Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Introducing...Rhianon Etzweiler

Oh, this little blog of mine.  How much I really do just love it.  It never fails to bring a smile back to my face.

One of the things I love the most is the people I've met, friends I've made while on this blog journey of mine.  While I'm thinking about it, I'd like to throw out a big thanks to you guys that came by yesterday.  You're hugs, good thoughts and well wishes mean the world to me.  I very much appreciate it.  Thank you from my heart.

Before I get all uber mushy, let’s get back to our regularly scheduled... willynilly.  Complete with wardrobe change.

There, that's better.

For today's willynilly, I wanted to talk about the greatness of some of the authors I've met since starting this little blog of mine.  I've danced up and down and all around Aleksandr Voinov, Barbara Sheridan, and for the last couple of weeks...Raev Gray.  Now I want to start a little dance about another author.  Her name... *crowd waits in anticipation*... 

...and she rocks!

Go Rhianon, Go Rhianon

I've had the privilege of watching her go from writer, (she would forbid me from using the word author due to not being published, *rolls eyes* what-evER) to contracted, awaiting publication... author.

heehee, now she can't forbid me.  

You see, that's one of the really cool things I get to witness since starting this little blog of mine.  Authors doing their... author...uh...  thing.  =D

I love this shit.

I watched as they shared little bits and pieces of what they were writing, I was there the minute they finished and birthed said book, that was so exciting... and I was there the moment they got the contract.  That was uber exciting!

Friggin' awesome cool.  

Side note... I gotta say, the book is...AWESOME!

AweSOOOOME <-----sings

Uh, sorry, *tries to regather some composure* I'm getting a little ahead of myself.  That's not what I'm here to tell you about.  It'll still be a bit before the book comes out, so I'll be dancing all over that baby later on.  You can expect full blown claymores and hand grenades when the time comes.  I promise.

Besides all of that, I've also had the privilege of reading some other things she's written, and I gotta say... she is really, really, REALLY good.  You simply MUST keep an eye on this gem.  With a little pushing and some sweet talking, I'm hoping to get her over here often.  Or is that sweet talking then pushing...?  Hm.  *shakes head* I don't know.  What I do know is...

I feel another Go Rhianon coming on… 

wait for it… 

here it comes…

Go Rhianon, Go Rhianon 

(heehee, yes, there are little hand signals and a little head bob/chair dance thingy that goes with that)

Since it's going to be a bit before the book comes out, I wanted to share a different, very cool thing she is doing.  My dearest Rhianon has a new blog, and you have to check it out.  The cool thing... her muses will be there.  She's calling it "Meet the Muses"

I LOVE that!  

The first one is a muse named Konaton.  I am going to love him, I just know it.  Dude is scary cool.

I stole her excerpt for the occasion...

Meet the Muses: Excerpt: Konaton

The colors they see, I’ll never appreciate.  Where I lost one sense, I gained another.  The darkness others see, I’ve never known.  And it’s made all the difference over the years.

Few snipers are forcibly decommissioned – like bullets, you don’t dismantle them.  You put them in the rifle and pull the trigger.  They’re tools, meant to be used.  Expended. Nobody cares much about the empty shell that hits the ground, so long as the bullet’s on target.  One shot, one kill.
The cool steel of the rifle feels alive beneath my touch.  Not living and breathing, not like that.  More like me.  Chilled, dead and still inside.  A corporeal manifestation of my soul, visible, tangible.

Strictly functional, stripped down to the fundamentals, to the core of its being.  Flat, unpolished, giving no surface for even the faint light of moon, stars, or stray beam of streetlight to refract off of.  No scope – don’t need one, not with my vision.  Just gets in the way.  Can put flying metal through the eye of a target in LOS without one.

I can feel the tension, the danger.  It makes the hairs stand up on my skin.  Everywhere.  That sensation drives me out here to roost each night.  To watch, and wait.  I know that out here, I’m safe.

Never the same roost twice in a row.  I’ve staked out a dozen spots, more, to use.  Random selection each evening at dusk.  Unpredictable is secure.  Whomever it is out there watching me, I haven’t caught a glimpse of them.  I feel their presence, their attention focusing where it shouldn’t.  Beyond that, there’s been no sign.  Nothing tangible or visible.

That lack isn’t enough to stop me from crouching in the vee of a tree, or stretching out prone beneath the dense cover of the honeysuckle bush along the edge of the property, where civilization meets the wilderness of untouched woodlands.  Cool steel against the warm flesh of my forearm, finger resting flush against the trigger, waiting, watching.

I sleep with my eyes open.

Don’t remember how else to do it.

Tell me this guy doesn't sound awesome.  I can't wait to see more on him.  Today, over on her blog... an interview.  Oh yeah, an interview with Konaton.

I don't know about you, but I... have to check that out.  

Meet ch'ya there. 

Later taters.


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