Let's go to the movies.
I just love cartoons and you?
Eva Edwards
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
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From the Dust
I am an historic romance. I was written by Ryshia Kennie and published by Black Lyon Publishing. I am a unique story set in the depression era Canadian province of Saskatchewan. I opened to great reviews. But that aside, this blog is to share my story. It is about the places I visit, where I'm available, what people think about me and most importantly, what my characters are up to and what they really think about love, life and their role in a love story that survives the odds.
I'll let Eva and Tate, and even my creator, speak for themselves now.
I'll let Eva and Tate, and even my creator, speak for themselves now.
Ryshia on the Web
A Book Trailer
Where Can You Find From the Dust
A farm they both claim
The Winters are Long and Hard
No Rain and Plenty of Dust
Is it a Life You'd Choose?
Love can be so...unexpected
Chapter One
Late May 1935,
Qu'Appelle District, Saskatchewan
He died with liquor on his breath and poison in his soul. Doc MacPherson claimed that between the alcohol and the arsenic there were enough chemicals in his body to keep him pickled to the second coming.
It was a terrible way to die. Eva wouldn't wish that on anyone, even him. She shivered. The last twelve hours had been awful. She pulled a bobby pin from her hair, rearranged a stray piece and secured it again. She hadn't reacted well. She knew that. She regretted snapping at the child. She regretted a lot of things. None of them could be undone. Like Mr. Edwards, the time was gone, over. The damage had been done.
"He went sudden. That's a blessing." Hans said abruptly like he could read her thoughts.
Her sigh was short as the wagon took that moment to bounce in a rut. The coffin slammed against the wagon rails. Her hand tightened on the rough wooden seat while the other gripped the child's thin arm. The coffin slid across the wagon box and banged against the other side. The wagon rocked. She jarred against Hans.
"Gee up!" Hans flipped the reins and nudged her over on the wooden seat with his elbow.
She glanced over at her old friend and closest neighbor.
"Hans, I can't thank you--"
"Don't be thanking me, girl. This is the least I can do. Should have been me who hammered that coffin together. You shouldn't have--"
She laid gentle fingers over his large knuckled hand. "You've got enough to do without worrying about me, too."
Hans looked skyward. Tension etched his worn face. "You shouldn't have hammered his coffin together." He clucked at the team. "Unseemly."
She swayed as the wagon rocked. The future looked grim. Fear knotted and twisted in her gut. She'd forgotten to look at the sore on the cow's leg. The thought rose unbidden and battled a litany of other chore-related thoughts building in her sleep-deprived mind. She had spent the early morning hours hammering scrap wood into a coffin for Mr. Edwards. married for four years--in all that time, she had never called him by his first name.
Want to read more?
Late May 1935,
Qu'Appelle District, Saskatchewan
He died with liquor on his breath and poison in his soul. Doc MacPherson claimed that between the alcohol and the arsenic there were enough chemicals in his body to keep him pickled to the second coming.
It was a terrible way to die. Eva wouldn't wish that on anyone, even him. She shivered. The last twelve hours had been awful. She pulled a bobby pin from her hair, rearranged a stray piece and secured it again. She hadn't reacted well. She knew that. She regretted snapping at the child. She regretted a lot of things. None of them could be undone. Like Mr. Edwards, the time was gone, over. The damage had been done.
"He went sudden. That's a blessing." Hans said abruptly like he could read her thoughts.
Her sigh was short as the wagon took that moment to bounce in a rut. The coffin slammed against the wagon rails. Her hand tightened on the rough wooden seat while the other gripped the child's thin arm. The coffin slid across the wagon box and banged against the other side. The wagon rocked. She jarred against Hans.
"Gee up!" Hans flipped the reins and nudged her over on the wooden seat with his elbow.
She glanced over at her old friend and closest neighbor.
"Hans, I can't thank you--"
"Don't be thanking me, girl. This is the least I can do. Should have been me who hammered that coffin together. You shouldn't have--"
She laid gentle fingers over his large knuckled hand. "You've got enough to do without worrying about me, too."
Hans looked skyward. Tension etched his worn face. "You shouldn't have hammered his coffin together." He clucked at the team. "Unseemly."
She swayed as the wagon rocked. The future looked grim. Fear knotted and twisted in her gut. She'd forgotten to look at the sore on the cow's leg. The thought rose unbidden and battled a litany of other chore-related thoughts building in her sleep-deprived mind. She had spent the early morning hours hammering scrap wood into a coffin for Mr. Edwards. married for four years--in all that time, she had never called him by his first name.
Want to read more?
What They're Saying About From the Dust
“The plot was so well written, and the people so endearing that it was impossible to not love this book. " The Romance Studio
Read review at site
I found the cast of supporting characters believable as well, with their small town meddling, for better or worse! I laughed at the well meaning yet misguided charity of the city folk too. This is a charming story with likeable main characters. Tate is a different hero than the usual take-no-prisoners type. It's quite refreshing.Kennie writes beautful descriptions of the prairie. She paints a pretty picture of the wheat fields and surrounding scenery. Within the first pages, a dust storm overtakes our heroes and I could feel the sand stuck in my teeth! Review by Lavender
Read review at site
Simply Romance Reviews
SRR Grade: B+
Ryshia Kennie’s, From The Dust, has all the elements that I love in a good historical romance. It has a wonderful setting, good, strong characters and a romance to take your breath away. ~ Reviewed by Julie Kornhausl
Read review at site
Read review at site
I found the cast of supporting characters believable as well, with their small town meddling, for better or worse! I laughed at the well meaning yet misguided charity of the city folk too. This is a charming story with likeable main characters. Tate is a different hero than the usual take-no-prisoners type. It's quite refreshing.Kennie writes beautful descriptions of the prairie. She paints a pretty picture of the wheat fields and surrounding scenery. Within the first pages, a dust storm overtakes our heroes and I could feel the sand stuck in my teeth! Review by Lavender
Read review at site
Simply Romance Reviews
SRR Grade: B+
Ryshia Kennie’s, From The Dust, has all the elements that I love in a good historical romance. It has a wonderful setting, good, strong characters and a romance to take your breath away. ~ Reviewed by Julie Kornhausl
Read review at site
“Rich in period detail and full of nicely-drawn characters, From the Dust” is a solid romance that also has a good deal to offer to those who don’t normally read romances.”
Dan Hays, Statesman Journal
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