| Rhianna Samuels |
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I thought I'd start with some Hot pictures
of Takeshi Kaneshiro. He is an Asian heart
throb and I certainly agree with his fans.
Major beautiful. As I was writing my novel,
Shaking Off The Dust, I had his face up on
my screen saver. One of my two hero's, is
an attractive Neurologist of Asian descent,
who also happens to be named Takeshi. I
imagined this face and body for my
character. (Okay, you can see, I am a fan
girl.)
Lessons Hannah learns along the way:
- Ghost are cold to the touch
- Professor Shimodo is not
- Tattoos can be more than decorative
- The FBI are as arrogant as
Neurosurgeons - Being tied to a chair is uncomfortable,
even if you're tied to a handsome
Spanish Agent - Who needs chandeliers when your sex
partner knows Japanese pressure points - Falling in love is the best adventure
Okay, so I introduced my novel and hope
you will now be waiting impatiently for it's
release.
As for Rhianna Samuels, in the real world
she works with doctors and nurses
everyday. I like the people I work with and
respect the physicians. But they laugh and
joke and fall prey to everyday vices just
like every other place that requires humans
to interact. It was difficult to decide who is
the most arrogant of doctors. I've come
across some Orthopedic surgeons that
would take over the world if they only
could. Over all, the Neurosurgeons win for
the most arrogant. I didn't have a
particular doctor I held up as my Tom. I
had a half dozen. I continue to work as an
ED nurse.
So, my blog questions is to all the readers,
whether they be writers too. When you
walk into the book store or peruse Amazon
online, what attracts you to read a new
author's book? Is it the cover art that
grabs you? Is it the genre it's placed
under? Is it that all important blurb on the
back of the cover?
I will be attending the Romantic Times
Booklovers Convention In Houston, Texas
April 25-29th, 2007. Come visit the
Samhain party on Sunday morning. I hope
to see you there. There are several Gift
Baskets that will be drawn for, as well as
the chocolate treats provided.
Read my blog < HERE OR BELOW
Facing the weird world
gone kind of wild in enjoying things to excess. Having already been treated a week or
gone kind of wild in enjoying things to excess. Having already been treated a week or
so ago at the health department he simply could not wait that week to allow the
antibiotics to do it’s job on two very nasty STD’s he just had to indulge again, he was now feeling the symptoms again. I kept that face on. I was not ready to be sympathetic;
now feeling the symptoms again. I kept that face on. I was not ready to be sympathetic;
I wanted to say that it was his partner that would suffer from the excess of his needs. I was not allowed to spank him, so I wore my face.
was not allowed to spank him, so I wore my face.
gone kind of wild in enjoying things to excess. Having already been treated a week or
gone kind of wild in enjoying things to excess. Having already been treated a week or
so ago at the health department he simply could not wait that week to allow the
antibiotics to do it’s job on two very nasty STD’s he just had to indulge again, he was now feeling the symptoms again. I kept that face on. I was not ready to be sympathetic;
now feeling the symptoms again. I kept that face on. I was not ready to be sympathetic;
I wanted to say that it was his partner that would suffer from the excess of his needs. I was not allowed to spank him, so I wore my face.
was not allowed to spank him, so I wore my face.
I went to work Thursday as if it were any other office day. After fifteen years of
working in the same department, and by virtue of outlasting every other
reasonably sane nurse out there, I managed to fall into the sweet job of following
up on quality in my ER. I still do bedside nursing, but I spend more time in the
office now. The staff has learned to cringe whenever I come around. I am either
handing out education materials and post tests, or explaining why they scored
poorly on a chart audit that was translated from chicken scratch to Greek in one
fell swoop.
In an effort to simplify my life, my family decided to brighten up two spaces by
moving furniture around in the rooms that I use the most. Since my days off and
my sisters days off seldom meet, but more importantly because she had off last
Thursday and Friday, she decided this would be a good day for her to move my
things around. Now, I have to say, she did call me in the middle of a particularly
sticky audit and the distraction was welcome. And when she offered to move the
computer desk and printers nearer to the window it sounded like a good idea.
TO READ MORE CLICK ON MY BLOG
working in the same department, and by virtue of outlasting every other
reasonably sane nurse out there, I managed to fall into the sweet job of following
up on quality in my ER. I still do bedside nursing, but I spend more time in the
office now. The staff has learned to cringe whenever I come around. I am either
handing out education materials and post tests, or explaining why they scored
poorly on a chart audit that was translated from chicken scratch to Greek in one
fell swoop.
In an effort to simplify my life, my family decided to brighten up two spaces by
moving furniture around in the rooms that I use the most. Since my days off and
my sisters days off seldom meet, but more importantly because she had off last
Thursday and Friday, she decided this would be a good day for her to move my
things around. Now, I have to say, she did call me in the middle of a particularly
sticky audit and the distraction was welcome. And when she offered to move the
computer desk and printers nearer to the window it sounded like a good idea.
TO READ MORE CLICK ON MY BLOG
From my POV
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
my twenties as that person who always thought it would be better somewhere
my twenties as that person who always thought it would be better somewhere
else, hoping I would find what I was looking for in another city. Trouble was I
never knew what I was looking for. After going from one coast to coast, living six
months to years in a multitude of states and cities I made the discovery that a
town or city is what you make it.
town or city is what you make it.
Don’t get me wrong, I had a blast in the process. After changing my major more
often than a prom queen changes her clothing, I finally dropped out. I waited
tables and then bartended for a long time. I could go from one place to another and
always find work. I even had insurance most of the time. I met thousands of
people in my travels, almost as many as I have met working in the same
emergency room for over 15 years. Hell, I walk through the mall nowadays and
everyone looks familiar.
To read more of this blog Cont...my blog
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
my twenties as that person who always thought it would be better somewhere
my twenties as that person who always thought it would be better somewhere
else, hoping I would find what I was looking for in another city. Trouble was I
never knew what I was looking for. After going from one coast to coast, living six
months to years in a multitude of states and cities I made the discovery that a
town or city is what you make it.
town or city is what you make it.
Don’t get me wrong, I had a blast in the process. After changing my major more
often than a prom queen changes her clothing, I finally dropped out. I waited
tables and then bartended for a long time. I could go from one place to another and
always find work. I even had insurance most of the time. I met thousands of
people in my travels, almost as many as I have met working in the same
emergency room for over 15 years. Hell, I walk through the mall nowadays and
everyone looks familiar.
To read more of this blog Cont...my blog
Release Date
Release Date
May 30, 2007
May 30, 2007
Release Date
May 15, 2007
May 15, 2007
My First Blog
About Us
We write everything
from romantic
suspense with a lighter
tone to the edgiest,
hold-on-and-don't-let-
go suspense.
Sensuality ranges
from mildly sensual to
swinging-from-the-cha
ndelier love scenes.
Marie-Nicole Ryan
Loribelle Hunt
Christyne Butler
Meg Allison
Emma Wayne Porter
Rhianna Samuels
We write everything
from romantic
suspense with a lighter
tone to the edgiest,
hold-on-and-don't-let-
go suspense.
Sensuality ranges
from mildly sensual to
swinging-from-the-cha
ndelier love scenes.
Marie-Nicole Ryan
Loribelle Hunt
Christyne Butler
Meg Allison
Emma Wayne Porter
Rhianna Samuels
June 15th, 2007
I am a panster, and though I always have a beginning, middle and end, the story
can take a different face from when I initially conceived the idea. As it grows up
and comes into its own, there is a chance that it has a sense of humor or a mean
streak. When I am writing my story it is my baby. All newborns are beautiful,
but like all growing things, they can have some awkward periods, especially
those terrible two’s when everything is
hopefully become logical with dreams of its own.
hopefully become logical with dreams of its own.
rehabilitation. The characters are the story teller and there are times I have to
rehabilitation. The characters are the story teller and there are times I have to
rewire their minds and actions, a little like a 12 step program. Plastic surgery is
helpful, think deviated septum. Surgery can heal many an ailment. I am big on
romance and my characters are fully capable of making me fall in love with them.
I hate that when it happens, because then it is hard to let them go when their
story is over. (I suppose that is why I immediately wrote two sequels to SOTD.) I
story is over. (I suppose that is why I immediately wrote two sequels to SOTD.) I
will always be comparing the next hero or heroine to them.
will always be comparing the next hero or heroine to them.
to read more of this blog Cont...click on my blog
I am a panster, and though I always have a beginning, middle and end, the story
can take a different face from when I initially conceived the idea. As it grows up
and comes into its own, there is a chance that it has a sense of humor or a mean
streak. When I am writing my story it is my baby. All newborns are beautiful,
but like all growing things, they can have some awkward periods, especially
those terrible two’s when everything is
hopefully become logical with dreams of its own.
hopefully become logical with dreams of its own.
rehabilitation. The characters are the story teller and there are times I have to
rehabilitation. The characters are the story teller and there are times I have to
rewire their minds and actions, a little like a 12 step program. Plastic surgery is
helpful, think deviated septum. Surgery can heal many an ailment. I am big on
romance and my characters are fully capable of making me fall in love with them.
I hate that when it happens, because then it is hard to let them go when their
story is over. (I suppose that is why I immediately wrote two sequels to SOTD.) I
story is over. (I suppose that is why I immediately wrote two sequels to SOTD.) I
will always be comparing the next hero or heroine to them.
will always be comparing the next hero or heroine to them.
to read more of this blog Cont...click on my blog
June 15th, 2007
SOTD
TITLE LOGO
TITLE LOGO
June 23rd, 2007
I don’t know all the secrets of the great writers. But I know the secret of
life. James Taylor sings about it in the song the Secret of Life. What is the
secret but to enjoy the moment you’re in this instant.
You are probably thinking, just as I have, “but I’m not really enjoying this
minute in my dentists’ chair.” I do know that I have spent great pieces of
my life dreaming of what the future will bring, instead of living in the now.
The memories I recall are those times that I was fully engaged and enjoying,
or not enjoying, but I was in the moment.
I know I’m not the only one who can get home and realize I don’t remember
the drive there. I was zoned out. (What does that mean?) I wasn’t paying
attention. I wasn’t there. I’d tell you if I remembered.
When I write it requires that I be fully engaged in the process, even if the
moment is surreal, as if I am plugged into some other place. I remember
writing SOTD in long hand. My sister had surgery and I was there with her
for the several days she spent in the hospital. For two days straight she
couldn’t stand the light in her room. So I sat in a chair next to her bed with
only one tiny sliver of light. I maneuvered until it let me see what I was
writing. The story was ready to fall out of my brain and through the pen. In
the first four or five days I wrote the majority of that book. I can remember
being confined, and yet completely attentive to the story. (And my sister)
And what of reading? Is it a false moment? I have read books that will stay
in my memories until I die. Novels with characters and stories so real that
are told to us in words as opposed to events to which we bear witness. In
reading a book are we neglecting life. Am I not engaged in my life because I
am engaged in a world between two covers?
to read more of this blog cont...click on my blog
I don’t know all the secrets of the great writers. But I know the secret of
life. James Taylor sings about it in the song the Secret of Life. What is the
secret but to enjoy the moment you’re in this instant.
You are probably thinking, just as I have, “but I’m not really enjoying this
minute in my dentists’ chair.” I do know that I have spent great pieces of
my life dreaming of what the future will bring, instead of living in the now.
The memories I recall are those times that I was fully engaged and enjoying,
or not enjoying, but I was in the moment.
I know I’m not the only one who can get home and realize I don’t remember
the drive there. I was zoned out. (What does that mean?) I wasn’t paying
attention. I wasn’t there. I’d tell you if I remembered.
When I write it requires that I be fully engaged in the process, even if the
moment is surreal, as if I am plugged into some other place. I remember
writing SOTD in long hand. My sister had surgery and I was there with her
for the several days she spent in the hospital. For two days straight she
couldn’t stand the light in her room. So I sat in a chair next to her bed with
only one tiny sliver of light. I maneuvered until it let me see what I was
writing. The story was ready to fall out of my brain and through the pen. In
the first four or five days I wrote the majority of that book. I can remember
being confined, and yet completely attentive to the story. (And my sister)
And what of reading? Is it a false moment? I have read books that will stay
in my memories until I die. Novels with characters and stories so real that
are told to us in words as opposed to events to which we bear witness. In
reading a book are we neglecting life. Am I not engaged in my life because I
am engaged in a world between two covers?
to read more of this blog cont...click on my blog
Release Date
June 23rd, 2007
June 23rd, 2007
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
| Join/Subscribe to my Yahoo Group Shaking off the Dust to recieve Blogs, updates,excerpts and contests from Rhainnasamuels.com webpage. ER nurse and author of the paranormal romantic suspense- Shaking off the Dust coming in 2008 from Samhain Publishing. Share my journey through the process of being published and my sometimes wicked point of view on life as a jaded ER nurse and thoughts on life and especially writing. |
you not to give up until you have at least three best sellers. The other is the one
where I write and wait impatiently to see it published.
where I write and wait impatiently to see it published.
Today, almost as soon as I reached my office, the night charge nurse came in
smiling and content with life. He has several new nurses on his shift and was
bragging about them. (The new nurses fall under my job description.) For half an
hour and within just an hour of the day shift crowd being there, it all went to hell.
He had four patients suddenly going critical at the same time.
One was crashing as his blood pressure tried to reach zero, one having an allergic
reaction that tried very hard to close off his throat, one rushing to surgery.
The fourth was a young girl, who when she entered the ED was complaining of
abdominal pain and missed her period a month before. Trouble was when the
nurse examined her she was as near to crowning as you can get without the head
popping out. (You know the scene in Knocked Up.)
The doctor came and did a quick exam and sent three nurses up with her to reach
L&D while the doc stayed with the other emergent patients in the ED. They called
to warn L&D(labor and delivery) and rushed to get her there in time. Trouble was
there was not an obstetrician on the floor. He said he could hear the page over
head. Three ER nurses and a couple of L&D nurses delivered this little girl.
He was feeling pretty good. Saved some lives and brought a new one into the
world. He was smiling as he told me that he had so wanted to simple push aside
the L&D nurse and deliver the baby himself. It was a tantalizing idea to be the first
to hold her as she was born. The baby was early, but not that early. The other
patients all made it without complications and all was right with his world.
I wasn’t with them while they showed the gold. After more than 15 years in the
emergency room it was a thrill to see the nurses that I helped orient and
encourage, gain the knowledge and skill to shine when it all seemed dark for a
time.
I know how he felt. We bear witness to tragedy so much of the time in the
emergency room. We see the miscarriages, not the deliveries. We see the first
golden hour of traumatic events when everything you do can make a difference,
not the day they walk home. We hear the death wails of family members as they
are allowed in the room to watch as we try to save their husband, wife, brother or
father, not the sweet remembrances.
It requires a very special individual to do that job. We don’t have the hours or
days of getting to know our patients, instead we a short window of time save the
emergent patient or diagnose and treat the less emergent. We are the way station
on their way home, the hospital room upstairs or to their maker. There’s always
someone else waiting for us to get to them. So this nurse would go home today
weary from life, with the knowledge he and five other nurses made a difference in
the lives of everyone they cared for that night. Some days at the end of your shift
that feeling is not there, because you feel only the weary. It was a good day for
him and I was glad.
So today I did both my jobs. I bore witness to his story and then I wrote about it.
In my life I don’t have to come up with outrageous tales, I can just tell you about
my day or one of the many I remember. When I write I always see the happy
ending, even if it is not part of the real story. That’s why I write fiction.
Rhianna Samuels/story teller/ER nurse
Read more of my blogs by clicking on my blog
June 29th, 2007
Fiction vs Reality
This last week was a vacation. Scheduled back in December because my job requires that we
turn in our vacation request by the December 15 of the previous year. I looked at my calendar
back then and looked at the dates for Romantic Times, Romance Writers of America and
Dragoncon. December was before my novel was going to be published, but I was looking out
for ways to get published and set down those three weeks to definitely attend at least one of
those conventions.
I made it to Romantic Times, (loved it, by the way! and I’m planning to attends next years.)
But, it chewed my wallet and spit it back out again. Empty. I wanted to attend RWA, but just
could not do it this year.
Instead, family came to visit. My nephew is 15, this week. He left last Tuesday, after a month
visiting. It was treat, he changed before our very eyes. No, seriously, he grew form 5’9” to 5’10
½” in one month. He has a wicked sense of humor and blessed with parents that taught him
exceptional manners, and how important a sense of humor can be in all things. During his visit
my niece, who lives about an hour away also came to stay for short periods.
I managed to turn them on to Die Hard & Die Harder. They enjoyed it so much they wanted to
see Live Free and Die Hard before Transformers. Die Hard was pretty wonderful, by the way.
They, in turn, hooked me on Ninja Warriors.
Teenagers are great to be around for writers. They know the language; the latest “words” and
I get a chance to see the world from their snarky eyes, and don't try to tell me they are not
skewered in thier perspective. They can also scrabble decently and try desperately to beat me
I felt a little stressed that my time was not my own and I wanted an extended time period that
was just for me. (Yes, there was a definite whine there.)
I returned to work today, thinking I had not really had the ideal vacation, you know, the one
where I could sleep in and small, quiet fairies cater to your every whim. I asked one of my
favorite nurses if anything happened while I was gone. The usual question, anyone quit, get
fired or transfer from our department.
For years I have considered the staff of my emergency room a microcosm of the world.
Anything you see on TV has happened to someone that has worked there over the last 16 years
and what I was told was all part of that theory.
One of the nurses came home to find her thirteen year old son carrying in her two year old,
who he’d just found floating face down in the swimming pool, she was blue. She started CPR
while her son called 911. When the medics arrived she had a weak pulse back. She took one
look at the medic, one we all know and trust and allowed herself to finally become a stunned
and tearful mother. She held it together long enough to save her daughter, but when she knew
she could turn her over to others that she trusted, she was just another mother scared out of
her mind and heart that she was loosing her child. That was four days ago, her daughter came
off the respirator today and they are hopeful for a full recovery.
It is the lesson that it doesn’t happen to the other guy, it’s you and me, it can happen to
anyone. It was a reminder that we can be handed any possibilities, and must be strong even
when we want to crumble. It is why we want to read fiction, because life is so real and
unforgiving.
I was whining because I didn’t get my perfect vacation. I got over it.
I just gave you a reality, wouldn’t you prefer it was an excerpt from fiction? I know I did.
In my head it all seemed to have something to do with why I write. Why we relate so much to
characters that have things thrown at them and they rise to meet a challenge or overcome some
great sorrow. Or how God is in that nurse, who brought her child back. We read to step out of
reality. Or is it to hold a mirror to reality, so that we can see through others eyes, the voyeur,
who can be separate of the pain of reality?
Well, I'm just rambling now. (Okay, for a while now.)
What do you think? Is a vacation a week away from the reality of life? Does our desire for the
perfect vacation reflect our lives or are they a fiction that we can live for a week or two?
This last week was a vacation. Scheduled back in December because my job requires that we
turn in our vacation request by the December 15 of the previous year. I looked at my calendar
back then and looked at the dates for Romantic Times, Romance Writers of America and
Dragoncon. December was before my novel was going to be published, but I was looking out
for ways to get published and set down those three weeks to definitely attend at least one of
those conventions.
I made it to Romantic Times, (loved it, by the way! and I’m planning to attends next years.)
But, it chewed my wallet and spit it back out again. Empty. I wanted to attend RWA, but just
could not do it this year.
Instead, family came to visit. My nephew is 15, this week. He left last Tuesday, after a month
visiting. It was treat, he changed before our very eyes. No, seriously, he grew form 5’9” to 5’10
½” in one month. He has a wicked sense of humor and blessed with parents that taught him
exceptional manners, and how important a sense of humor can be in all things. During his visit
my niece, who lives about an hour away also came to stay for short periods.
I managed to turn them on to Die Hard & Die Harder. They enjoyed it so much they wanted to
see Live Free and Die Hard before Transformers. Die Hard was pretty wonderful, by the way.
They, in turn, hooked me on Ninja Warriors.
Teenagers are great to be around for writers. They know the language; the latest “words” and
I get a chance to see the world from their snarky eyes, and don't try to tell me they are not
skewered in thier perspective. They can also scrabble decently and try desperately to beat me
I felt a little stressed that my time was not my own and I wanted an extended time period that
was just for me. (Yes, there was a definite whine there.)
I returned to work today, thinking I had not really had the ideal vacation, you know, the one
where I could sleep in and small, quiet fairies cater to your every whim. I asked one of my
favorite nurses if anything happened while I was gone. The usual question, anyone quit, get
fired or transfer from our department.
For years I have considered the staff of my emergency room a microcosm of the world.
Anything you see on TV has happened to someone that has worked there over the last 16 years
and what I was told was all part of that theory.
One of the nurses came home to find her thirteen year old son carrying in her two year old,
who he’d just found floating face down in the swimming pool, she was blue. She started CPR
while her son called 911. When the medics arrived she had a weak pulse back. She took one
look at the medic, one we all know and trust and allowed herself to finally become a stunned
and tearful mother. She held it together long enough to save her daughter, but when she knew
she could turn her over to others that she trusted, she was just another mother scared out of
her mind and heart that she was loosing her child. That was four days ago, her daughter came
off the respirator today and they are hopeful for a full recovery.
It is the lesson that it doesn’t happen to the other guy, it’s you and me, it can happen to
anyone. It was a reminder that we can be handed any possibilities, and must be strong even
when we want to crumble. It is why we want to read fiction, because life is so real and
unforgiving.
I was whining because I didn’t get my perfect vacation. I got over it.
I just gave you a reality, wouldn’t you prefer it was an excerpt from fiction? I know I did.
In my head it all seemed to have something to do with why I write. Why we relate so much to
characters that have things thrown at them and they rise to meet a challenge or overcome some
great sorrow. Or how God is in that nurse, who brought her child back. We read to step out of
reality. Or is it to hold a mirror to reality, so that we can see through others eyes, the voyeur,
who can be separate of the pain of reality?
Well, I'm just rambling now. (Okay, for a while now.)
What do you think? Is a vacation a week away from the reality of life? Does our desire for the
perfect vacation reflect our lives or are they a fiction that we can live for a week or two?