Friday, November 29, 2013

Release Blitz: Faustina and the Barbarians by John McKeown

Faustina and the Barbarians by John McKeown


Rome wasn't built in a day but Faustina Maxima, antithesis of the passive Roman matron, can screw herself out of a threatening situation quicker than you can say, “Veni, vidi, vici!” This statuesque beauty, descendant of a famous emperor is a one-woman sexual killing machine that eats savage Goths and Saxons for breakfast—and is also partial to a Pict or two—while lunch, dinner and supper is any Roman who takes her fancy. Like any great general she's blessed with imagination, and open to every possibility for maximising pleasure. For, as she writes to her daughter-in-law Flavia, the lucky recipient of her mother-in-law's unblushing exploits among the barbarians, “what is life without ever fresh adventures?”

Warning: This title contains graphic language and is suitable for adults only.

'Faustina and the Barbarians' is a 21.000 words historical erotica novella
Published by


To: Flavia Maxima, Rome
From: Faustina Maxima, Amorgos, August 410

My darling daughter-in-law, what thrilling news! The Barbarians at the gates of Rome, at last. You and your friends are in for the time of your lives. I’m green with envy, exiled as ever on this barren Grecian rock with nothing but goats and wizened goat herders for company; not to mention that boring, obnoxious bag-of-bones, your father-in-law Flaccus. As soon as you hear Alaric’s Gothic cavalry pounding down the street, get outside and scream for attention.

I know you won’t do that, of course, but I hope this letter of mine will persuade you to stop being such a shrinking violet and have some fun with the gorgeous Goths before they’re completely Romanised. You really must make the most of them, my dear. All disrespect to my darling son, but you must be bored stiff in the bedroom. He’s just like his wimpish father; prefers a blowjob from a eunuch to fulfilling his conjugal duties.

Darling, in all earnestness, the Goths are just the influx of virility the women of Rome are crying out for. I speak, as always, from experience.

Twenty years ago, when the Goths first began seriously troubling our northern borders, Flaccus, appointed Legate by the Emperor Valentinian, was sent to keep an eye on them. I, of course, having the ear—and more vital organs—of His Imperial Majesty, was allowed to accompany him. I was a very excited twenty-year-old, who couldn’t wait to feast her eyes upon those blond giants from the far north.

When we arrived it was high summer, and the forests of Germania were steaming, and not just with fires from Barbarian encampments. Disguised as an officer, I rode with my valiant husband into the centre of the Chief’s camp to parlay. Darling, I simply couldn’t see what threat the Goths posed, for all their energy seemed to be spent in fucking their buxom-arsed women, and often each other, senseless. As we rode in, my saddle was damp with the sights we saw. They were fucking against trees, on the ground, and, one couple I remember, were shafting each other precariously balanced in the boughs of an oak. And what beauties they were! As Flaccus did his ‘fearsome Roman’ bit with Chief Athalaric, I let my eyes take in the tall blonds who surrounded our mounted embassy. Long blond hair turned to gold in the slanting rays of the sun, gemstone eyes set above rich, red mouths sculpted for kissing. And do you know, as I sat, looking as martial as I could, one of them met my eye and made a very provocative gesture with his closed fist. That night I lay in our tent stroking myself and feeling those strong fingers probing inside me.

I was well on the way to coming when I heard Delicia, my hand-maiden, scream. The curtains around my bed were torn back and there stood a gang of young Goths laughing, swords unsheathed.

“Oh Aphrodite, don’t let me wake up now,” I prayed as they gathered close, their eyes bulging with lust in the lamplight.

Buy Links

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All Romance:

Direct from publisher:

Author bio

John McKeown is a British writer based in Dublin. He lived in Prague where he was a teacher and freelance journalist and part of the ex-pat literary scene in the 1990s, then moved to Ireland in 2000 becoming a columnist for the Irish Examiner, and arts feature writer for the Irish Times. He was theatre critic for the Irish Daily Mail from 2006 to 2008 and is currently reviewing theatre for the Irish Independent and UK online theatre magazine Exeunt while raising his daughter Julia. His erotic short stories have been published by Xcite Books in the UK, who have also recently published his first novella Gooseflesh Abbey. JMS Books in the US is publishing two other erotic novellas, also in 2013, Prague Memoir and The Time Sex Machine. In addition to erotica John has four collections of poetry in print, the last, Night Walk published by Salmon Press in Ireland (available from Dufour Editions in the US). He has also collaborated with Leo O’Kelly of Irish folk-rock duo Tir Na nOg, on an album of songs entitled Will released in 2011 on Life and Living Records in the UK.

Thursday, November 28, 2013

Happy Thanksgiving from Philly!

I hope you all have an awesome day. Wherever you are, and however you celebrate, have a safe, and happy holiday.

The Story of Thanksgiving by Zebtoonz

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Happy Hanukkah 2013

Happy Hanukkah to all my Jewish family and friends!

Hanukkah, the Festival of Lights, begins November 27th and ends December 5th, and this year it overlaps with Thanksgiving, a rare occurence.
The last time the two celebrations occurred on the same date was in 1918.
Hanukkah celebrates a miracle that took place more than twenty centuries ago, when the Holy Land was ruled by the Greeks. The Jews defeated the Greek army and reclaimed their Holy Temple in Jerusalem. There was only enough oil to keep the candles burning for a day, but the flames burned for eight days.

This year I wrote a short Hanukkah story - Bashert – which is available for preorder as part of the Dreamspinner Press 2013 Advent Calendar Anthology, Heartwarming. 
Bashert by Gale Stanley
Is it possible to be a good Jew and a gay man?
Not for Jonah Stern. He can’t reconcile his faith with his attraction to boys, so he turns his back on Judaism. A college scholarship is Jonah’s ticket to freedom from his disapproving parents. Next step: losing his virginity to Christian, the blue-eyed blond man of his dreams.
Instead, Jonah has a fateful meeting with Aaron Blumberg and ends up celebrating Hanukkah. Aaron tells him they’re bashert—meant to be. But Jonah has doubts. He believes his lack of faith will create a wedge between them. It’s up to Aaron to bridge the gap and convince Jonah to take a leap of faith.

Available at Dreamspinner Press:

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Vault of Secrets by Hawk MacKinney #SuperBookBlast #GoddessFishPromotions

Today is the Super Book Blast for Vault of Secrets. Hawk MacKinney weaves an intriguing story of deception and redemption. Enjoy the excerpt and don't forget to comment. One randomly drawn commenter will win a $20 Amazon Gift Card.

Follow the tour and comment; the more you comment, the better your chances of winning. The tour dates can be found here:

By Hawk McKinney


Vault of Secrets is a compelling tale of intrigue, murder, deception and redemption that leads retired Navy SEAL/part-time private investigator Craige Ingram in search of the connection between seemingly random murders and a banking conspiracy.  Working with the local homicide investigator, who just happens to be a former Navy buddy, Craige Ingram's attempts to protect a lonely widow and solve the case before another person dies are only thwarted by a psychotic killer whose motivation is based on pure pleasure.  The instincts and skills Ingram and his buddy acquired as Navy SEALS are tested to their limits.


Before the forensic team videoed the kill zone, they took painstaking wide-angle photos and close-ups, made a detailed sweep of the area, packaged possible physical evidence and tagged the zip-locks.  The heavy, thick plastic body bag was zipped shut.  The woman’s remains were then hoisted into the van with County Morgue stenciled on the side—slaughtered meat on a gurney.  It was ready for storage and probably a pauper’s grave.

In one desolate corner of the garage, beyond the yellow marked area and oil splotched parking slots, the two bag ladies tried to be inconspicuous, waiting where they’d been told to stay.  Her drab gray-blond hair twisted into a bun, Sallie Mae Drutherferde darted distrustful glances at the clusters of police.  She squinted a sky blue eye, didn’t like cops one iota, and gave a dubious, all-knowing look at Agatha Ruth.  Together, the two were often pushing their rickety grocery cart with its one lopsided wheel.

Sallie Mae asked, “A’gatha, you not gonna tell ‘em anything?” Her eyes were cocked big and round.  Sallie Mae always called her A’gatha ‘cause that’s the way Agatha Ruth Hutchers said it.  Didn’t matter what others said.  A’gatha nervously adjusted her dumpster-discard, hairbare, blond wig twisted askance, which made her look like she was staring sidewise.

A’gatha shook her head, “Ain’t sayin’ nuthin’ ‘bout nuthin’—‘bout no big, show-off, black see-dan automobile that pulled in here last night.  Right off the bat, they’d be askin’ why we was where we didn’t supposed to be.  We end up havin’ to find us another place to skitter in out of the weather.  No sirree.  Ain’t sayin’ nuthin’.”

“Gonna have to find us another place anyhow,” Sallie Mae muttered as she crooked one finger to scratch her curls.  “‘Sides, I didn’t hear no scuffle.”

“Whole lot of ‘em drunk as hoot owls,” A’gatha said.  “Was all set to have a wing-ding party long ‘fore they showed up here.  Poor thing yonder in that amb’lance wadn’t no innocent church mouse.  She was more’n willin’.” She then added with a snap of her head, “Lordy mercy.  Tsk-tsk.  More’n willin’ and a cagey type, too.  The type who makes sure to be paid ‘fore puttin’ a foot in anyone’s big, long car.  Scandalous tight dress showin’ off her wares, and a skimpy blouse didn’t hide nothin’—poochin’ out her chest for any fancy man long as they brung money.  Even if she was a harlot, ain’t no bizness a ours.” Her face softened.  “Ain’t tellin’ nobody nuthin’.  You know how cops be.”

“The likes a her endin’ up dead in some alley ain’t no surprise t’me one bit,” Sallie Mae said.
“Sallie Mae!” A’gatha eyed her.  “You hush up ‘bout us seein’ them in that alley.  Bankers that works in this building won’t bat nary an eyelash payin’ some low life to dump us off the Fifth Street pier.  We end up gator bait stuffed amongst swamp sycamore tree roots.” Truth glimmered from her eyes like a cornered rabbit.  “Them kind got money to buy their scutwork done.”

The police finally got around to them.  “What were you two doing in here that hour of the night?” the beat cop asked.

“Passin’ through,” Sallie Mae said, her head up proud.

“Passing through …” the cop snorted.  “Up here on the upper deck?”

A’gatha scowled, “We got lost.” Her lips were tight as she glowered, “We ain’t done nuthin’ wrong.”

“This is private property,” he said.  “Nobody’s supposed to be in here unless you got business with the bank, and nobody’s supposed to be in here at night.”

“We didn’t bother nuthin’, didn’t see nothin’.”  Sallie Mae wasn’t about to let no cop push A’gatha around.

He knew he was getting nowhere.  He turned to the lieutenant, “We’ve dealt with these two before.  The only arrests they have is when some owner found them sleeping in his garage or in the back of an unlocked delivery van.”  He knew they were tough, weren’t about to crack, but finding them here meant an extra patrol for him and his partner.  There was no point in pushing further, so he closed his notepad and shoved it in his pocket.  “You two can’t loiter here,” he said.  “The bank don’t like it.”

A’gatha bristled, “Ain’t loiterin’.”  She wasn’t going to put up with being called a bum neither.
“Don’t let me catch you two in here again,” he said and walked away.

“Let’s git.”  They scurried away.  A’gatha knew they didn’t amount to anything to any of these cops.  They were nothing more than dust in a world that passed them without ever seeing them.  “Might be a good time to take us a Florida vacation,” A’gatha said.  “Ain’t never comin’ back near this here place.” She could feel the spirits hovering about.  “Not ever.”

“Cops don’t scare me none,” Sallie Mae said.

“Tain’t the cops,” Agatha said, eyeballin’ the shady darkness ‘round abouts them.  “They be a evil smell to this place.  A hoary breath of death abouts.  I can tetch it.  You best listen t’me.  Be like about that other time when I said things wadn’t safe,” she said, directing a sidewise glance at Sallie Mae and sensing the murky gloom behind the midday brightness.  “I’m rollin’ the bones this night.  Death be here.” Her eyes were big with fear.  “Ain’t stayin’ where demons walk the night mist.”


With postgraduate degrees and faculty appointments in several medical universities, Hawk MacKinney has taught graduate courses in both the United States and Jerusalem. In addition to professional articles and texts on chordate neuroembryology, Hawk has authored several works of fiction.

Hawk began writing mysteries for his school newspaper. His works of fiction, historical love stories, science fiction and mystery-thrillers are not genre-centered, but plot-character driven, and reflect his southwest upbringing in Arkansas, Texas and Oklahoma. Moccasin Trace, a historical novel nominated for the prestigious Michael Shaara Award for Excellence in Civil War Fiction and the Writers Notes Book Award, details the family bloodlines of his serial protagonist in the Craige Ingram Mystery Series… murder and mayhem with a touch of romance. Vault of Secrets, the first book in the Ingram series, was followed by Nymrod Resurrection, Blood and Gold, and The Lady of Corpsewood Manor. All have received national attention.  Hawk’s latest release in the Ingram series is due out this fall with another mystery-thriller work out in 2014. The Bleikovat Event, the first volume in The Cairns of Sainctuarie science fiction series, was released in 2012.

"Without question, Hawk is one of the most gifted and imaginative writers I have had the pleasure to represent. His reading fans have something special to look forward to in the Craige Ingram Mystery Series. Intrigue, murder, deception and conspiracy--these are the things that take Hawk's main character, Navy ex-SEAL/part-time private investigator Craige Ingram, from his South Carolina ancestral home of Moccasin Hollow to the dirty backrooms of the nation's capital and across Europe and the Middle East."

Barbara Casey, President
Barbara Casey Literary Agency

Monday, November 25, 2013

The Pulse @ShoshannaEvers #BookBlast #GoddessFishPromotions

Welcome to the Goddess Fish Promotions' Book Blast for Shoshanna Evers' new book - The Pulse. This gripping erotic romance is set in post-apocalyptic New York City.

Enjoy the excerpt and don't forget to enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway at the end of the post. Shoshanna will be awarding a $50 gift card for either Amazon or B&N to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour.

Follow the tour and comment; the more you comment, the better your chances of winning. The tour dates can be found here:

The Pulse, Book 1 in the Pulse Trilogy
by Shoshanna Evers


Book One in the heart-pounding Pulse Trilogy—a gripping erotic romance set in post-apocalyptic New York City one year after an electromagnetic pulse destroys America’s power grid. "Intense, exciting, and sizzlingly sexy—a perfect post-apocalyptic romance!" (Heather Thurmeier, bestselling author of Escape to My Arms and Stuck on You)
Emily Rosen lives in a military camp at Grand Central Station, where women sell their bodies to soldiers for extra rations. When she discovers a dark secret—that America is rebuilding outside of New York City, and everything the city’s refugees have been told is a lie—she escapes, the soldiers hot on her heels…

But Christopher Mason, a convict who broke out of prison after the Pulse, finds Emily first. Although he’s survived this long on the streets by looking out only for himself, Emily is beautiful, alluring, and impossible to leave behind.

Now Emily must convince this intimidating, magnetic stranger to be her guide as they journey out of New York and into the unknown. She’ll barter with her body, but sex with Mason can never be currency—it’s pure passion, and everything she desires. Despite the crumbling world around them, can Emily and Mason discover true love blooming in the darkest of places?


EXCERPT from The Pulse, Book 1 in the Pulse Trilogy by Shoshanna Evers
Copyright Shoshanna Evers 2013 Simon & Schuster Pocket Star, All Rights Reserved.

“Look at me,” Emily said soothingly. “I need to see your pupils.”

She peered into his eyes. In a perfect world, she’d shine a flashlight in them, but there were no flashlights. The only light she had now streamed in through the dirty glass panes of the windows.

Man, he was good-looking. Too good-looking. And large.

Mason leaned forward on the cot and grabbed her wrists. “It’s you,” he said groggily.
 “I’m Emily, I’m taking care of you,” she said gently. “I’m going to clean your wound. It may hurt.”

“I remember you. I saw you that day, when they picked you up. When you got brought in.”
Emily looked at him in horror. He was from the camp, he had to be. She shrank away from him, feeling her heart race. The washrag hung limply from her hand.

Focus, don’t be blinded by fear.

“I remember you. When they took you away, it was me, hiding behind the cab,” Mason said, staring intently into her eyes. “Are you okay?”

She remembered him now, the man who held his finger to his lips. At the time she had assumed he was hiding from the soldiers, just like she had been.

Like she was now.

“You—you’re not one of them?” she asked, hating how weak and scared she sounded.
“No. I’ve got my reasons to hide from the law. Like you, I imagine.”

She laughed, a dry barking sound. “Not like my reason.”

Quickly, she quieted herself. The less he knew about her hidden radio, the safer for both of them.

“Are you . . . Why are you hiding, Mason?” She had to know, as much as she didn’t want to. He was the only man around she could possibly trust—if he truly had nothing to do with the soldiers.

As much as she wanted to make it on her own, it didn’t hurt to know who her friends were—and her enemies.

Suddenly, he looked at her suspiciously. “I should never have told you my name.”
“I’m sorry,” Emily whispered. “I saw the tattoo, on your arm. I thought maybe you had been in prison.”

“Do you know what they do to prisoners now, Emily?”

Emily looked at him and cocked her head. “My understanding is they let all the petty criminals go. The ones who were murderers, rapists, pedophiles and psychos they . . . they shot them. Killed them all so they wouldn’t take up valuable resources.”

“They kill prisoners, huh?” Mason said, staring at her intently, holding her wrists. “So what makes you think I want you spreading rumors about me being in prison?”

“I won’t tell anyone. Not a soul.”

He dropped his hands then, as if suddenly realizing what he was doing. “There’re no computers to track me. No fingerprint files. I’m a blank slate now, and I intend to start over.”

“What did you do?” she whispered.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “And that’s all you need to know. Understand?”

“Okay,” she said softly, and picked up the rag to finish cleaning his wound, grateful to have a task to keep her focused. He wouldn’t need stitches, but she’d have to check him every fifteen minutes or so for a while to make sure he wasn’t suffering from a brain injury.

Not that she could do anything for him if he was. If his head injury was truly serious, then he would just go to sleep and die. She wasn’t about to do brain surgery. She couldn’t even if she knew how.

His T-shirt was saturated with blood—scalps tend to bleed a lot. “Can you . . . take off your shirt?” she asked tentatively.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said. His face looked flushed, a deep pink coloring his previously pale cheeks. “I’m not—I don’t expect you to—”

She took a step back. “No! That’s not what I meant. I just—your shirt is ruined. Bloody. I can wash it.”

He turned his face from her for a moment as if trying to compose himself.

“Where you gonna wash it?” he asked as he pulled the filthy shirt over his shoulders.
She glimpsed tight abdominal muscles and an incredibly large, smooth chest before the shirt came completely off . He had a sprinkling of crinkly dark hair leading down around his navel, trailing into the waistband of his cargo pants.

Emily sighed. “I don’t know. But I bet one of the shirts I took with me from Grand Central will fit. Might be a bit tight,” she acknowledged as she ruffled through a worn backpack. “Here.”
It was definitely too small, outlining all of his muscles in stark relief.


AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Critically-acclaimed author Shoshanna Evers has written dozens of sexy stories including Amazon Erotica Bestsellers Overheated, and Enslaved, Book 1 in the Enslaved Trilogy. Her work has been featured in Best Bondage Erotica 2012 and Best Bondage Erotica 2013, the Penguin/Berkley Heat anthology Agony/Ecstasy, and numerous erotic BDSM novellas including Chastity Belt and Punishing the Art Thief from Ellora's Cave Publishing.

The non-fiction anthology Shoshanna Evers edited and contributed to, How To Write Hot Sex: Tips from Multi-Published Erotic Romance Authors, is a #1 Bestseller in the Authorship, Erotica Writing Reference, and Romance Writing categories.

Her BDSM erotic romance The Enslaved Trilogy released in April 2013 from Simon & Schuster's Pocket Star imprint, followed by the Pulse Trilogy, a post-apocalyptic dystopian erotic romance releasing November 2013.

Shoshanna is a New York native who now lives with her family and two big dogs in Northern Idaho. She welcomes emails from readers and writers, and loves to interact on Twitter and Facebook.

Sexily *Evers* After...

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Saturday, November 23, 2013

Q & A at The Romance Reviews’ Year-End Splash Party

The Romance Reviews’ Year-End Splash Party has been going on all month and today my Contest is featured on the site. Answer a question for a chance to win your choice of  an ebook from my backlist. The fun starts here:
There are more than 400 participating authors and publishers, and many awesome prizes are up for grabs. including a Grand prize of a $100 Gift Certificate! There's still plenty of time to participate in November. so head on over to

Friday, November 22, 2013

Into the Fire by Lindsey Fairleigh and Lindsey Pogue #SuperBookBlast #GoddessFishPromotions

Welcome to the Super Book Blast for Into the Fire, a post-apocalyptic novel by Lindsey Fairleigh and Lindsey Pogue.
The authors will be awarding a $15 Amazon GC to one randomly drawn commenter during the tour. Follow the tour and comment; the more you comment, the better your chances of winning. The tour dates can be found here:

The Rafflecopter giveaway is at the end of the post.



by Lindsey Fairleigh and Lindsey Pogue


The Virus changed them, but that was only the beginning…
…all that remains is hope.

In the wake of destruction left behind by the Virus, it took Dani and Zoe months to find each other. But their reunion was short-lived. Dani has been taken, and though little distance separates them, they might as well be worlds apart.

From the moment she hears Dani’s scream, Zoe’s only goal is to save her best friend. She and her companions scramble to come up with a rescue plan, but when a ghost from Jake’s past reappears, lines are blurred, decisions become harder, and secrets are revealed…and some secrets are best left buried. To keep heartache and fear from consuming her, Zoe must cling to her determination. She will see Dani again.

Dani awakens inside the final hold-out of civilization: the Colony. Remnants of the former world surround her—electricity, safety, social order—but all is not what it seems. As she faces her most manipulative adversary yet, she loses sight of who she is and who she can trust. Friends become enemies, enemies become allies, and allies will betray her.  Dani will have to decide what she’s willing to do and whose lives she’s willing to risk if she is to have any chance of breaking free.


Excerpt 2 (Zoe):

I froze. He’s leaving. I glared at Jake’s back, but feeling his misery, my anger quickly subsided. “We can figure something—”

“Stop!” He pulled his arm back and slammed his fist into the wall, denting it. “There’s nothing to figure out. My sister will not be used as a pawn.” His face fell. He leaned back and brought his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”
He’s already made up his mind. Instantly, I started to question everything about Jake and me…about us. My reservations from the first time I met him—the first time he saved me, opened his mouth, and pushed me away—flared to life, and I chided myself for being so na├»ve. I knew something like this would happen. 
The questions jumped off my tongue before I could contain them. “What about Dani? What about me? You’re just going to leave?”

When he didn’t respond, reality burst overhead like a looming storm cloud, clearing away the fog that had settled in my heart and mind. How could I have been so stupid?
The conversation we’d had on the dock back in St. Louis resurfaced from under a month’s-worth of foolhardy emotions. Jake’s words replayed in my mind.

“For whatever reason, I know you don’t want to let me in…or maybe you just don’t know how…what are you afraid of?”

This. This feeling of inexplicable loss was what I’d been afraid of—the living lump of hysteria swelling in my throat, the desperation in my heart. I couldn’t swallow it away.

Biting the inside of my cheek as hard as possible, I willed myself to calm down. Keep it together, Zoe.

Jake strode past me to Becca, pulling her up to her feet.

Lunging at him, I pushed against his chest as hard as I could. “You’re leaving?” He stumbled away from Becca, and I pushed him again. “You’re going to kill Dani!” I shoved against his shoulder. “You’re going to kill us all if you take her!” I smack his chest. “I won’t let you ruin everything.” I won’t let you break my heart! I pushed, shoved, and slapped him again and again. “You son of a bitch!” 

Jake gripped my arms firmly, immobilizing me and forcing me to look up at him. His eyebrows lifted with sympathy…or is it sorrow? I was too upset to differentiate between his emotions and mine.

“Let go,” I warbled.

As he opened his mouth to speak, a gunshot cracked through the air, and Jake yanked me down to the floor.


AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Lindsey Fairleigh lives her life with one foot in a book—as long as that book transports her to a magical world or bends the rules of science. Her novels, from post-apocalyptic to time travel and historical fantasy, always offer up a hearty dose of unreality, along with plenty of adventure and romance. When she's not working on her next novel, Lindsey spends her time reading and trying out new recipes in the kitchen. She lives in the Napa Valley with her loving husband and confused cats.

Lindsey Pogue has always been a little creative. As a child she established a bug hospital on her elementary school soccer field, compiled books of collages as a teenager, and as an adult, expresses herself through writing. Her novels are inspired by her observations of the world around her--whether she's traveling, people watching, or hiking. When not plotting her next story line or dreaming up new, brooding characters, Lindsey's wrapped in blankets watching her favorite action flicks or going on road trips with her own leading man.



Buy links:

Into The Fire (The Ending, #2) - not available yet
After The Ending (The Ending, #1) -

Barnes & Noble:
Into The Fire (The Ending, #2) - not available yet
After The Ending (The Ending, #1) -

Into The Fire (The Ending, #2) - not available yet
After The Ending (The Ending, #1) – not available yet

Into The Fire (The Ending, #2) - not available yet
After The Ending (The Ending, #1) – not available yet


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Thursday, November 21, 2013

The Gospel According to Prissy #SuperBookBlast #GoddessFishPromotions

Today I have Barbara Casey here with an excerpt from her compelling novel - The Gospel According to Prissy. This look inside a women's prison makes for riveting reading.
Enjoy and don't forget to comment. Barbara will be awarding a $25 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour.
Follow the tour and comment; the more you comment, the better your chances of winning. The tour dates can be found here: 


The Gospel According to Prissy
by Barbara Casey


Three Army veteran misfits, a college dropout, an unmotivated high school graduate accused of murder, a controversial warden of a women's prison, and a little girl with the gift of prophesy – these are the people 31-year-old Lara Kruger invites into her life after suffering a miscarriage, a divorce from an abusive husband, and unemployment.


Excerpt One:

Miriam walked away from her desk and paused in front of the unframed full-length mirror she had salvaged from the recent renovations in the women’s shower rooms.  The edges were chipped and blackened, and there was a fairly large crack that ran vertically from one corner to the other.  The condition of the mirror was the result, no doubt, of one of many displays of frustration and anger within the prison walls before she took over.  Still, the mirror served its purpose.  On those rare occasions when Warden Miriam Temple of the Braden Women’s Correctional Institution needed to be sure she looked her best, at least she could do so in the privacy of her own office.

Studying her reflection, she saw a tall, aging fifty-nine-year-old woman with dark hair streaked with gray cut in a simple shag, myopic brown eyes made evident by the wire-framed glasses, and a raw-boned body that could be considered well-proportioned if it weren’t for the fact that it was about twenty pounds on the heavy side, fifteen of which had settled around her thighs and buttocks.  “Pear shaped, as opposed to apple shaped,” she frequently reminded herself, “so that means at least I won’t die of a heart attack.”  The fact that her ear lobes were also plump and didn’t have the diagonal creases indicating some type of heart disease seemed to confirm that fact.  She didn’t know if these old-wives’ tales she had grown up with were really true, but she liked to keep an open mind, especially when they worked to her benefit.

She normally didn’t wear make-up, but this morning before leaving for work, she had dug out her small tapestry bag that held what few cosmetics she owned and applied a little blush and a touch of lipstick.  She rubbed one cheek with her hand now, thinking that maybe she shouldn’t have bothered.  She didn’t need to impress anyone.  Even if there had been the awkwardness that sometimes comes with being a large woman, it had been replaced years ago by the confidence born from a privileged background and the level of acceptance and comfort from which she viewed herself.

Her dark gray suit and crisp white blouse were clean and unwrinkled, thanks to the prison laundry facilities.  The plain black pumps she wore looked both practical and appropriate to complete the over-all appearance of discipline, control, strength, and above all, a positive attitude.  It was the attitude within the prison that Miriam had worked the hardest on when she took over as head warden six years earlier.  There had been a stifling wave of hopelessness and despair among the female inmates so thick it made it difficult to breathe.  This was manifested daily in brawls, food fights, and a behavior of non-compliance in general.  “Animals get treated better than we do,” had been the mantra at the prison.

For six years Miriam had been working fourteen-hour days, overseeing the operations of the facility, staying on top of problems, writing reports, and talking to every person she could reach about helping to set up programs for “her girls” as she referred to them.  Each of Miriam’s programs offered something to a few of her girls, but not to all, something she struggled with daily.  She constantly researched what other correctional institutions were doing not only in this country but other countries as well, trying to come up with new ways to stimulate her girls and help them feel enthusiastic about their lives.

It had worked.  She started getting noticed after the first year of her tenure.  Complaints from the prisoners dropped, a State audit confirmed that for the first time in over a decade the prison budget would be in the black, and the over-all appearance of the facility was vastly improved.  Government officials who previously had been reluctant to show interest now started to open doors for this hard-working, persistent, and obviously dedicated woman. 

And then Prissy had been born.


AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Barbara Casey is president of the Barbara Casey Agency, representing adult fiction and nonfiction for authors throughout the United States, Great Britain, and Japan.  She is also the author of numerous articles, poems, and short stories.  Her award-winning novels have received national recognition, including the Independent Publishers Book Award, the Dana Award for Best Novel, and the Publisher’s Best Seller Award.  Her novel, The House of Kane, released in 2008, was considered for a Pulitzer nomination, and her novel Just Like Family received special recognition by the 7-Eleven Corporation.  Two other novels, The Gospel According to Prissy (released in the spring of 2013) and Shyla’s Initiative, both received an IPPY Award for Best Book in Regional Fiction. Her most recent young/new adult book, The Cadence of Gypsies, has been selected as an Amazon Best Read and received the 2013 IPPY Living Now Award.

In addition to being a frequent guest lecturer at universities and writers’ conferences, Ms. Casey served as judge for the Pathfinder Literary Awards in Palm Beach and Martin Counties, Florida, and was the Florida Regional Advisor for the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators from 1991 through 2003.