
The small town I was going back to would be very different from what I was leaving behind. I knew that. I knew I was making the conscious choice to raise my daughter in an entirely different lifestyle. She would be a blue-collar Texas girl, like I was. So my dad and my brother rented a uHaul truck and drove the 2-day stretch to come help to pack up everything I owned, and we left.
I remember looking in the rearview mirror with tears in my eyes as I watched the big rock formation in Castle Rock, Colorado disappear around a bend. I knew I'd never be back. I felt the loss as I drove through the mountain passes and little picturesque towns. I looked at my daughter, coloring in a Barbie coloring book, who really wasn't old enough to register what she was leaving behind, and both celebrated that fact and regretted it.
I got to spend precious moments with my dad, that I didn't really realize was precious at the time. We stopped and ate at little mom and pop diners along the way, and stayed at the tiniest roach motel I've ever seen...lol... I remember pulling up finally, at the end of the day, into my mother's driveway. Thinking: "I'm finally home" and "Oh my God, what have I done?" at the very same time. I had no house, no job, no security for my daughter other than a support system of family. I got us there two weeks before Kindergarten started, so she'd start in one place and not have to move in the middle.
One month later, I found a rent house and a job in the very same day. And five years later my dad died...with my mom to follow eight months after that. My choice gave my daughter a chance to know them, hang out with them almost daily. She has deep rooted memories that I wish could have lasted longer but at least they are there. She's 17 now, and remembers certain activities with them vividly.
I still miss Colorado sometimes, but I've been here for twelve years now, have remarried into a wonderful family and have fully reinstated my Texas drawl and attitude. It's home again. Thanks for letting me come by!
Hope you all enjoy the book!
Sharla "The Reason is You" - Blurb:In the small town of Bethany, Dani Shane never fit in. Being different pushed her to the fringes of society, and even leaving town for two decades didn't stop the talk. Now, with her sixteen-year-old daughter Riley in tow, Dani is back in Bethany looking for a fresh start. Too bad her plans for staying under the radar are about to be thrown out the window.
Mischievous and sexy, Dani's old friend Alex still has the power to rock her world, but there's a big obstacle standing in their way--Alex has been dead for forty years. With a ghost popping up at inopportune moments and sparking conversations with her teenage daughter, Dani scrambles to find solid ground and get a grip--both on her sanity and her heart. Excerpt from "The Reason Is You":
Preface: Dani and her teenage daughter, Riley have arrived back in Dani's hometown, and one of the first things Dani has to deal with is catching her daughter talking to her old best friend Alex in the front yard. Alex is a ghost...
My head said to walk forward, but my feet went numb. Then he looked my direction, and suddenly I was head-to-toe buzz with blood rushing in my ears. I took a deep breath and attempted normal as I made it down the steps without tripping.
Riley saw Alex. Riley wasn't supposed to see people like Alex.
She had her usual folded-arms-with-one-hip-jutted stance, looking annoyed as hell, while Bojangles circled the yard in a frenzy with his nose to the ground. Alex slowly took off his glasses and locked his blue eyes in on mine with that arrogant little smile of his. I felt heat radiate from every pore.
"Dani," he said, low and smooth, and all the breath left me. "My God, look at you."
I opened my mouth to say the same thing, that after twenty-plus years he still looked exactly the same, hot enough to melt my shoes. But then the mommy gene stood up and waved and I remembered Riley was there.
He laughed, a deep throaty sound, as he pointed at Riley.
"I knew it had to be."
A nervous noise squawked from my mouth. Nothing profound like I always imagined it would be.
"The eyes were the first clue," he said with a wink.
Riley frowned, her expression a mix of disgust and wariness.
"God, you know this perv? He was here on the car watching me and won't tell me who the hell he is."
He smirked. "The sweet, gentle nature was the clincher."
Sharla can be found at her website: www.sharlalovelace.com, on Facebook, on Twitter, and on Goodreads.
Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.comhttp://ryshiakennie.com
https://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
Nothing Better Than A New Book!
There's lots of great things in life and one of them is new books!
Tomorrow I'll be hosting author Sharla Lovelace with her recent release - The Reason Is You. I read an excerpt from the book and it's caught my interest. Stop by tomorrow, April 12, to meet Sharla - find out some more about her book and leave a comment or two for a chance to win a prize.
It's all happening here - tomorrow!
Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.com
http://ryshiakennie.com
https://twitter.com/#!/ryshiakennie
