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What a remarkable year I am having. (This is the part where I remark upon it for several paragraphs.) Years of ICU nursing and the last sixteen as an emergency room nurse have taught me how fragile our existence can be. I bear witness to the comedies and too often, the tragedies. That kind of constant bombardment of the worst possible outcomes can make your world view a bit jaded. *Color me uber skewed*.  So it was not a huge leap from my world to the world of Shaking off the Dust.
A half hour lunch discussion on who were the most boorish physicians, naturally led me to the idea of a book based on an ER nurse being haunted by an obnoxious neurosurgeon. (It was a close call between orthopedic surgeons and neurosurgeons. Yes, I do respect all physicians, but they are still human.)   With 9-11 and daily news reports on the next terrorist bombing the premise unfolded. By the time I started to write, the story was fully formed and poured out of my pen.  Hammering it out on the keyboard was not as much fun.
 Those twenty years away from my last English or writing class didn’t help the spelling or punctuation, but the story grew in the telling. At the time of it’s writing, I’d fallen in love with Takeshi Kenishiro, who I’d watched over and over in the Japanese megahit “The Returner” (a sci fi, time travel movie from 2001, the number one movie in Japan that year.) I was a couple years late in viewing, but once I seen it, I was hooked.  This guy is a huge Asian film star and as I wrote SOTD his picture sat upon my computer screen.
 Then late last year, I took a writing class with Ann Crispin and sent her two partials to look at as part of the class. She started reading the first of them and didn’t even bother to view the other. Lucky for me the one she read was SOTD. She liked it. And during our one on one critique she encouraged me to start sending it out.  At the same conference, I sat in on a panel of editors and Samhain Publishing was among them. I was impressed with their representative; she was warm, funny and encouraging.
So here is where life took a decidedly odd turn. I waited a couple of months to have a new critique partner review the manuscript before I submitted to the editor I met at Samhain.  Within a few days of finally sending it to her, I received a reply informing me that she had died the previous week. This was a tragedy and an eerie parallel to the theme that runs through my book.
“Shaking Off the Dust” is about opening ourselves to change. For the ghost Tom Mecurio, he clings to this plane of existence because he believes his purpose here is not fulfilled and because he is afraid. He pulls Hannah Campbell from the quiet routine she has fallen into since a car accident, allowing her to open up to adventure and romance. Professor Takeshi Shimodo, Tom’s best friend, has punished himself for years for breaking the rules in his youth and loosing everyone that he loved. His life since then has been quiet discipline and nearly emotionless, until Hannah comes laughing into his heart. These three main characters are rising from the ashes of their old lives, shaking off the dust and moving forward.
 The woman that I met on that editor’s panel was vibrant and witty, she was a fleeting link to a future I hoped to reach. As we submit our manuscripts to editors for consideration, you always hope to find a connection with the person on the other end. Though, from their perspective that may not be what they perceive as existing, an editor wants a story that is fresh and engaging. My day job prepared me for the constant transformation of the landscape. I could only imagine the impact of her death on her family and coworkers. I put aside my ambitions and told them I would resubmit at another time.
My manuscript was sent on to another editor though. After rewrites and a resubmit, I was offered the opportunity become part of their author list and I’ve been thrilled every day since then.
 As for my world view of how I reached publication? I have to say, it was a brief encounter with a woman who is now gone, whose life became a thread in the tapestry of my life.
Rhianna Samuels
Rhiannasamuels.com