My Father and I by Naguib Kerba

naguib - Books We Love Publishing Inc.

This is a Saturday morning in mid-August 2025. I find myself drawn to the keyboard and just typing away. What began as a simple exercise has turned into a small mission. I'm listening to the headphones I successfully paired with my computer on the first try. I’m already having a good day with technology. How much better can life get?

 I am listening to Beethoven’s Emperor Concerto, or as it is appropriately known, Piano Concerto No. 5. Most people probably recognize it instantly. To me, it reminds me of my father, who passed away ten years ago. The day he died, my wife and I visited him at the hospital. He looked unkempt, dishevelled, and unshaven—something he would never have accepted for himself in any of his nearly ninety years. Dad was always impeccably clean-shaven and often overdressed.

The nurse on duty explained the different breathing stages at the end of life, and we were only one stage away from the final one. The last stage, once it began, would give us time to get back to the hospital to say our final goodbyes. The nurses would call us once the final stage started. My wife, Donna, and I decided that, because the dog at home was alone without a break to go out and pee, and she would be suffering, we needed to go back and would return once we received the call. We drove the forty-five minutes back to the house in mid-afternoon, with me thinking about how badly Dad looked, and I felt uncomfortable leaving him like that.

That uncomfortable feeling worsened throughout the day. By ten thirty that evening, I was too restless, so I had to go to the hospital to shave him. I arrived after eleven. He was still breathing the same way as when we left him earlier that afternoon. He remained uncommunicative, but I understood that we could still communicate with the patient, even if we didn't know exactly what they were taking in at that moment; they were still receiving it.

I started shaving Dad and chatted with him about the Leafs' win that night, a rare occasion, but I figured, as a long-time Leafs fan, he would appreciate hearing about their victory. I also played the Emperor Concerto, knowing it was one of his favourite pieces.

The other was a song written by my son Chris and his cousin Adam called ‘Sailing Home.’ Chris was in British Columbia, 4,500 kilometres away, performing a gig at the Grey Cup for the Atlantic Schooners. When they heard it was time to say goodbye to “Pops,” they rushed back instead of staying for the rest of the party. They never did make it, but Tara had called Chris, and he said his goodbye remotely. Sailing Home has become a farewell song, played in memory of loved ones who have passed away. It has since touched many lives. It was even honoured with a special choreographed dance to honour Chris.

Once I shaved Dad, I felt better; he looked presentable in a way he would have approved, given his situation. The nurses reminded me that the next stage was still a while away and told me to go home and rest, as the following day would be long. I did as they asked.

I was home for just half an hour before I received that dreaded call. We got into the car and headed back, only to discover that he had passed away a few minutes earlier. I suppose he wasn’t ready to go, despite how he looked. My shaving his stubble was, in hindsight, a way of saying that we’ve got this — that we will be alright — and that Mom was also in good hands. Not that he ever needed our permission to do anything; it was a thing people think is thoughtful.

 

Story behind my newest release "Deep Beneath the Surface" by J. S. Marlo

 

Deep Beneath the Surface

To buy, click Here

Red in the Snow

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To buy any of my books, visit

J. S. Marlo's Books

I present you my latest novel Deep Beneath the Surface. 

 

    The discovery of a century old Model T at the bottom of a northern lake sends shock waves across multiple communities. Buried secrets, hidden scandals, and forgotten tragedies resurface, unleashing deadly threats.

     Hauk Ludwig leads the salvage operation. After losing one of his men, he is forced to hire a new diver, Star Fisher. Her investigative skills, feisty attitude, and tumultuous past stir up conflicting feelings and strange events that throw Hauk’s life, and the life of his crew, into chaos.

     Disfigured by a violent attack and haunted by recurring nightmares, Star finds solace in the silent depths. The relics she discovers on the sandy bottom links the sunken wreck to the unsolved disappearance of a rich heiress.

     Danger lurks above and below the surface. To protect their future, Star and Hauk must unearth the truth before they become victims of the past.

This is the story behind the story:

    Years ago, my daughter was exploring underwater wrecks on the Atlantic Coast. The descriptions she gave of the shipwrecks were eerie and fascinating, and they ignited my imagination. As far as I know, she has never seen a Ford Model T underwater, but she was the inspiration behind my female diver, Star.

    My daughter was also my technical adviser behind the scene. Not only did she review my underwater scenes, but one day when I was visiting her, she laid her scuba diving equipment on the living room floor, explained how everything worked, and got me to don some on the gear on so I could get a better feel and understanding. Unfortunately, I am a few sizes bigger than she is, or else I would have put everything on.

    To thank her, I wrote her a cameo in the story.

Interesting titbit:

A few months after I finished writing the story, my daughter sent me a newspaper article describing the fluke discovery of an old wreck in a remote lake, except it wasn't a Model T, it was a lost plane.

Practical titbit:

When she moved out of the house, my daughter left her diving weights behind. For the longest time, they were in a bag on the lower shelf of the shelving unit in the garage to keep it steady. 

This year, I was late putting the Halloween inflatables in front of the house. I usually stake them out on the front lawn mid-October, then my husband runs an electrical cord into the tree, up the side of the house, and into the plug near the roof so kids don't trip over the cord walking to the door.

Well, time ran away from me. Next thing I knew, it was October 31st in the afternoon, I wasn't tall enough to get that cord out of the way, and my husband wasn't coming home until after the kids started trick-or-treating. So, I improvised using my daughter's diving weights and garbage/recycling bins, and set the inflatables up in front of the garage. It worked!. 

Stay Warm & Happy Reading!

Hugs!

JS

 

 

J. S. Marlo's Website

Notorious Character by Paul Grant

 

https://books2read.com/Notorious-Moose-Jaw

I spent more than thirty years as a reporter and producer for CBC Radio.  Thousands 

of people told me their stories of tragedy or triumph or just plain getting by, and those

stories shaped me as a writer who believes that characters drive the plot.   In my new 

BWL novel Notorious, journalist Eleanor Bell is driven to stability and order because of how she grew up:  Her own childhood had been a chaotic series of moves from house to rented house as her parents tried to find work.  Far from celebrating their Cree heritage, her father tried to pass as white because, he said, nobody hired ‘lazy Indians’.  Her mother and grandmother tried to share some cultural touchstones, but Eleanor was too busy trying to survive in high school and university to pay much attention.

Bell brings sense to her world by writing. Bell’s Blog is subscribed to by dozens of media outlets because she brings clarity and solid research to political, social, and business stories. When the drug trade threatens to take over Moose Jaw, she puts her life at risk to follow the money behind the meth, enlisting help from her old pal, builder Jamie Staryk.

Moose Jaw has a starring role in Notorious.  The city’s wide streets, gracious architecture, and easy-going pace are the perfect backdrop for a mystery.  I hope you enjoy the story.

https://www.bookswelove.com/

Fall-O-Rama! by Julie Christen

Fall-O-Rama!

I love my family!

Nearly twenty or so years ago, I got this great idea. I talked to my sister in Wisconsin and asked if she might like to pack up the girls and drive to Minnesota to play horses with me for the weekend. That's how it started. We had a simple autumn weekend. My nieces enjoyed pony rides at the place I boarded my horse, Holiday. It was a cold and drizzly weekend, but we plugged in a pot of hot cider in the tack area and hung out in the cozy barn. Enveloped in the warmth of hay bales, horses, barn cats, and each other, we created a core memory so vivid that I still remember it like it was yesterday. 

In the evening, at my tiny house, while the girls played with a vintage Johnny West Family on the living room floor, my sister and I made my special goulash and famous chocolate chip cookies. Covered up on the couch at night, we watched The Man from Snowy River. And we all went to sleep that night to dream of autumn colors and horses and hay and steamy mugs and purring cats and love. Lots of love. We would definitely have to do this again sometime.

So we did. Every year. From then on.

Over the years, the rest of my family joined us. Mom and Dad, all my brothers and sisters with their kids too, and even some of my husband's side. We have declared it a national holiday and deemed it FALLORAMA! It's come a long way from a day in the barn. We even have our own shared spreadsheet where we all sign up for food, accommodations, and entertainment responsibilities. It's kind of a big deal.

This year, I grew my own pumpkins! We piled on the hayride and let the old John Deere B putt-putt us down to the corn field and pumpkin patch. It was so cool watching the kids (young and old) hunting for and harvesting those bright orange treasures that I had started by seed in my classroom window back in February. 

    

These days, it's our old quarter horse, Tuff, and my not-so-little nieces who give the pony rides. I get to sit on the fence rail and watch, visit, and relax. I'll tell you, it is something to watch your nieces grow into beautiful, capable, strong, and kind women. It fills my heart right up to the top with so much good stuff, I can hardly stand it. 

There are always crafts set up in the garage. This year, we painted wooden candy corns. That's also where we painted and carved pumpkins. You would be amazed at all the fun things we can create when given a little free time, supplies, space, and ideas. 

I added two new things this year. One was a Falloram Coloring Book. I found an app that would take old digital pics from Falloramas past and cartoonify them into coloring book pictures. Whenever someone needed a little downtime, they grabbed the colored pencils and brought a picture to life. The other activity I added was "Tell Me A Story BINGO" where you had to find a person to tell you a story about a bunch of given topics under various types and tones. It was neat hearing the little kids go to all the adults all day long, asking them to tell them a story. But I also found it kind of hard to just spit out a specific story on the spot. It was good practice for everyone, the storytellers and the listeners.

Tell me a story about ...

Your favorite pet. Your favorite sports team. Your tattoo. A race you have run. A celebrity you have met. A different language you can speak. A concert you’ve been to. An instrument you play. Something your sibling did when you were little. The most dangerous thing you’ve ever done. An adventure you took. Your hidden talent. An award you have received. A trip you took to your favorite place. A favorite recipe you’ve made. A recipe you tried, but it flopped. A hairdo you regret. A hard thing you did once. A time with your grandparent. Your favorite restaurant. Your worst food experience. A favorite weather experience. A different city you have visited. A different country you have been to. A hobby you love.

So many stories for all of us to tell!

On Fallorama Sunday, we all head to Mom and Dad's place for the day. The Poker Walk is my dad's hit activity. It gets us all out hiking trails on the prairie, through the woods, and up and down hills. Perfect penance for Saturday's copious amounts of indulgent food and drink. We end with a bonfire where the trophy is bestowed upon the year's new Poker Walk champion. At this point, noses are pointed for home, and that lull after the storm settles over us. Of course, we already have ideas for next year, but we have plenty of time to flesh them out.

Though I have moved several times since its genesis, we have been die-hard committed to making Fallorama work every single year. It's one of those good things well worth the effort, no matter how busy life gets or what misfortunes befall. I love my family. I love seeing it grow. I love the new stories and the old ones. I love that this aspect of my life spills into my writing. I love that we have this good, good thing.

Henry and Great Grampa Don on the Poker Walk.

Click here to order one of my stories today!

Reflections on a writing life by donalee Moulton

 

Hi everyone. As the end of the year approaches, it’s an opportunity to reflect. I thought I’d share some of those reflections with you.

Writing has always been part of my life. Over the years, it has become a central part of my life. Growing up I wanted to be a lawyer. I started university prepared to be a lawyer. Then I was introduced to academia and research. I wanted to teach at a university and publish papers in esteemed journals. Then I had a scholarship to get a PhD. I was thrilled. I turned it down. I had a chance to go to Harvard to research perceptions of time. I was thrilled. I turned it down. Clearly something else was at play. I finally realized what I wanted to do with my life was write.

My mother taught me to love language – and to respect it. She cared about words and getting the words right. She was my greatest influence.

When I was about eight or nine, a next-door neighbor tossed me a Nancy Drew book. She thought I might like it. I sat on the curb between our two houses and read the entire book cover to cover. I loved the puzzle, figuring out who dunnit, and being propelled into a world outside my own.

That same year someone gifted me Charlotte’s Web, and my life was forever changed. Not only could words transport you to new worlds, they could become a part of your heart, change you in ways you could not have imagined. I wanted to do that.

     Take a peek here

My first mystery book Hung Out to Die was published in 2023. The main character is Riel Brava. Attractive. Razor-sharp. Ambitious. And something much more. Riel just wants to be left alone to do his job and one day run for president of the United States. He has a plan. Murder gets in his way. It isn’t easy being a psychopath.

Take a peek here

My second book, Conflagration, followed and relives the real-life trial of an enslaved Black woman accused of setting much of the town of Montreal on fire in 1734. Two other books were released this year, Bind and Melt, a new series featuring three women who meet doing a downward dog.

Take a peek here

As I hope you’ll discover, not everything that happens in a yoga studio is zen.