More Precious Than Gold by Renee Yancy / #Extract #BlogTour @maryanneyarde @YancyRenee

Hearts of Gold, Book 2

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 Pan-demic Flu of 1918 wreaks havoc in New York City.




Kitty stood and surveyed the medical floor she was in charge of—thirty-six beds full of patients. She had two students with her to care for all of them, girls in their first semester: Miss Floyd, a tiny scrap of a girl, and Miss Blake, a plain-faced country girl.

Only one patient was troublesome tonight. Mathias Eisenmenger, a feisty eighty-year-old German lawyer, had fallen in court while trying a case and fractured his leg in two places. Mr. Eisenmenger had spent the last four weeks on the ward encased in a cast from hip to ankle on his right leg. Once he’d begun to feel better, the nurses couldn’t keep him in bed, especially since he’d learned how to get around in a wheelchair, even though the cast had to weigh as much as a small elephant.

The night nurse had told her one of the orderlies had found Mr. Eisenmenger in the stairwell at four a.m., attempting to go down the stairs in his chair, and had barely rescued him in the nick of time. Kitty was determined that no such incident would happen on her shift, and she had Mr. Eisenmenger’s bed moved next to the nurse’s desk, where she used a cloth restraint to tie him in his chair and then fastened his chair with a belt tied to the desk leg. That worked moderately well until midmorning when there was a terrific clatter and a screeching noise. Kitty looked up to see Mr. Eisenmenger dragging the desk behind him as he fought his way to the ward door. It took all three nurses to pry his fingers off the doorframe and drag him back into the ward.

“Mr. Eisenmenger.” Kitty wheeled his chair close to the nurse’s desk, pulled a chair over, and sat down next to the patient. “Where is it you want to go?”

“ZuHause. Home.” He drummed his fingers on the arms of his chair and glared at her from under bushy gray eyebrows. “Out. Of. Here.” With each word, he poked his forefinger sternly at her.

“Well,” Kitty said, keeping her tone matter-of-fact, “you’re progressing very well. Just two more weeks and the cast will come off and you will be out of here. But meanwhile, if you fall down the stairs and break more bones, you could be here for months. You don’t want that, do you?”

“Nein.” Mr. Eisenmenger smiled at her, his blue eyes sparkling.

“So then.” Kitty made her voice stern. “Can we agree there will be no more escape attempts?”

Mr. Eisenmenger pursed his lips as if he was considering it. Then he shook his head. “Nein.”

Kitty sighed. Keeping one hand on his wheelchair, she reached for the telephone and put in a call to maintenance. A few minutes later, Otis, a barrel-chested man who serviced Bellevue’s furnaces, came to the floor with the item she had requested.

“Here be what you wanted, Miss.” He held up a padlock and a length of steel chain in his work-hardened hands. “What’s it for?”

“I’ll show you.” Although Mr. Eisenmenger put on the brakes with his feet, she managed to force his wheelchair over to the heavy-duty enameled-iron sink at the front of the ward. The sink was big enough to bathe an adult in, if needed, and weighed a ton. “Please chain the wheelchair to the pipe, Otis.”

Otis ’eyes widened. “Yes, miss.”

Thank you


About the Author 

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—sto-ries 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 an-ything mid-century modern


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