Archive for the ‘Recommended Reading’ Category

 

Book Details:

Book Title: Journey’s End: Death, Dying and the End of Life
Authors: Victoria Brewster & Julie Saeger Nierenberg
Category: Adult Non-Fiction; 558 pages
Genre: Resource/Educational
Publisher: Xlibris
Release date: July 20, 2017
Tour dates: Sept 4 to 22, 2017
Content Rating: PG-13 + M
Book Description:

In Journey’s End, we write about death, dying, and end of life issues. We attempt to define and describe these real-life circumstances, and we discuss ways to proactively deal with them. Multiple personal and professional perspectives provide valuable insights.

What is dying like for dying persons, for loved ones, and for those who lend support in the process? Each experience will have unique qualities. Everyone dies in his own way, on his own schedule. While we explore the dying process, we make no assumptions about how any particular death will unfold.

Grief and bereavement support, training tools, and educational resources are included.

 
Meet the Authors:

Victoria has a master of social work degree. She has worked as a case manager with older adults for the past seventeen years and as a group facilitator. Her past work experience was as a therapist with children and families, and as a case manager for adults with mental health issues. She just launched a consulting business, NorthernMSW to focus on end of life issues, planning, training, and advocacy, along with memoir writing and life legacy writing.

Julie was inspired equally by her professional backgrounds as a biomedical researcher and long time educator. Julie values open and lively discussions based on interview and research findings, trends in health and wellness, and exciting new modalities of treatment and professional education. She believes it will be through such discussions that we will create new and more satisfying cultural paradigms within which we may live all the days of our lives with dignity and quality of care.

Connect with the authors: Website ~ Facebook

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My Grandmother

by Victoria Brewster

My maternal grandmother-my memories of her are when I was older. I do not remember her from when I was young. She was a widow and supported my mother and uncle by herself. I never met my maternal grandfather.

I was nine when she moved to Florida, so what I remember of her is from then on. She went to Florida to help take care of my great-grandmother.

I have fond memories of​ visiting with her the summer I turned thirteen when I flew by myself to spend two weeks with her. It was a great vacation! I remember visiting the beach, buying milkshakes, and her teaching me about homeopathy.

My grandmother and I wrote each other often, and even as the years went by, we still wrote one another until she became very ill. We spoke by telephone for birthdays, holidays, and for Mother’s Day sent cards to each other.

When I married, she was unable to travel for the wedding so my (then) husband and I spent two days with her before we went on our honeymoon to show her our wedding video and to visit with her.

When her first great-granddaughter was born, I went with my parents to Florida so they could meet one another. A few months later, my husband at the time and I along with our daughter went down to Florida to say goodbye.

My grandmother was in hospice.

It was difficult, but something I had to do. I needed to see her and say goodbye.

She was buried in New York State when she had lived most of her life. I remember choosing a special poem to read at her funeral, but then the time came, I could not read it. I was too overwhelmed with grief and sadness. My brother ended up reading the poem.

I miss her, but I cherish the photograph that was taken when my oldest was eleven months old of four generations of females together, my grandmother, my mother, my daughter, and myself-memories not to be forgotten.

 

 

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Non-fiction – Mental Health
Date Published: August 16, 2017
Publisher: Rowman & Littlefield
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Beyond ADHD weaves Emmerson’s personal story of his ADHD diagnosis, exploring along the way the latest medical, scientific and societal explanations and tools for managing and living with the condition. Including interviews with a number of experts at the forefront of next-generation ADHD diagnostics and treatment, he questions the cookie-cutter way ADHD is commonly diagnosed and treated. Suggesting that the list of symptoms often used to identify ADHD can be attributed to many other disorders and conditions, he explores how and why ADHD diagnoses have increased by 50% in the last ten years.
Emmerson advocates a different approach to ADHD, arguing that it should be a diagnosis of exclusion rather than the other way around, and that we must look past the label, recognizing that individual symptoms vary and treatment plans should be better tailored to the individual. He examines mental and behavioral issues from all sides, including the possibility that nurturing – rather than trying to alter or suppress – the active, “360-degree” mind is a viable way for those diagnosed with ADHD to realize their gifts and lead purposeful lives.
 
About the Authors

AUTHOR BIO: Jeff Emmerson
From the depths of mental despair to one of social media’s premier spokespeople for mental health issues, Jeff Emmerson is a veritable “Rocky” in the field. Jeff has written for and been interviewed by some of the world’s top online magazines regarding Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), including Everyday Health (featured on AOL Health) and Additudemag. He also enjoys one of the world’s largest social media followings for a non-medical professional on the subject, with more than half a million Twitter followers and a video blog (YouTube Channel) that includes more than 200 different postings on various aspects of ADHD. Many of the top medical experts in the field, as well as specialists in behavioral therapy, vision therapy and neuroscience, regularly post and correspond with him as part of their collective goal: finding a path beyond today’s ADHD “epidemic”. Some share their perspectives in Beyond ADHD.
Born and raised in Ontario, Canada, Emmerson began speaking publicly to raise awareness of ADHD and mental health issues in 2011, following a suicide attempt and resulting ADHD diagnosis. (Three years earlier, he had lost his brother Ryan to suicide). In 2013, after another bout of suicidal ideation, he focused more greatly on his higher purpose, took to social media channels and began blogging to reach an even larger audience. He also took out an old manuscript he had written about his life, which further developed into Beyond ADHD.
Emmerson is a passionate advocate for mental health, and fostering a deeper understanding beyond the accepted symptoms that have led to more than 30 million North Americans taking ADHD medication. He seeks to come up with solutions that return society to a place of compassion, humanity, community and empathy. This perspective forms the structure of Beyond ADHD.
Emmerson will be embarking on a public speaking and signing tour in Fall 2017 to draw greater awareness to the diagnostic and societal issues of ADHD, to create greater public discourse in North America and worldwide, and to roll out the many forward-thinking solutions that he and many of the world’s foremost experts on behavioral, mental health and neurological issues and conditions have been discussing and beginning to utilize.
Jeff and his wife, Aimee, Founder & CEO of a globally recognized digital marketing firm, make their home in Ontario, Canada. He was a star youth hockey player in Canada for many years, and later, worked as a security guard and in various positions.
His website can be found at http://www.JeffEmmerson.com.

ABOUT CO-AUTHOR ROBERT YEHLING
 
Co-Author and Independent Publisher Book Award winner Robert Yehling is the author of 12 books and the co-author or ghostwriter of eight others. Beyond ADHD is his second co-authored book in the mental health field, following on the heels of Just Add Water (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt), the biography of autistic surfing star Clay Marzo, which was a finalist for the 2015 Dolly Gray Literature Award. His new novel, Voices (Open Books Press) is one of the most anticipated music-themed novels of 2017. Other titles include The Champion’s Way and When We Were The Boys. Celebrating 40 years as a professional journalist and author in 2017, Yehling is also a five-time Boston marathoner and the head cross country coach at Carlsbad (CA) High School, his alma mater.
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About the Book

Title: The Sanguinarian Id

Author: L.M. Labat

Artist: L.M. Labat

Genre: Horror, Historical Fiction, Paranormal, Occult, Gothic Horror

Publisher: Night to Dawn Magazine & Books

 

She’s been beaten, stabbed, poisoned, and shot, but Hael refuses to die. In her pursuit for vengeance and her origin, the Dhampir Hael hunts down the madman responsible for her fateful transformation. As this half-vampire juggernauts her way through a world at war, Hael battles hordes of Nazi soldiers as she struggles to maintain her sanity. However, while Hael gathers knowledge on how to trap and kill her target, her adversary’s network is expanding at an exponential rate, as his sick obsession with Hael grows deeper. Will she have her revenge? Will she find her origin? Or, will she crumble beneath her own insidious bloodlust?

Author Bio

Born in 1993, L. M. Labat stems from New Orleans, Louisiana. From the struggles of a broken family and surviving life-threatening events, Labat found refuge within the arts while delving into the fields of medicine, psychology, and the occult. While combining illustration and literature, L. M. Labat was able to cope with endless nightmares as well as hone in on artistic techniques. From confronting the past to facing new shadows, this author gladly invites audiences into the horror of The Sanguinarian Id.

 


Links

The Sanguinarian Id Website

Website Creator: L. M. Labat

https://thesanguinarianid.com/

Night to Dawn Magazine & Books Website:

http://bloodredshadow.com/night-to-dawn-magazine-and-books/l-m-labat/

The Sanguinarian Id on Amazon.com:  

https://www.amazon.com/Sanguinarian-Id-L-M-Labat/dp/1937769445

The Sanguinarian Id on Barnes & Noble:

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-sanguinarian-id-l-m-labat/1123257469


Artwork by the Author:


Book Excerpts

Book Excerpt 1:

Within Europe’s late nineteenth century, marvelous medical miracles came into existence that augmented the intellectual to new horizons. Doctors of all fields were admired for their dedication to health and humanity. However, as their accolades increased, these professionals grew fat with entitlement while their patients starved for love. With speedy developments, the human brain, in its entire splendor, spiraled dangerously into the new era of indulgences that forked the path between masterpiece and monstrosity. **** A group of young women sat on the cold floor. In dirty hospital gowns, they picked and ingested lead paint chips from the wall. Persistently, they crammed more debris into their hungry mouths. Drool covered their cracked fingernails. With muted expressions, the nurses smoked like locomotives at their corridor stations. They watched the self-poisoning, but did nothing to help. The nurses reacted solely when the clock struck seven. The chimes notified them to administer the medication. In the joining corridor, more patients wandered aimlessly. Whimpering like beaten dogs, most patients wore restraints over their mouths and arms. Others fiddled with their gowns as they stumbled from side to side. No matter what they were doing, the inhabitants complemented each other with the same dead-eyed stare against the barred windows. The doctors were devils. They prodded, scraped, and teased the flesh with their instruments. Like foxes, the doctors lured people into their examination rooms with wide-toothed grins and false promises. None of them were in harmony with their patients. These mechanized madmen were fluent with their hands and calculations. Their utensils were never bare. These men constantly wrapped their fingers around their equipment’s silvery curves. They comforted the metal exteriors like newborn children. The wives of these doctors had sullen lives, wishing their husbands would caress their thighs the way they did their clipboards. The patients knew no humanity. The kind gazes they saw reflected off foggy spectacles before the serum blacked out their minds. That was if they were lucky enough to have the straps off their foreheads. This was Halcyon Asylum.

 

Book Excerpt 2:

The leader of the group yelled and charged at Hael with a dagger. He stabbed her in the back. She fell to the ground. Over and over again, he stabbed his blade deep into her torso. Hael roared in fury. She grabbed the severed limb and brained the leader. When the severed arm gave way, Hael buried her claws into his skull, and gouged his head wide open. Brain matter and blood splattered across her face. Her entire body became a walking nightmare of black and red.  She heard the horses go wild in the distance. The coach-man desperately tried to mount one of the horses, but the beast was too frightened to stand still. Hael walked over to the coachman. The front horse saw Hael from the corner of its eye, and reared its back legs frantically. The horse’s hoof clocked the coachman in the chest and sent him plummeting to the ground. His flask flew out of his pocket. The coachman held his beaten torso and coughed violently. A twig snapped in front of him. He looked up. Hael looked down upon him. Her body was still, but the red of her iris swirled like hellfire. The coachman sobbed and pleaded for his life. Hael looked at the carriage. “Where were you going to bring me?” she asked him.  “Please, don’t kill me,” he cried.

Hael rammed her heel down onto his hand. His bones broke through his skin upon impact. She repeated herself. “Where were you going to bring me?” Her voice was calm and authoritative.  “To the docks,” he answered.  “Why the docks?” she asked. “We were supposed to bring you and some others to the docks, and place you all on a boat bound for France.”  “Why France?”  “I don’t know,” he answered. “That’s all Mendelson wrote to us. I swear it!”  “Do you have the instructions?” she asked. The coach-man nodded. He reached into his back pocket and handed her an envelope. She read postage marks. The letter came from Germany. “What others?” she asked. The coachman said that there were other women that they collected during the week to bring to the docks. Hael was a surprise adjustment to the original list. He stated that after the delivery was made, they were instructed to burn the letter. She gave the letter back to him. “Thank you.” She walked over to the flask and unscrewed the top.  The coachman shuddered. “What are you doing?” “Following instructions.” She poured the liquor over his body. “Stop! I told you what you wanted to know.”  “Yes, you did.” Hael picked up a stone from the grass. She held it firmly in her hand. “And, I said, ‘Thank you.’” She struck her nails against the stone. Sparks flew off her claws and ignited the liquor. The coachman screamed as his body writhed within the flames.

 

Book Excerpt 3:

The majority of the women held captive by Mendelson were between the ages of eighteen to thirty-nine years old, and labeled missing to the general public. The victims’ bodies were found during scattered times of the year. The bodies were either discreetly hidden, or placed directly in the center of the stadt from where they came. All of the women were reported to be sexually assaulted, battered, or starved. The numbers of men who were taken from their families by Mendelson were never seen or heard from again.  Hael turned the page. “Abducted children and infants were brought back at separate times, unharmed, to either their families or the nearest local officials. As a whole, the children neither recall where they were held captive, nor can they give details about Mendelson’s appearance. None of the children were sexually assaulted in any matter or form. However, all of the returned children experienced seizures and night terrors at random.” Mendelson’s family once held a highly decorated position in the German military during the early 1800s. After the fire of their family mansion in Frankfurt, the residence was converted to the orphanage Das Männlein Waisenhaus in 1823. Das Männlein Waisenhaus was currently shut down. No photographs or sketches of Mendelson were documented. A few traces of fingerprints, semen, saliva, and skin particles were found on the corpses of eighteen-year-old women and older. The total numbers of people kidnapped by Mendel-son over a seventeen year period were: one hundred and seven women between the ages of eighteen to thirty-nine years old, fifty-eight men above the age of eighteen, twenty-nine female children, and twelve male children.

Hael dropped her lighter. The flame extinguished on the rocky floor. The horrendous sights Hael witnessed were inexhaustible, but the photographs and descriptions of Mendelson’s victims made her vomit. Their bodies were bruised and broken. The women found in the woods had their pelvic bones crushed, and their legs permanently bent. Their necks and wrists were badly discolored from rope burn, and their breasts were purpled with bruises. Their backs were either concaved or arched with their stomachs split open.  Hael turned her face to the ground, and retched every-where. From the pictures, she heard the groaning victims. Their bloodshot eyes, broken bones, and gray skin were nothing com-pared to the way their bodies lay open like stockpots holding their mangled organs.

 

Book Excerpt 4:

The area was a deluge. Hael watched the pond swell as the water engulfed more and more of the bank. “If you keep stalling, you’re going to drown!” she shouted. “Let me pull you up!” Air bubbles popped alongside the boulder’s surface. The man shuddered at the sound. He looked behind him. “Did you hear that?” he asked. She shrugged her shoulders. “An air pocket must’ve ruptured below the mud.” She looked at the surface of the water. The mud continued to bubble. The water level rose rapidly. “Please, let me pull you up!” His eyes bulged like soup plates at the sight of the bub-bling mud. The mud stopped moving. He turned towards her. “Leave.” “What about your legs?” “Forget about my legs!” he shouted. “Just get the fuck out of here!” She ignored his statement and waded towards him. He unsheathed his Bowie knife and swung it wildly in the air. “Go away! Damn it. Go away!” he threatened.  “Are you crazy?” she shouted.  He began to cry. “Please! Just leave!” A gurgling sound erupted from beneath the water. It was deep and loud. The man gaped in fear. With his face paled to a paper white, his mouth opened and closed in horror like a dying guppy. The noise increased in volume, morphing into a horrid watery groan. He tossed his knife at her feet. She grabbed onto his arms to pull him out. The man made no effort to move. She sank her feet into the mud and pulled.  “Please! Help me help you!” He lifted his head up to her. His eyes were drenched in tears and wide with anguish. His mouth quivered sorely. “If you want to help me, heed the words of this old fool. Leave this place. Forget about me. Forget you ever came here. Forget your reason why, and get to the closest source of concrete.” He grabbed her hand. “Take the knife! Stay away from the water banks!” Those were his last words. His body was yanked underneath the boulder. The pull’s tension and the sharpness of her claws severed the man’s hand from his body. She flew backward. The severed hand fell into her lap. The air thickened with danger. She flung the hand back into the water. Something swallowed it from beneath the sur-face. Screaming, she grabbed the knife and ran from the boulders.  The hard rain loosened the soil around the trees. Roots were exposed over the ground. She bounded over them to avoid getting caught. A lightning bolt crashed in the distance. She tripped and plummeted to the banks. An exposed tree root slammed against her head when she

hit the ground. Half her face sank into mud. She nearly stumbled back into the water as she hoisted herself out of the sludge. She searched for the knife. It was lodged underneath a tree root. The mud bubbled around her feet. The ground swallowed the knife. She jumped back and ran.