Monday, December 4, 2017

The Prophet and the Witch by James W. George

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. James W. George will be awarding a $20 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Go to to see the other stops on the tour.

Five Things You Might Not Know About James W. George

1. I strongly suspect my teenage son is secretly letting me win at NFL Madden on the Play Station.

I think he knows how grumpy and cranky I get when I’m losing, and I think he knows it’s just not worth the aggravation. My suspicions are always raised when I get out to a nice ten or twenty- point-lead, but then, in the fourth quarter, he starts doing all these crazy no-huddle offenses and starts moving the ball downfield like he’s Tom Brady.

One of the most fascinating things about parenthood is watching your kids eclipse you at things. When they’re in elementary school, it almost seems inconceivable that one day, they will run faster than you, they will be smarter than you, they will play musical instruments better than you, and they will almost always defeat you at games of skill or strategy. But that’s the nature of humanity. It’s just always surprising how quickly it comes.

Fortunately, I gave him a Thanksgiving beatdown on the chess board, which I’m almost certain was legit. Almost.

2.I am obsessed with conquering the world.

On the topic of video games, by far my favorites are those variations of “Risk” or “Axis and Allies,” where you have a map and you watch your armies fan out over the globe. When I was a kid, if I wanted to play “Risk,” I’d have to find three of four friends, it would take seven hours, and there would be two or three gruesome, childish tantrums (usually my own). Now the whole thing takes fifteen minutes on my Kindle. And, if I inadvertently let loose with a fiendish, Doctor-Evil-esque laugh, there’s no one around to notice.

3.I’m worried I’m going to have to pay a cover charge and a two-drink minimum to sit in my living room.

On the subject of kids eclipsing their parents, I am stunned how good my sixteen-year-old son has become on guitar. There’s all kinds of backing tracks you can download from the internet now, and when I walk into my house in the evening, it’s like I’m in a Chicago blues club. I keep looking around for a waitress to bring me a beer.

My son is considering becoming a music major, but he is approaching it with eyes wide open. He even told me this joke: What’s the difference between a guitarist and a sturdy couch? The couch can support a family of four.

4. I have never been defeated in a 5K race by any women over the age of 65.

I’ve never been much of an athlete, but while living in Charleston, S.C. in the 1990s, it was pretty hard to resist the holiday 5K races they offered. They were on Thanksgiving, and there was another one right around Christmas. They went right through the heart of the beautiful downtown, and they were a lot of fun.

I remember during one of them, I was huffing and puffing while approaching the home stretch. Off in the distance, at least fifty yards ahead, I spied a woman who seemed to be at least seventy years old! She was beating me! I was in my mid-twenties! Absolutely horrified, I kicked it into high gear. With my vision blurring and my heart bursting, I crossed the finish line at least ten yards ahead of her. YES! IN YOUR FACE, GRANDMA!

The next day, they posted the winning times in the local newspaper. I was proud to see the winning time for the category of women over the age of 65 was five seconds behind my own. YES! I defeated every woman over the age of 65! VICTORY!

Now, before you beat me down with shrieks of ageism and sexism, let’s stipulate that it should be pretty reasonable that a twenty-something, healthy young man should be able to eclipse a sixty-five-year-old woman in a road race. Let’s also stipulate to the fact that I haven’t run a 5K in decades, and I have no doubt if I tried it today, there would be a veritable army of youthful, physically fit ladies of a certain age tearing past me like I was wearing molasses sneakers. Finally, let’s stipulate to the fact that my mother-in-law is well into her seventies and biking 10+ miles every day, and I’m scared to go out and ride with her. So, bottom line, my triumphant victory was pretty fleeting.

5. I love Scrooge McDuck.

My office is filled with Scrooge McDuck collectibles. Just because. Enough said.

Puritans. Quakers. Pirates. Mohawks. Witches. And a brutal war…

If you thought New England was dull in the 1670s, get ready for a history lesson.

In the critically acclaimed “My Father’s Kingdom,” debut author James W. George transported his readers to 1671 New England, and the world of Reverend Israel Brewster. It was a world of faith, virtue, and love, but it was also a world of treachery, hatred, and murder.

Four years later, Brewster is a disgraced outcast, residing in Providence and working as a humble cooper. Despite his best efforts, war could not be averted, and now, “King Philip’s War” has begun.

The rebellion is led by Metacomet, known as “King Philip” to the English colonists. He is the tormented son of the great Massasoit, and leader of the Wampanoag nation. Once the most reliable of Plymouth Colony’s allies, they are now the bitterest of enemies. Meanwhile, Metacomet’s mysterious counselor, Linto, despises this war and will do anything to end the bloodshed.

Meticulously researched, “The Prophet and the Witch” is a tale of hope and brotherhood in the face of evil and violence. It features the remarkable cast of fictional and historical characters from book one, including Josiah Winslow, Linto, Increase Mather, Constance Wilder, and Jeremiah Barron. Additionally, new characters such as America’s first ranger, Captain Benjamin Church, bring this chapter of history to life like never before.

Read an excerpt:

“Vous êtes malheureux?”

Linto morosely drew another card, and ignored Captain Alain Fontaine.

“Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?”

Linto should have been using the opportunity, as Captain Fontaine expected, to study the language of their new allies. As the captain repeatedly conveyed, within a few years New England would merely be an extension of New France, and a working knowledge of French would be vital.

“Are you unhappy, Linto?”

The shift back to English stirred Linto from his dull torpor. He briefly made eye contact, played his card, and sighed. They were playing “one and thirty,” and this would certainly be the fourth consecutive hand Linto would lose. His three cards currently added up to a paltry seventeen points, and he knew Fontaine would capitalize on his discard.

“I will take your three, and…voila. I have thirty-one. Or better yet, I have trente et un.” Linto stared vacantly into space.

“Linto, speak to me. You miss your family, no? I miss my family as well. My daughter is named Madeline. She is with her grandmother in Lyons. Tell me, what are the names of your children?”

Linto blinked and stared at the table. “Will Father Jacques ever come back, Cahp-ee-tehn Alain?”

Fontaine remained cordial. “I do not believe so. I have told you before. He will spend the spring to the west of here, on the shores of the ocean lake. It is very far, but he will save many souls. But I can answer all of your questions. You wish to know more about the English heresies? How they revile the Holy Father?”

Linto reached absent-mindedly for the cards, and lethargically shuffled them, much to Fontaine’s surprise. “A fifth hand, Linto? Surely, your luck must be ready to change?”

Linto briefly ruminated on the concept of luck. “Cahp-ee-tehn Alain, do you confess your sins?”


“Father Jacques told me true Christians will tell a holy man all the things they have done wrong, and they will ask to be forgiven. Do you think people are punished if they don’t tell a holy man all the things they have done wrong?”

“You think of such serious matters all the time, Linto. The sky is clear, the English are on the run all over the land, and we are roasting ducks today. There will be a big lacrosse game to watch in the afternoon. I think we will also see at least thirty more warriors arrive this week, and they will bring muskets.”

Linto continued his ineffective shuffling. “How often do you tell the holy man your sins? What if you do bad things every day?”

Fontaine reached for the cards and took them. “Linto, you have been moping like a sad Puritan ever since you went to see the Nipmuc. Weren’t they overjoyed at the news? Aren’t they making preparations for two hundred new warriors?”

The reminder of deception and falsehood triggered an even deeper gloom in Linto. He sat silently, and was relieved when one of Cahp-ee-tehn Alain’s attendants came in with cheese and brandy. Linto hoped the subject would now quickly change.

About the Author:
James W. George is a lover of history and historical fiction. He is a graduate of Boston University and a military veteran. He is currently residing in Virginia with his wife and children.

He published his critically-acclaimed debut novel, My Father’s Kingdom in January 2017. The novel described the prelude to King Philip’s War in New England in the 1670s. The Indie View gave it five stars: “This is high historical drama handled wonderfully…a tale that will fully engage you on every level.”

My Father’s Kingdom is a planned trilogy, and book two, The Prophet and the Witch, was published in September 2017. This is an epic novel that spans the entire conflict of King Philip’s War, and includes such notable historical figures as Josiah Winslow, Increase Mather, Metacomet, Benjamin Church, and Mary Rowlandson. The Literary Titan awarded it five stars and a gold medal for October 2017.

The author is looking forward to book three of the trilogy, and he can be found on Goodreads.

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