Ryshia Kennie ...The adventure begins today!: Happy St. Patrick's Day

Let’s look forward to these moments when we can celebrate even as the world shares troubling times. Here, on the prairies, the global pandemic only has us beginning shutdowns and voluntary social isolation. Man, that sounds gloomy. But it’s not, not yet - hopefully never. At our house, we’re catching up on episodes of the television series, Lost, and making calls to friends and relatives And,
with the dregs of winter still here, keeping warm. So, it isn’t, and can’t all be doom and gloom. Especially today. It's St. Patrick's Day, a day to celebrate. So have a beer or your favourite beverage and toast another day and up here, the slow demise of winter.

Me, I’m going to celebrate the day with a little Guinness and a contest.

I’ll be drawing two winners for an e-copy of The Tears We Never Cried. Contest ends midnight, March 18, 2020 CST.

Here are the rules:
You have to be a newsletter subscriber. Not one already?

Sign up for my newsletter, The Walkabout, and you're entered. Click below to sign on to not only be entered in the contest but keep up with my world of books:

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Already a subscriber, send me an e-mail (ryshia@ryshiakennie.com) with The Tears in the re: line.

In the meantime, here’s some of what you’ve been missing - an excerpt from The Tears We Never Cried:

The Tears We Never Cried:

Fifteen minutes after mother left, I was outside shoveling like a mad woman. Somehow the activity calmed the despair that seemed to hit me at odd moments, it was like premature grief, and I really didn’t want to grieve for her before she was actually gone.

The shoveling helped. But it was tiring work, even for me and I’m not a small woman. Big-boned, mother always said. Another thing I didn’t get from either of my parents. My father, at least the man I had called father, wasn’t short. He was built reed-slim with bones that weren’t considered enduring.

I was breaking a sweat and the sun was gleaming hot on my neck even as my thumbs began to freeze in my wool gloves. From the corner of my eye I saw a glint and flash that made me look up as the hard snow cracked under the weight of a vehicle. Russ’s SUV was pulling into our driveway and my heart, I hated to admit it even then, did a small skip. I literally didn’t breathe. Instead, anticipation hung in my chest like a raw and aching, or maybe whimpering was more appropriate, beast. The door opened and I recognized the figure getting out. I had known it was him before then.

Russ.

“Hi, Cassie,” he said as he opened the gate like it was normal for him to appear unexpectedly.

I leaned on the shovel and wished I could have ripped the tasseled toque from my head. It was far from my best look. I wished I was dressed slightly better, that I was wearing makeup that ... I stopped such ridiculous thoughts right there. I had more serious things to contemplate.

“What’s wrong?” He took the shovel from my now limp hand and dropped it to the side.

I’m so mixed up. And those words almost came out. I stared at Russ horrified I had come so close to spilling my unwanted emotions at his feet. Despite my best efforts, tears filmed my eyes.

Bless Russ, he never said a word. Instead he just wrapped his arms around me and I burrowed into the depths of his down-filled parka. His parka was slightly damp when I sheepishly pulled away.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tissue.

I blew my nose. Could I be any more unappealing?

I realize that the end of the excerpt might be disturbing in the world's current pandemic alert. But, if you live in the frozen north, you'll know that cold weather can make a healthy person's nose run. And, in Cassie's case, that's exactly what happened.

The Tears We Never Cried:

A mother’s tragic diagnosis.

A daughter’s life on hold.

An ending and a new beginning ...

Cassandra McDowall’s mother has been forgetful for a while, but she never anticipated rapid-onset Alzheimer’s to come out of nowhere and shake their world to its very core.

As Cassie puts her already-lackluster life on hold, her mom’s indomitable will and spirit of adventure prove to be a handful.

And as her mother fades, the two embark on one last adventure—a journey that reveals secrets on the brink of being lost, the joy of foreign sunsets, and love where she hadn’t thought it possible.

Until later.

Dream big and travel safe.

Ryshia

www.ryshiakennie.com