Happy St. Patrick's Day - Win a Book!

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

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Latest release:  The Tears We Never Cried

Michelle Moran and Rebel Queen

From the internationally bestselling author of Nefertiti and Cleopatra's Daughter comes REBEL QUEEN, the breathtaking story of Queen Lakshmi - India's Joan of Arc - who against all odds defied the mighty British invasion to defend her beloved kingdom.  

Enter to win a signed copy at the end of this post!

I'm excited to welcome Michelle Moran and her latest book Rebel Queen which is set in India.  As usual, Michelle has done extensive research in the country and has come back with some interesting stories.  I'll let her take it away from here.
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With every book I write, I discover something about the culture I'm researching which completely blows me away, often because it's so unusual and something I've never encountered before.  In the case of my book, REBEL QUEEN, set in India during the British invasion, the concept of Janam Kundlis struck a chord with me, particularly since Janam Kundlis very nearly played a role in my own life and my marriage to my husband, who is Indian.

Also known as an astrological chart, a Janam Kundli is made by a priest for each child in India.  No one is sure when the concept of a Janam Kundlis came to be, but as Vedic astrology is several thousand years old, it's not surprising that my protagonist's Janam Kundli would have looked similar to my husband's, even though they were born more than a hundred years apart.  A person's Janam

Kundlis includes the details of their birth-time, date, planetary alignments.  It also includes other things which aren't so common in the West, such as that person's probable future career and who they were in their most recent past life (in my husband's case, a yogi!).

Reading a person's natal chart is serious business.  Once a person's Janam Kundli is created, they will keep that document with them for life, producing it when it's time for marriage.  Even today, Janam Kundlis are used to make prospective matches between brides and grooms throughout India, where the majority of marriages are arranged.   And woe betide anyone whose Janam Kundlis declares them to be a manglik, or a bad-luck person.  If that's the case, as it was for the famous Bollywood actress and former Miss World Aishwarya Rai, one of two options are available.  You can either marry another manglik, thus cancelling out your bad-luck status, or you can hire a priest to conduct a variety of ceremonies that will make it possible to marry someone who isn't a manglik like yourself.  This last option, however, is only available if the non-manglik person's family finds the risk acceptable.  In Aishwarya Rai's case, her in-laws obviously felt the "risk" was worth it, and in 2007 she married a tree before she married her husband, thereby cancelling out her bad-luck in this way.

Why a tree?  Well, this was something I very nearly discovered myself when my own Janam Kundli was made.  Apparently, like Aishwarya Rai, I too am probably a manglik, meaning marriage for me would most likely end in the divorce or death of my spouse.  I say probably, because my Janam Kundli was done online.  The effect, however, was very nearly the same.  Major discussions took place as to whether I would need to marry a tree before the wedding could proceed, or whether my Janam Kundli should be discounted since I am not, after all, Indian, and my Janam Kundli hadn't "officially" been made by a priest.

In the end, it was decided that my husband should take the risk and go for it.  I never had to marry a tree or even choose among a variety of clay urns for my groom.  Either option, apparently, is acceptable, as it's believed that a person's manglik dose can be cancelled out if the manglik person's bad luck is spent on the first marriage.  Thus, the bride first marries a clay urn or a tree, then either breaks the clay urn or chops down her tree-husband in order to become a "widow" (in some places, the tree is allowed to survive).  After this, the second marriage is ready to proceed without a hitch.

There are varying interpretations of this ceremony, and even though it didn't end up affecting me, a person's Janam Kundli can alter their destiny, just as I describe in the beginning of REBEL QUEEN.  It's cultural gems like these which make researching historical fiction such a pleasure, and it's these type of details which I try to include in each of my books.  As a writer, my hope is that they pique the reader's interest along the way, and as a reader, they are the sort of facts which help ground me in another place and time.

ENTER TO WIN:

Michelle is giving out a pair of bangles she's brought back from India and a signed hard cover copy of Rebel Queen to one lucky entrant.  The bangles are all unique and won't look exactly like the ones in the picture.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Leave a comment and you're entered to win.  One entry per.   Good luck everyone!