Beem Weeks's Blog - Posts Tagged "fresh-ink-group"

First Novel Confronts Old Friend Losing His Mind
Retired Attorney and Non-fiction Writer Robert Scott Releases First Novel: Two Friends, Too Old. Lifelong Pals Face One’s Mental Decline and Dangerous Violence While the Other Makes Tough Choices.

Publisher Fresh Ink Group announces the release of retired attorney and non-fiction writer Robert “Robbie” Scott’s first novel: Two Friends, Too Old. Frank is a 65-year-old enjoying his golden years until he finds old friend Clay savagely beating his own dog, the first symptom of a dangerous spiral into creeping dementia and unprovoked bursts of horrific violence. Frank’s wife, Lucille, adapts to aging with quiet grace, unaware of any threat Clay might pose to her family. Dirt-poor farmer Will strives for simple dignity in coping with his own wife’s terminal illness—until he crosses paths with Clay at his very worst. Pharmacist Matt knows risky psychotropic drugs might help Clay, but Frank figures Clay will resist, so he makes potentially tragic choices about what to do and how much to say.

The Two Friends characters are each conflicted by multiple motives, author Scott explains. “If one motive is good and the other is bad, is that character a good person or a bad person?” The story is grounded in friendship, even as it explores the darker edges of aging and growing dangerously selfish. It looks at how fate shapes our lives, and the consequences of lies, even told for the best of reasons.
“I was planning to write a light short story about two old friends spending a day with one granddaughter,” Scott explains, “but then the story turned dark, and I began to develop characters around that theme.” Indeed, Frank desperately wants to prevent what seems inevitable, but as sweet little Shelley gets caught in the middle, her grandfather’s options narrow and everybody runs out of time.

At 67, Robert Scott had to squeeze writing his first novel into an active outdoors lifestyle. Living in North Central Washington State, he spends much of his time adventurously, including skiing back-country and paddling rivers as far away as Oregon, British Columbia, the Arctic, and even Cambodia. After a long law career immersed in telling “the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth” plus writing law-review articles and non-fiction for an on-line magazine, he enjoyed “unshackling myself from facts to venture into the realm of fiction.”

Scott cites Theodore Dreiser’s novel An American Tragedy and the Mike Nichols film based on Edward Albee’s play Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? as inspiration for this taut tale of conflicting loyalties and the consequences of secrets as means to an uncertain end. He hopes the story resonates with people over 65, and those with family and friends approaching the years where issues of aging catch many by surprise.

Scott looks forward to hearing from readers sharing thoughts on Two Friends, Too Old or their own experiences and stories. Contact him through his pages at http://www.freshinkgroup.com/authors/..., or through his Facebook and Twitter accounts. “If nobody likes what I wrote,” Scott quips, “maybe I’ll take up another profession—like long-haul trucking.”

Published by Fresh Ink Group, Two Friends, Too Old (ISBN: 978-1-936442-11-9) is a 128-page perfect-bound trade paper edition cover-priced at $9.70. Find it worldwide through all major e-tailers and print distributors. E-book editions are available on major platforms such as Kindle and Nook for $6.30.

Fresh Ink Group is an imprint of The Fresh Ink Group, LLC, a multi-media publisher and collective of authors, artists, and content experts who work together to help enhance, produce, and promote each other’s best work. Fresh Ink Group offers myriad streams of author support and how-to guidance such as the GeezWriter.com writers’ community, plus newsletters and more. Contact Fresh Ink Group at (817) 488-1448, info@FreshInkGroup.com, or P.O. Box 525, Roanoke, TX 76262.
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This short story collection from publisher Fresh Ink Group showcases an amazing array of talent by indie authors from across the globe. These wonderful newcomers to the world of published authors waste little time in building the foundations of what will certainly be entertaining and successful writing careers.

There are 42 stories contained in the collection, each a winning or runner-up entry from FIG’s annual short story contests. Genres dip into the worlds of Fantasy/Sci-Fi, Humor, Literary, Horror, Hope, Suspense, and more.

The skill level of the authors is consistently impressive. Writers from Canada, India, Japan, and numerous American states, lend their talents to the world of storytelling with unique and fresh new voices.

Writers Holly Riordan, Talya Tate Boerner, and Anna Cates lead the way with 4 winning entries apiece. Another name to watch for is Jasper Grawl, whose novel Valhalla is available from Fresh Ink Group. Grawl has mastered the art of satire with his 1st Place Humor winner “The Big Prologue.”
Each story in the collection is taut and skillfully executed. For those who enjoy great short fiction, this is a book you’ll want on your shelf or on your Kindle.

http://www.amazon.com/Fresh-Group-Sho...

Okay, so Jazz Baby has a brand new cover. Why the change? Well, to be honest, I hated the original cover—hated it with a passion. Everything I had hoped it would be fell well short of the original vision I saw for my first novel. I had intended for the image to convey a feel for the era in which the story unfolds. It failed miserably.

There are elements of the original cover that were in line with what I envisioned. Unfortunately, the main image came off as cartoonish and amateurish. This detracted from the story itself. I recall a few readers mentioning that cover as a hurdle they had to overcome when deciding to purchase the book. How many others chose to pass on it?

So here it is, with its brand new cover, spine, and back cover. We also cleaned up the few typos that slipped past the editorial process. It’s a fresh new day for Jazz Baby.

A very special thank you to Fresh Ink Group for creating this amazing new cover.

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Jazz-Baby-Beem-...

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/jazz-...

Introducing the brand new video book trailer for Jazz Baby. This video is produced by Fresh Ink Group. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k9HyH...

In the years since Jazz Baby first saw publication, some readers have been curious as to what happened to Emily Ann “Baby” Teegarten. Did she ever make it to New York? Were her dreams of singing jazz professionally ever realized? Did she find success? Well, presented here, is an interview with Baby Teegarten, which takes place ten years after the novel ends. This is meant to be a glimpse into the life our protagonist may have created for herself.

THE INTERVIEW

Monday, April 15, 1935

She chose the meeting place. I could lie and tell you readers that I arrived thirty minutes early just to get a feel for the room. But the truth of the matter is, I get a little nervous with this one. Most of you have been reading my column for the better part of 15 years. You know the names that have graced my page: Babe Ruth, Harry Houdini, Clara Bow, Harold Lloyd—even Charlie Chaplin agreed to a sit-down chat back in 1924.

Still, this one is different.

The she I’m referring to is popular jazz vocalist Baby Teegarten. They don’t come any bigger than Baby these days. Three consecutive years as the country’s highest-paid entertainer proves this fact.

I lock down a table at the rear of McSorley’s Tavern on East 7th Street—which also happens to hold a strict policy for not allowing women inside.

But Baby Teegarten, well, she’s not just any woman.

“This is her neighborhood,” the fellow tending bar tells me. “She has a swanky place overlooking Central Park. Bought it from Babe Ruth himself.”

It’s the Babe who introduced Baby to McSorley’s.

“Nobody bothers her in here,” the barkeep explains. “Besides, if she’s pals with the Babe, she’s all right by us.”

I knock back a Scotch and soda. It’s what steadies my nerves. Only Mae West ever had me taking a nip before an interview.

I’ve seen Baby perform a dozen times easily—this going back to those first shows she did at Swelby’s Joint. Two thousand patrons lined up every night just to witness the Baby. She’d been just shy of her fourteenth birthday back in those early shows. But any fool with eyes and ears could tell she was special.

Oh, sure, we all recall the backlash at allowing a mere child up on those club stages. But nobody could—or would—stand in that girl’s way. No, sir. She’d have busted any full-grown man in the chops, should one be so bold as to try.

Prompt, this one. She arrives at 3 o’clock sharp, with her entourage in tow. By entourage I mean her manager, Abe Horowitz, and Job Pritchett, husband of Baby.

Mr. Pritchett, he’s a large fellow, to be sure. Tall and wide; real sturdy; the sort of man who likely spent his youth throwing bales of hay around the farm, maybe even punching cows—literally. Hollywood handsome: blond hair worn messy, pale blue eyes, an easy laugh. He’s more threatening than threatened. Famous in his own right, he’s known the world over for his paintings and sculptures.

Baby is a true vision, greeting patrons by name up by the front door. She’s resplendent in a violet-colored summer dress that falls just below her knees. Diamonds sparkle on her fingers and wrists, her ears, at her delicate throat. There’s even a gold bracelet on her right ankle.

Eyes as green as emeralds track me down in my corner.

There’s a subtle sweetness in her scent.

Lilacs.

“Hey, there,” she says. “I’m supposed to talk with you today?”

I’m lost for words in this moment, so I just nod like a mute fool.

“You don’t mind it here, do you?” Her accent is rich, wrapping her every word in a southern twang thicker than molasses—and just as sweet.

My voice carries a slight tremble, but I manage a quick, “No, ma’am.”

Baby Teegarten settles on a bar stool next to mine. “This is Mister Pritchett, my husband,” she says.

Job Pritchett’s massive hand takes mine with a gentle squeeze. “Good to meet you,” he tells me in a boyish tone. A lucky fellow, this one.

Abe Horowitz needs no introduction: Club owner, manager of a handful of singers and musicians. Connected. He mined gold when he discovered Baby Teegarten.

Job’s lips brush Baby’s lips. His voice comes soft, almost a soothing thing. “Me and Abe will be up at the bar—if you need us.”

It passes there in the space between them: his subtle caress of her cheek, her gentle squeeze of his hand. These two are infatuated with one another.

“Lord a-mercy, I love that boy,” she says, once we’re alone. “We got our tenth anniversary coming this summer.” She waves her right hand in my face. “He just got me this one right here.”

She means the full carat diamond set in white gold on her ring finger.

“What does it feel like to make more money than the president of the United States?” I ask, leading us into the interview.

Her petite shoulders give up a shrug. “Just means I can buy whatever I want—’Cept Jobie’s the one buys my jewelry. That boy makes nearly as much as me.”

She’s a tiny thing, maybe five foot two. I’m guessing it might take an extra big lunch to push her past a hundred pounds. And though she doesn’t mention it, this day is her twenty-third birthday.

I ask, “When did you first start singing?”

“Since I can recollect. Pastor Pritchett first had me up in front of the congregation when I was just five. That’s when I took to singing for other folks who ain’t just my kin.”

“Mississippi, right?”

Her head tips a short nod. “Down Rayford—up a piece from Biloxi.”

“A Delta girl, huh? You pick cotton down there?”

A silver cigarette case finds her hand. “Picked a bunch. Mister Kuiper used to pay me a dime for each sack I managed. I made a dollar a day most days.”

“Doesn’t sound like much.”

“It does to a little girl ain’t got much of nothin’.”

A Lucky Strike settles between her lips. Smoke rolls from her dainty nose.

Questions my editor suggested filter through the small talk. “You’re working a lot with George Gershwin. How’d that come about?”

“Georgie’s sweet,” she says, sending smoke rings chasing after her words. “His family knows Mister Horowitz’s family. He liked my voice and wrote some songs for me—’Cept I’m the one writes the words, since I’m the one has to sing ’em.”

Sales figures wedge their way into the conversation—nobody sells more phonograph records than Baby Teegarten.

“A million,” she offers. Says it as if she doesn’t really believe it herself. “I mean, a person can reach into his pocket, grab a hundred of something, and toss it on the floor and say, ‘Yep. That’s a hundred.’ But nobody can throw a million anything on the floor and count that.”

She’s had three of them reach that plateau in recent years.

“Where’s your favorite place to play?” I ask, scratching off another one from my editor.

“Paris is nice.” Her hand gives up an abbreviated wave, catching the barkeep’s attention. “What’s so amazing there is, those folks don’t speak no English, but they sure know all the words to my songs.”

A bottle arrives at our table. Not exactly what I expected.

“Co-cola,” she says, drawing a long pull. “Mister Horowitz don’t like for me to drink liquor while I’m gabbing with newspaper fellas. He says I just might talk too much.”

I feign shock. “Secrets?”

There’s an endearing sweetness in her giggle. “Oh, I got plenty of secrets.”

“Horowitz really looks after you, huh?”

“He’s the best. Like a second daddy. Doesn’t let anybody get close enough to take advantage.”

She spends a lot of time on the road, traveling by train, singing in places like Chicago, Detroit, Cleveland, St. Louis, and Kansas City. Big theaters, is where she sings these days. Gone are the smoke-filled clubs with dance floors and drunken revelers.

“I like the theaters,” she says. “And I really like seeing different places. But I do miss the New York clubs. I could do two shows a night and be at home with Mister Pritchett by one in the morning. Now, I do one show for five thousand people—nobody drinking or dancing—a night at a hotel, then up before the devil and off to the train station and the next city.”

There’s a weary tone creeping into her answers. Well, maybe weary isn’t the right word. Cautious, perhaps.

“Do you ever take time off? Maybe stay home for a while?”

She does—but only because the men in her life force her to do so.

“Once Mister Pritchett and Mister Horowitz get together, they’re worse than two fathers.”

Baby Teegarten will soon add actress to her resume. She just this week signed to play a role in a new James Cagney movie.

“It’s only a small part,” she explains. “I play a singer in a jazz club. I’ll sing two new songs they wrote just for the film.”

“Any lines?”

Just one. But that’s fine by her. “I ain’t no movie star.”

No, she’s not. But that doesn’t stop the real movie stars from turning out wherever Baby Teegarten treads a stage. It’s fashionable to be seen at her shows.

“Jean Harlow got my autograph last summer in Chicago.” She says it like it’s a normal thing that happens to most people.

“How’d you come to be friendly with Babe Ruth?”

That shrug raises her shoulders again. “He came to my shows most nights he was in town—back when I still played the clubs. Once he decided to buy a house in the country, I bought his apartment.”

“I guess that makes you a Yankees fan, huh?”

It’s a playful thing, that sideways glance she throws at me. “Ain’t no self-respecting Mississippi girl gonna ever cheer on no Yankees.”

Abe Horowitz’s approach signals a wrap to our discussion. I’d been promised twenty minutes, Baby gave me thirty.

“Gotta get ready for the trip to Hollywood,” she says, gaining her feet.

She offers a handshake, which abruptly becomes a friendly hug.

Job Pritchett, arm around Baby’s waist, sweeps the girl away, following Abe Horowitz out the front door, into the crowd moving along 7th Street.

It takes a few moments for my head to clear itself of her scent, her voice, her very presence. It’s not a difficult thing to see why so many have fallen for this lovely young woman.

“She just has a way about her,” the barkeep says as I make my getaway.

She certainly does, I tell myself. She certainly does.

Sliver of Life: A Collection of Short Stories is now available for just .99 on Kindle for a limited time. Grab a copy before it's over!

"There is no time to lose when crafting a short story. In order to hook the reader, the author must instantly bring the narrator's voice to life and create a compelling drama. In each of the "Slivers", Beem Weeks plunges us into an intimate emotional encounter faster than Alice down the rabbit hole."--S. Rose, author of Bridge Ices Before Road

These twenty short stories are a peek into individual lives caught up in spectacular moments in time. Children, teens, mothers, and the elderly each have stories to share. Readers witness tragedy and fulfillment, love and hate, loss and renewal. Historical events become backdrops in the lives of ordinary people, those souls forgotten with the passage of time. Beem Weeks tackles diverse issues running the gamut from Alzheimer’s disease to civil rights, abandonment to abuse, from young love to the death of a child. Long-hidden secrets and notions of revenge unfold at the promptings of rich and realistic characters; plot lines often lead readers into strange and dark corners. Within Slivers of Life, Weeks proves that everybody has a story to tell—and no two are ever exactly alike.

Slivers Of Life

Book Trailer

Strange Hwy

Fresh Ink Group is pleased to announce the release of Strange Hwy: Short Stories by Beem Weeks. This collection of short stories makes a perfect Christmas gift for the reader in your life.


Strange Hwy: Short Stories is available in full-sized trade paperback, dust-jacketed hardcover, and all ebook formats. You can purchase Strange Hwy: Short Stories at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iBooks, Google Books, and many other online retailers.

Whether you’re into horror, historical fiction, coming of age, or slice of life stories, this collection has something for you.



Blurb:
If you ever find yourself on the Strange Hwy—don’t turn around. Don’t panic. Just. Keep. Going. You never know what you’ll find.
You’ll see magic at the fingertips of an autistic young man,
•A teen girl’s afternoon, lifetime of loss.
•A winged man, an angel? Demon—?
•Mother’s recognition, peace to daughter.
•Danny’s death, stifled secrets.
•Black man’s music, guitar transforms boy.
•Dead brother, open confession.
•First love, supernatural?—family becomes whole!
You can exit the Strange Hwy, and come back any time you want.
See, now you know the way in, don’t be a stranger.

Sammy Hero At Age Five by M. Schmidt

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


This is the true story of a five year old boy named Sammy. Though Sammy is the story’s narrator, it is told through the eyes of his mother and older brother. Sammy had cancer, the disease he succumbed to at age five.

The first part of the story shares insight into the daily life of a typical American family, detailing the goings-on with Sammy, his brother, and his mother. Readers get to know Sammy and his budding personality. Most American boys will recognize the activities of riding Big Wheels, messing with snakes, and sneaking off to forbidden areas. There are some humorous stories here, like the older brother, Gene, accidentally locking Mom out of the house. A neighbor had to bring a ladder, allowing Mom to climb in through the attic to unlock the door.

The second part is entitled Cancer Arrived. Sammy began to be sick—all the time. Sinus infections, inner and middle ear infections, mononucleosis, and upper respiratory disease took over Sammy’s body. Doctors couldn’t pinpoint a cause and medicines didn’t clear things up. A radiologist even misread the x-ray. Because of this, he missed the tumor mass in Sammy’s neck and head. The cancer diagnosis left the family reeling. No parent wants to hear that awful disease pronounced on their child. The battle against Rhabdomyosarcoma became a family fight.

To a young boy, this would be a scary situation to be in. Sammy certainly had those moments. But what we learn from this personal story is the wisdom and courage this boy gained in his all-too-brief time in this world. While cancer is a dark subject, this book is anything but dark. I found in these pages a celebration of a life that is still touching others, even nearly thirty years after his departure. As long as his mother, brother, family, and friends are here in this world, Sammy will be here too.




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The ABC's of Surviving Cancer: Alive, Beautiful, & Courageous by Tammy Trover

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


Author Tammy Trover is a cancer survivor. She knows first hand the energy and strength it takes to wage war against this insidious disease. In The ABC's of Surviving Cancer, Trover shares her wisdom and experiences that come from her own hard-fought battle. This book is written as an encouragement for children (and adults) who are facing their own fight. The story is told with the help of Cornelius the Cancer Fighting Crocodile. Each letter of the alphabet represents steps taken in the battle. (A is for Alive, that's what I am.)

Tammy Trover is able to take cancer out of the darkness and into the light, making the battle a little easier for youngsters — and older people as well — while sharing her own personal story. This book, with the beautiful illustrations, is designed to encourage and strengthen in the face of uncertainty. And that's exactly what it accomplishes. If you are struggling in the battle or know somebody who is, I highly recommend this book.





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The Hippo Campus: The Interactive Brain Book: Fun Learning for Science Lovers by Helen Borel

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


Dr. Helen Borel, PhD, knows more than a little something about the human brain and the way it works. She has made a career out of studying and diagnosing issues within this incredible organ. In The Hippo Campus, Dr. Helen shares her knowledge with readers ages 8 to 98.

The book is interactive, touching on such subjects as Your Amazing Brain, Imagine This. . .How We Imagine, What Your Brain Does For You. . .And With You, Meet Your Left Brain and Your Right Brain, and so much more.

Written from a true perspective of knowledge, The Hippo Campus educates readers on brain function, how and where emotions come into play, which parts of the brain perform its various functions, and brings it all to life with beautiful illustrations. The information is shared in a manner that allows for children to easily understand, while not talking down to adults.

Youngsters and adults alike can learn a lot about the human brain from this book. The perfect gift for summer break, birthdays, and just because!



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