Book Review, Excerpt /Giveaway-Neespaugot by John Magglebee-
About the book (provided by Virtual Author Book Tours)
Neespaugot: Legend of the Indian’s Coin by John Mugglebee
Publisher: Brandt Street Press (May 29, 2017)
Category: Historical Fiction, Native American Fiction, African American Fiction
Tour dates: Sept-Oct, 2017
Available in Print & ebook, 378 pages
Melba Blue Jay, sixteen, scrambling up a snow-filled mountain path, her knife at a child’s throat. Archie Chung at the helm of the South Pacific Belle, foremast snapped like a toothpick, barreling toward a coral reef. Spindly Lydia Freeman, skin the color of dark ale, feeding tea made of birch bark to an Irish murderess. Zeke Roxxmott teetering at three hundred feet on the five-inch ledge of his penthouse, bent on a flawless destruction.
Adventurers, inextricably linked by a bloodline… and an Indian’s coin.
Where history and imagination meet!
John Mugglebee’s Neespaugot is based on the real-life exploits of his own ancestors. A sweeping historical saga of his Native American, African American, Scots-Irish, Chinese, Russian Jewish family, it spans three centuries with adventures that keep you turning page after page. You’ll fall in love with these characters, who stay with you long after you’ve put the book down.
Read an excerpt
Captain paced nervously in the parlor window, a watchful eye on Franklin Street,
as he made repetitive glances at his pocket watch. She’s late, he thought to
himself. No, she isn’t, you old fool. Stop second-guessing yourself! But a
faith healer, of all things? With my own son a Harvard-educated physician. What
was I thinking? I’m a practical man, for God’s sake! A man of rules and
regulations. I have led men into battle on the high seas. I must’ve been mad to
agree to such hocus-pocus. You’re not mad, you worn-out boot, you’re in pain. The
acute headaches. You’d try anything that didn’t involve bleeding.
watched a two-horse cabriolet clop to the curb. The coachman shouted “Whoa!”
and climbed down as the horses shuddered and shat. Franklin Street began in
town, between the Old Port and Grover Wharf, but made a soaring rise up
Sentinel Hill from sea level to Revolutionary Park, a two-hundred-foot elevation
gain in one hundred yards. The coachman naturally had some difficulty securing
his livery before opening the coach door for his passenger. A young, spindly
mulatto woman the color of dark ale stepped down. Her hair was shorn like a sheep’s
wool, with only a thin tuft of black winkles on her head. She wore a purple
robe, like some kind of Gospel singer, and looked barely twenty years old. The
Captain decided she was much too young to be of any good to him and caned
outside to the stoop.
he called to the driver. “There’s been a mistake. Take this young lady back to
where you fetched her.”
ignored the Captain’s directive and sent the driver on his way. Then, the
brazen moll came up the walk and hailed him like an old friend. “Hullo, Captain
George!” On the stoop, she grabbed his hand and shook it forcefully. “I’m Lydia
Freeman, sir, and I mean to get you well.”
but firm, he disengaged his hand. “Well, Miss Freeman, you heard what I told
the driver. I’m no longer interested in this mumbo jumbo.”
the mulatto popped open her large bag and began rummaging around inside. “Good
news, Captain,” she said. “Seems I’m fresh out of mumbo jumbo today.”
you mocking me, young lady?”
funning you, sir. I believe that amusement is the best medicine. And rest
assured, Captain, there’ll be no bleeding.”
dumbstruck. “How did y…? Who have you been talking to about me?”
Captain. Your scalp rash and age tell me everything I need to know about what’s
ailing you. I’ll bet you’re having headaches.”
doctor worth his salt would diagnose arthritis and prescribe bleeding. Except
you’d sooner be shot than bled, am I right?” She winked, knowing the answer
already. “I read up on you, Captain. Fifty years ago you almost bled to death
at sea, the famous fire fight at Flamborough Head. ‘Surrender? I have only begun to fight!’” she
said, her voice dropping comically. “What did your son have to say about it,
really have been studying up on me, miss.”
me Lydia, Captain. You’ve had words, I suppose, the two of you?”
blasted conversation with George Jr. ends up in the shoals. The last time we
spoke, he warned me that my stubbornness would cost me my eyesight. Is that
causes grief, not blindness, Captain. You know, we can do this here on the
stoop or perhaps I can come in…”
About the author
John Mugglebee is a racial and ethnic jigsaw puzzle. His heritage, in chronological order, includes Native American, African American, Scots-Irish, Chinese and Russian Jew. John has said there were two major factors that shaped him as a person and a writer. One was “Being colored but not knowing which color.”
The other was upheaval. Born in Massachusetts, at age eleven he was uprooted to Southern California in the midst of the ’60s race riots. Growing up, John was told family stories that had been passed down for generations. Neespaugot is loosely based on those stories.
He currently lives in the South of France, where he heads a language laboratory for French Civil Aviation. John graduated from Dartmouth and earned a master’s in creative writing from Colorado State University. His previous novel, Renaissance in Provence, was published in 2004.
And I thought . . .Not the kind of book I normally read so I wasn't real sure what to expect. However I was intrigued and not disappointed. The plot/story ending up very interesting and will keep the reader involved all the way to the end. It was an interesting book to read. The weaving or races and cultures causes the to think. I recommend anyone to check it out. I received a complimentary copy from Teddy Rose and Virtual Author Book Tours.
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