From Amazon: — Nokemes (grandmother), tell me, the kzel8msen that makes the leaves of the birch trees dance, where does it come from?— Gluskabe, that’s a very good question. Why do you want to know?— I just want to understand how nature works, nokemes.— Are you sure you don’t have a weird idea in mind? You look quite disheveled. You didn’t accidentally squabble with a puff of kzel8msen, did you? — Not at all, nokemes. This is just to increase my knowledge.— You promise me that you won’t meddle in what is none of your business if I tell you where the kzel8msen comes from?— I promise, nokemes. Gluskabe assured, fingers crossed behind his back… and our story begins.

My Review: I found this to be a nicely narrated story for kids with hand drawn illustrations. The main character finds out the hard way why he should not mess or try to change the winds or weather. Losing part of nature kills off other things. We should all be cognizant of what our own footprints leave.

From Amazon: “The day I nearly drowned, I was wearing a new swimming costume. Mum had always given me plain, navy, one-piece suits: sometimes second-hand, I realised now – their thin, elastic threads poking through the sheen of the fabric in barbs…”. The second collection in The Blue Hour series, The Day I Nearly Drowned continues an exploration of the challenges faced by ordinary people, at pivotal moments in their lives. A father is reunited with his daughter; a woman attends a funeral; a child almost drowns. Dreena Collins again brings us characters that will resonate – in tales full of twists, humour and emotion.

My Review: Dreena has a wonderful book of short stories that will have you trying to figure out where each story is headed. The writing style has an easy flow. Stories are unique. I loved one with a young mother as I could relate to parts of it, and I was surprised by how I was taken with the point of view of a dead woman watching her own funeral. Five shiny gold stars.

TRIGGER WARNINGS! Do not read this post if you trigger.

From Amazon: Catherine was twelve years old standing on a sidewalk with a duffle bag of clothes as she looked at the home behind her. Its front door closed as the family behind it continued to lived their lives. A family she was unwanted by because she fought to not be abused anymore. A fight that made her lose out on family, but a fight that made her abuser never to touch her again. Her horrifying childhood tragedy was over but the emotional, mental and psychological abuse from her own family was only beginning. Running away, friendships, relationships, motherhood, reconnections and heartaches, all while living a lifetime of shame, secrets and silence. Depression, PTSD and repressed memories at the age of forty-five, sending her straight to her hometown police department. Bringing the readers for a rollercoaster ride of emotions, atmospheres and right into the scene they are reading. What did detectives find in Catherine’s childhood home? Who is the monstrous predator her birth mother harbored? How long can family secrets stay buried? What is life like growing up a statistic in a world full of abused children? My name is Catherine Mellen and this is my continuing life story.

My Review: I don’t want to dredge up horrific memories of the author’s childhood, thus I won’t be writing any of that in my review. If you have been abused in any way, please know this story is a huge trigger from start to finish. That doesn’t mean to not read this book as reading this book will also help many others. I recommend reading this book as the second book in this series, just like I’ve done as this book fills in plot areas in her first book. This story did trigger me throughout. The evil that some individuals do is more than horrific. Writing this book was therapeutic in getting it out, yet horrific for the memories.

Media Kit

Book Title: More Precious Than Gold

Series: The Hearts of Gold Trilogy, Book 2

Author: Renee Yancy

Publication Date: 28th June 2022

Publisher: Vinspire

Page Length: 345 Pages

Genre: Historical Romance

Twitter Handle: @YancyRenee @maryanneyarde

Instagram Handles: @reneeyancy @coffeepotbookclub

Hashtags: #HistoricalFiction #HistoricalRomance #BlogTour #CoffeePotBookClub

Tour Schedule Page: https://maryanneyarde.blogspot.com/2022/02/blog-tour-more-precious-than-gold.html

Book Title and Author Name:

More Precious Than Gold

(The Hearts of Gold Trilogy, Book 2)

By Renee Yancy

Blurb

A young woman refuses to become a pawn in her grandmother’s revenge scheme and forgoes a life of wealth and royalty to pursue a nursing career as America enters WWI and the Pandemic Flu of 1918 wreaks havoc in New York City.

Excerpt:

The face should be trained never to show a trace of anxiety or alarm, no matter how grave the occasion; no surprise should be expressed even by so much as the lifting of an eyebrow. —Nursing Ethics, Isabel Hampton Robb, 1917

Now classes on antiseptics, bacteriology, and instruction on bandaging and dressings alternated with twelve-hour shifts on the various wards, beginning with the medical floor. The first two weeks had gone well. Kitty had adapted to the new schedule and found she enjoyed taking care of the older patients.

On the first day of the third week, they had been on duty a quarter of an hour when cries of distress emanated from a low iron bed in a corner of the ward. Elderly Mr. Johnson sat up and scrabbled through his mussed bedclothes.

“Oh dear, oh dear, I’ve lost it.” He raked his hands through his hair, setting his white curls on end. “It must have fallen under the bed. Oh, dear, oh, dear!”

“Can I help you, Mr. Johnson?” Kitty laid a gentle hand on his scrawny shoulder, feeling the thinness of his frame under the cotton pajamas. “What have you lost, sir? Perhaps I can assist you.”

“Oh, oh, oh.” He wrung his hands. “It must be under the bed. I have to find it.”

Kitty untied her pinafore, unpinned her nurse’s cap, and set them on the patient’s bedside stand. Then she got down on her hands and knees. It had taken nearly an hour to starch and iron her uniform and white pinafore before reporting for duty this evening, and already the shift had taken its toll on her uniform. She sighed and poked her head under the bed. “What am I looking for, Mr. Johnson?”

The bedsprings above her head creaked with the patient’s frantic movements and a bare foot with horny toenails dropped down next to her.

“Stay in bed, sir. I’ll find it. But what am I looking for?” The foot disappeared but there was still no answer, only Mr. Johnson’s repeated exclamations of distress.

Kitty sighed and flattened her body to slide her upper torso into the dim recesses under the bed. Aside from a few dust balls, nothing else emerged from the darkness. Someone on the day shift hadn’t done a thorough job of dusting. Gingerly, she felt around with both her hands. “I don’t see anything under here, Mr. Johnson.” She sneezed violently twice.

“I know it’s under there.” His voice quavered. “It must have rolled into the corner.”

Kitty groaned. There was no help for it. She reached her hand to the bed leg and pulled herself the rest of the way under the bed, holding her breath. She patted her hand around the floor again and came up empty. “It would help if I knew what I was looking for, Mr. Johnson.”

She tried to keep the irritation out of her voice as her hand touched something round and hard and cold. She picked it up, turned it over, then recoiled and let out a muffled shriek. The back of her head hit the mattress boards so hard she saw stars. A glass eye glared back at her in the gloom, the blue iris surrounded completely by bright white. She nearly dropped it again but managed to wriggle herself out backward from underneath the bed. She pushed herself to her feet and brushed dust and cobwebs off her uniform.

“Well, dizzy me,” she said. She gave several vociferous sneezes. “Is this what you were looking for?”

Mr. Johnson snatched the artificial eye from her palm. “That’s it!” He rubbed the eye on his nightclothes, gave it a lick, and popped it in. “Thank you, nurse.”

Buy Links:

Universal Link (if you have it): https://books2read.com/u/bQPlGd

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/More-Precious-Than-Renee-Yancy-ebook/dp/B0B2ZQXTHV

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/More-Precious-Than-Renee-Yancy-ebook/dp/B0B2ZQXTHV

Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/More-Precious-Than-Renee-Yancy-ebook/dp/B0B2ZQXTHV

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/more-precious-than-gold-renee-yancy/1141594321

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/more-precious-than-gold-4

Apple Books: https://books.apple.com/gb/book/more-precious-than-gold/id6442926646

Author Bio:

Renee Yancy

Renee Yancy is a history and archaeology nut who works as an RN when she isn’t writing historical fiction or traveling the world to see the exotic places her characters have lived.

A voracious reader as a young girl, she now writes the kind of books she loves to read—stories filled with historical and archaeological detail interwoven with strong characters facing big conflicts. Her goal is to take you on a journey into the past so fascinating that you can’t put the story down.

When she isn’t writing, Renee can be found in the wilds of Kentucky with her husband and a rescue mutt named Ellie. She loves flea markets and collecting pottery and glass and most anything mid-century modern.

Social Media Links:

Website: https://reneeyancy.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/YancyRenee

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/renee.q.yancy/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/reneeyancy/

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/reneeyancy/novel-more-precious-than-gold/

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/renee-yancy

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Renee-Yancy/e/B00726MJDQ

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5754717.Renee_Yancy

Book Title: Leningrad: The People’s War

Series: (Leningrad, Book 1)

Author: Rachel R. Heil

Publication Date: February 5, 2021

Publisher: Independently Published

Page Length: 326 Pages

Genre: Historical Fiction, Romance

Twitter Handles: @HeilRachelR @maryanneyarde

Instagram Handles: @rachelrheil @coffeepotbookclub

Hashtags: #HistoricalFiction #WorldWarII #Leningrad #BlogTour #CoffeePotBookClub

Tour Schedule Page: https://maryanneyarde.blogspot.com/2022/01/blog-tour-leningrad-peoples-war.html

Book Title and Author Name:

Leningrad: The People’s War

(Leningrad, Book 1)

By Rachel R. Heil

Blurb

Leningrad, 1941. As Europe crumbles under the German war machine, the people of the Soviet Union watch. There are whispers of war but not loud enough for the civilians of Leningrad to notice. Instead, they keep their heads down and try to avoid the ever-watching eyes of their own oppressive government.

University student Tatiana Ivankova tries to look ahead to the future after a family tragedy that characterizes life under the brutal regime. But, when the rumors that have been circulating the country become a terrifying reality, Tatiana realizes that the greatest fear may not be the enemy but what her fellow citizens are prepared to do to each other to survive.

As his men plow through the Russian countryside, Heinrich Nottebohm is told to follow orders and ask no questions, even if such commands go against his own principles. His superiors hold over him a past event that continues to destroy him with every day that passes. But, when given the opportunity to take an act of defiance, Heinrich will jump at the chance, ignoring what the end results could be.

Leningrad: The People’s War tells the harrowing beginning of a war that forever changed the landscape of a city, told through the eyes of both sides in a tale of courage, love, and sacrifice.

EXCERPT 2:

“What happened?” Tatiana asked nervously. “Was someone arrested?”

“No, no one was arrested,” Leonid quickly reassured her. Nothing scared the family more than the news that someone they knew had been taken into custody. Taking a breath, he elaborated, “I went out this morning to get a newspaper, but the police were telling everyone to go back home and stay there. Only government officials are allowed out.”

Tatiana was unmoved. For some reason, her father’s story didn’t scare her.

Alexandra poked his arm. “Tell her what else you saw.”

Leonid didn’t seem open to the idea but since Alexandra had mentioned it, he added, “On my way back I saw two army vehicles carrying various men in uniforms. Army uniforms.”

While it was not uncommon to see men in the Navy in Leningrad, spotting members of the army was unusual. What was that all about?

“Did you hear anything as to why they’re here?” Tatiana asked cautiously.

“No. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“It’s another purge.” Alexandra walked over to the window, one hand on her forehead and the other in a fist on her hip.

“There’s not going to be a purge,” Leonid said harshly.

Tatiana thought of how they could find out. “Has the radio said anything?”

“We could turn it on,” Leonid offered.

“What’s the point?” Alexandra bemoaned. “All it is…is propaganda!”

Ignoring his wife’s cries, Leonid went into their living room where their small, brown radio sat. He switched the dial on and fixed it to the main channel, which was playing the usual morning music. As Leonid went over to Alexandra and whispered quiet assurances, Tatiana returned upstairs to get dressed.

Her father’s story was strange. Why were the police stopping them from leaving their houses, and why were army officers in Leningrad? The more she thought about it, the more Tatiana began to fear what her mother suspected.

Stepping out of her bedroom and closing the door, she found Manya in the middle of the hall, clutching her doll with blond hair and a pink and white dress that Alexandra had sewn for her.

“What’s going on?” She squeaked.

“What do you mean?” Tatiana decided it was best to pretend like nothing was happening. Last thing the family needed was for Manya to be afraid.

“Mama and Papa have been talking all morning.” Manya’s grip on her doll grew tighter.

“Oh, Papa just saw some army people, that’s all,” she distorted the truth.

“Why is the army here?” Manya seemed more intrigued than scared.

“I don’t know.”

Desperate to get away from the questions, Tatiana went downstairs to make breakfast. As she finished, she looked at the clock in the kitchen. It was twenty minutes to noon.

While eating in silence in the dining room, Tatiana heard someone rumbling about upstairs. Five minutes later, Dmitri jogged down the stairs dressed, undoubtedly expecting to meet up with some friends at one of the cafes.

“Morning, dear sister,” Dmitri greeted with his signature smile.

“Morning,” Tatiana muttered.

“Why the long face?”

Dmitri went into the kitchen. “Something is going on.”

“Like what?” He returned to the dining room with a glass of water, which he downed in several gulps.

“Papa said the police are telling people to stay inside and he saw army officers entering the city.”

Dmitri twisted his mouth as he thought. “Well, the staying inside is strange, but I don’t see anything unusual with army officers. We do have some stationed here.”

“Papa made it sound like he’s never seen these officers before.”

Dmitri raised an eyebrow. “And Papa knows every officer in Leningrad?”

Tatiana didn’t feel like arguing. She just wanted someone to reassure her that everything was fine.

Alexandra hustled from the living room to the dining room. “Comrade Molotov is making a speech at noon.”

“Why is Molotov talking and not dear uncle Stalin?” Dmitri asked sarcastically.

“Who knows, my child.” Their mother looked white. “We’re going to listen. Come join us if you like.”

Tatiana finished her breakfast and took her dishes into the kitchen. As she headed for the living room, she stopped by the staircase and saw Dasha descending, rubbing her eyes.

“What is with all the noise down here?” She demanded. “It’s as if a herd of elephants came through.”

“Something is going on,” Tatiana explained. “Comrade Molotov is going to give a speech in a few minutes.”

“On what?” Dasha sounded exasperated.

“We don’t know.”

Leaving Dasha to stew, Tatiana sat down next to the radio while her parents sat on the small, off-white couch. Dmitri leaned against the doorframe while Dasha dragged her feet and sat in the matching chair. A minute before the speech commenced, Manya walked in and curled up next to Alexandra, who wrapped a comforting arm around her.

When the last song finished, there was silence with some static before Comrade Molotov’s flat, unemotional voice filled the house. “Men and women, citizens of the Soviet Union, the Soviet Government and Comrade Stalin have instructed me to make the following announcement.” He paused for a moment. “At four a.m., without declaration of war and without any claims being made on the Soviet Union, German troops attacked our country—attacked our frontier in many places—and bombed from the air Zhitomir, Kiev, Sevastopol, Kaunas, and other cities.”

Tatiana’s breath caught in her throat, followed by a sensation of not being able to find air. The world had seemingly stopped moving.

“Attacked?” Dasha whispered.

“By the Germans,” Dmitri grunted.

Alexandra looked at him. “Dmitri.”

“Quiet, all of you,” Leonid hushed.

“This attack,” Molotov continued, “has been made despite the fact that there was a nonaggression pact between the Soviet Union and Germany, the terms of which were scrupulously observed by the Soviet Union.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Dmitri muttered.

“Enough.” Alexandra wagged a finger at him.

“We have been attacked.” Molotov’s voice seemed to fail but quickly recovered. “During the period of the pact, the German Government had not made the slightest complaint about the U.S.S.R not carrying out its obligations.”

Manya looked up at her mother. “What pact?”

“Please be quiet, darling.”

Tatiana’s head felt heavy. All this information came faster than she could process. How could they have been attacked? Why hadn’t the army stopped them?

“The government,” Molotov gathered some strength, “calls upon you, men and women citizens of the Soviet Union, to rally even more closely around the glorious Bolshevik Party, around the Soviet Government, and our great leader, Comrade Stalin. Our cause is just. The enemy will be crushed. Victory will be ours.”

The radio went silent. No one said a word.

Tatiana could hear ringing in her ears as if an explosion had gone off nearby.

Only when the radio began to play a song about loyalty to the Soviet Union did Leonid speak. “Tatiana, turn that off please.”

The ringing ceased and with fumbling fingers, she switched it off.

“Attacked?” Dasha’s voice was shaky.

Dmitri shook his head. “I knew this would happen.”

“How did you know?” Dasha demanded.

“Why didn’t Comrade Stalin talk to us?” Manya looked to Alexandra for answers.

“It was inevitable, Dasha,” Dmitri answered. “Half of Europe is now under the Germans. Hitler hates Communism. And you know what? I welcome it.”

“You welcome the Germans?” Dasha’s voice was nearly a shriek.

“How could you not?” Dmitri leaned towards her. “Do you remember what they did—”

“That’s enough, Dmitri,” Leonid jumped in.

“We can’t go to war.” Alexandra’s eyes were filled with tears. “What will become of us?”

“Why did the army not defend us?” Tatiana added her voice.

“It sounds like it was a surprise attack,” Leonid commented.

“Surprise?” Dmitri’s eyes widened. “Please. Stalin probably let them in.”

“Dmitri,” Dasha said, “why in God’s name—”

“Don’t use God’s name.” Their mother scolded.

“Sorry, Mama,” Dasha hastily added. “Why on earth would Stalin let the Germans invade? It makes no sense.”

“Probably so Stalin could reduce the population a bit more.” Dmitri shoved his hands in his pockets. “Saves him the trouble of coming up with an excuse as to why there are so many dead bodies.”

Manya began to sob. “Mama, I don’t want to die!”

“Both of you stop it.” Leonid stood up and looked directly at his two oldest children. “You’re scaring your sister.”

“We should all be scared!” Dmitri proclaimed.

“Are you finished?” Leonid snarled.

Dmitri pursued his lips but was quiet.

As Manya’s cries died away, Alexandra stood up with her. “I’m putting Manya in her room to calm down and then I’m going to the grocery store.”

“Why?” Tatiana blurted.

Her mother gazed into her eyes. “We’re at war, Tatiana. We need to get food while we still can.”

Buy Links:

This novel is available on #KindleUnlimited.

Universal Link: mybook.to/LeningradWar

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08PMM3NX6

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08PMM3NX6

Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B08PMM3NX6

Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B08PMM3NX6

Author Bio:

Rachel R. Heil

Rachel R. Heil is a historical fiction writer who always dreamed of being an author. After years of dreaming, she finally decided to turn this dream into a reality with her first novel, and series, Behind the Darkened Glass. Rachel is an avid history fan, primarily focused on twentieth century history and particularly World War Two-era events. In addition to her love for history, Rachel loves following the British Royal Family and traveling the world, which only opens the door to learning more about a country’s history. Rachel resides in Wisconsin.

Social Media Links:

Twitter: https://twitter.com/HeilRachelR

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RachelRHeil

LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/rachel-heil-90bbb6119/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rachelrheil/

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/rachel-r-heil

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Rachel-R-Heil/e/B07MY8DZT8Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18802162.Rachel_R_Heil

Please welcome Stephen Geez to my blog. Hello, Stephen, nice to have you here this morning. Shall we have a chat? Please introduce yourself to those reading this blog post.

I’m Stephen Geez, author of novels in various genres, the GeezWriter How-to series for authors, oodles of scripts for television and other media, a collection of 54 mini-memoir essays, and the book I’m touting today, Comes This Time to Float: 19 Short Stories by Stephen Geez. I’m also the founder and publisher at Fresh Ink Group where I do cover design; editing; web development; trailer and video production; audiobook production; and international publishing of hard, soft, and eBooks.

Has writing always been part of your life and when did you “know” that it was time to start writing your first book?

During grad school I started establishing non-profits and setting up multi-million-dollar outreach programs for at-risk populations. I excelled at this for seven years but got too creatively itchy, so I transitioned into being a TV producer and eventually executive producer while also composing and producing music for television as a keyboard player. On the side, I wrote a short story (now lost), then wrote my first novel, Dance of the Lights. I set up Fresh Ink (not yet Group, LLC) to manage my literary contracts. Frustrated with traditional publishing’s lack of say-so and low payouts, I transitioned to Fresh Ink Group as a full publisher and media-production company. By then I had three novels already published, so when I got the rights back, I took them to FIG, which encouraged me to write more. Writing for print was always a side thing for me. It seems to have become that again, as I spend my non-FIG time composing music, intending to record an album of my own. A car wreck in November fractured both hands in twelve places, and both hands now have permanent damage, but I’m learning to play again with a thumb that won’t bend and a little finger that won’t fit next to the other fingers. I’m making it work. Watch for that album next year!

How difficult was it writing your first book?

Well, not at all. One of my B.A.s is English Language & Literature (Michigan), so I’ve long studied the art. I did make some mistakes with POV in my first few books, but my new agent explained some things I was missing, and I went on to study POV quite a bit (and wrote a how-to on it!), so I’m feeling good about my skills there now. “First book” sort of assumes the first of many similar, but in my case every new book project (except a series) is intentionally written in a very different style than I’ve used before. That’s the fun for me, developing a new voice and new methods. That means some have been more difficult than others, depending on what I was stretching into.

Have you ever wanted to give up and what stopped you?

Not give up, no. I’m tenacious and would rather find five readers who get what I’m saying than a thousand who really don’t. With me it’s more of interests shifting. The only writing I’m doing right now is scripts, blurbs, etc. for FIG-author projects, focusing mostly on composing music. However, I have an out-of-print series that I’m editing and updating, so I’m still working on my own novels. I’m really thinking about ramping up FIG’s video production (had a meeting about equipment today) and maybe exploring short-fiction videos for YouTube and other outlets. I would script those myself or work on scripts with Beem Weeks, FIG’s chief video producer.

Who is the most supportive of you and your dream to be a writer?

For “supportive,” there are many, but I’ll narrow it to Beem here at FIG. He’s the only one I trust to run my stories by. If the word is “encouraging,” I’d say the occasional fan note or posted review where the reader really got what I was doing and appreciated it. I’ve never had a bad review. I could cite a bunch of examples but check out Peacekeeper’s review of my Papala Skies. How could a review like that NOT encourage an author?

Anything specific you want to tell your readers?

My biggest guiding principle has been using stories or essays to “say something.” There’s nothing wrong with a rip-roarer about catching the bad guy or exacting revenge or escaping the beast, but my stories all try to say something I consider important about human nature, life, values, relationships, and more. Of course, that means it’s mostly what I prefer to read—any genre but make a point with nuance and style.

What is the best advice given to you (book or otherwise), and by whom?

I’ve thought about this my whole life, and I’ve collected (but really need to write down) a couple of dozen examples of life-altering advice for which I will always be grateful. Most relevant to being an author: I was at Michigan doing a B.A. in psych but also taking extra lit classes because I was there were world-class experts were at my disposal. The head of the English Department approached me and said he normally doesn’t sponsor students unless someone really impresses him, and would I like him to be my sponsor—the staffer in charge of guiding my academic path. I thanked him but said I’m not planning an English concentration. Disappointed, he urged me to do both. Well, that’s 154 credits in eight semesters instead of 132, a buttload of work. His advice: “It’s worth the extra work because there is nothing, no career, no path you follow that will not be more successful if you are also an excellent communicator.” I did the double B.A. and an M.A. Everything I’ve done, even the public-service years, were aided by my writing and communication skills. The biggest irony? I retired from agency TV production and wound up running a publishing company where I also write books. Go figure.

What is your target audience and what aspect of your writing do you feel targets that audience?

Perceptive, literary readers. Being able to discern that the entire tale is allegory, recognizing the metaphors, appreciating the cool finesse in my POV techniques—these are my people. I can spot them in their reviews. They get it. If slasher-stalking-teens stories are your thing, I’m happy you read and enjoy and find what you like, but you’re not likely drawn to my writing. If I wrote a slasher-teens story, I’d wind up making it literary and bury all kinds of meaning in there.

Did the cover evolve the same way, or did you work with someone to make it come together for you?

At FIG we work with freelancers and stock imagery for covers, but our staff digital artist, Anik, always impresses me with his work, so I kept it in-house, him on art, me on titles and layout. The concept is based on the eponymous short story in the collection. A depressed old woman returns to the scene of her childhood happiness to commit suicide. The boy she liked back then had taught her that when you’re trying to cross the stream (or wade upstream—a metaphor), sometimes you’re going to lose your footing. You either panic and flail and drown, or you accept that it’s time to float and learn to make floating work for you. I’ve had to choose “float” many times in my life, as have all of you. So, I asked Anik to paint ME (name is on my shirt in case you’re not clear who that is) floating in an electric stream (not too literal) flowing into the distance. Anik painted the covers for your blogger’s When Angels Fly and Sammy: Hero at Age Five. With a resource like that and my own design abilities, why go anywhere else

What are you working on now? Can we get a peek, an excerpt?

Decades ago, I published the first two books in my The Fixer series, but my contract got sold to a different publisher before I finished the third book. Since then, that name has been co-opted by other books and a movie, so I’m updating them as Rich Mr. Fixx, shooting for year’s end on both releases. Fixx is Sean, a young filthy-rich socially awkward guy who lost his family and was raised by his late father’s Jamaican biz partner. Friend Foster runs their biz empires where Sean is so low-key nobody realizes the kind of money he has. Friend Marcie travels around with him checking on ways he has invested in helping people, while looking for more opportunities to make wrongs right. Thing is, the mystery of his family is related to a history of latent mystical powers that he can’t control, which leads to some very cool situations. I’m not ready to excerpt the new versions, but I’ll reveal first time ever (gasp!) the covers, which were painted by Anik and titled by me. Subscribe to our newsletter on the home page of FreshInkGroup.com for updates on their release, and to see the eventual trailers and other media associated with this project.

Any last words before we wrap things up?

I really appreciate Mary allowing me to spend this time with you. Support those indie authors you enjoy, and always leave reviews and spread the word. We could all use a little encouragement. Also, when the challenges are too deep, the current too strong, don’t be afraid to let go and float.

Book Blurb

Prepare to think as you explore these wildly disparate literary short stories by author, composer, and producer Stephen Geez. Avoiding any single genre, this collection showcases Geez’s storytelling from southern gothic to contemporary drama to coming-of-age, humor, sci-fi, and fantasy—all finessed to say something about who we are and what we seek. Some of these have been passed around enough to need a shot of penicillin, others so virgin they have never known the seductive gaze of a reader’s eyes. So when life’s currents get to pulling too hard, don’t fight it, just open the book and discover nineteen new ways of going with the flow, because NOW more than ever Comes this Time to Float.

Book Trailer

Author Blurb

Stephen Geez grew up in the Detroit suburbs during the American-auto domination. He earned his undergraduate and master’s degrees at the University of Michigan—Ann Arbor. He retired from scripting/producing television and composing/producing television music, then expanded his small literary management firm into indie-publisher and multi-media company Fresh Ink Group. Now he works from a deck overlooking the lake in north Alabama, helping other writers share their compelling narratives with the world.

Contact Stephn Geez: https://freshinkgroup.com/contact-fig/

Website with Embedded WordPress Blog: https://stephengeez.com/

Fresh Ink Group Pages: https://freshinkgroup.com/author/stephengeez/

Geez’s Writers Website: https://geezwriter.com/

Author Services Website: https://GeezandWeeks.com/

Twitter: @StephenGeez

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GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/search?q=stephen+geez&qid=Qcrc5mdNBr

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Stephen-Geez/e/B004SC5NNU?ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1&qid=1656884649&sr=8-1

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/%22Stephen%20Geez%22?Ntk=P_key_Contributor_List&Ns=P_Sales_Rank&Ntx=mode+matchall

From Amazon: During the first winter of the twentieth century, Gilded Age trouser diva Ella Shane refuses to dim the lights on her dazzling show business career for marriage—even to a dashing British duke. But the versatile mezzo-soprano may have to put it all on the line once murder takes centerstage.
New York City, 1900. Renowned opera singer and theatre company owner Ella may have both much to gain and much to lose by getting engaged to her courtly long-distance love, Gil Saint Auburn. But there’s little time for romance or resolutions with Gil’s aristocratic mother and aunts visiting Greenwich Village—especially when the ladies discover a dead man in the bathtub of their hotel suite. The victim’s disturbing background and subsequent demise at the elegant Waverly Place Hotel leave the group puzzled beyond the obvious certainty of an unnatural death. Adding to the confusion and mounting fear, danger explodes through Ella’s close-knit circle after a friend makes a stunning confession and Gil becomes a fresh target for violence. Now, with a London tour run fast approaching, prenuptial worries weighing heavily on her heart, and an intricate Joan of Arc aria to rehearse, can Ella decide what she’s willing to sacrifice before confronting a relentless criminal bent on watching her entire life go up in smoke?

My Review: Third time is the charm, although with this novel, books one and two were also charms themselves. The villain was carefully woven in such a way that I simply didn’t consider him the villain until down to the final fourth of this novel. Enough on that, though. If you like romance, stage productions, humor, swashbuckling divas, a handsome duke, and devine teas and meals, as well as murder from the beginning, this five star book is for you.