‘The Last Island’ free worldwide until April 7.

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My publisher, Betimes Books (Ireland), is making the Kindle version of my book free worldwide until April 7. Order it here: The Last Island.

4.6 out of 5 Stars on Amazon.com.

“The novel transports the reader to this tiny piece of the world and magnifies it through his extraordinary prose, leaving the reader moved in unexpected ways. David Hogan’s The Last Island is a wonderful gift to writing.”

– Marvin Minkler, Modern First Editions

“Hogan’s adept storytelling makes us ponder our spiritual essence.”

– The Greek Star

“Delivers an unforgettable experience you won’t get anywhere else.”

 – The Reader and The Chef

“The pacing is brisk, the dialogue crisp, the imagery evocative, and the ideas and themes Hogan explores are timeless. This is a great story.”

 – 5 Star Amazon Review

You can download it here: The Last Island.

Living Forever on a Greek Island

Skopelos
Skopelos

After the first few weeks, I didn’t know what day it was.

By that, I don’t mean that I didn’t know if it was a Monday or a Tuesday. I didn’t know if it was a Monday or a Saturday. The only day I ever knew that summer was Sunday, which was marked by church bells and the voices of the psaltes (singers) in the nearby churches.

Once the churches quieted, that day unraveled like every other day, until again, on some seemingly distant and arbitrary morning, the psaltes would be heard and I would know it was Sunday again. Continue reading “Living Forever on a Greek Island”

Lying Still

Hospital Bed

When I was 17 years old, I dove into a swimming pool and broke my neck.

Until that moment, I’d been relentlessly active, my days taxed with dread of missing something somewhere. I was on the student council and participated in a wide variety of school clubs. I always secured a part in the school play and rode a unicycle in talent shows. I ran cross-country in the fall, track in the spring and was co-captain of the basketball team in between. I was an honor student who worked full-time in the summer and caddied most weekends in the spring and early fall, except on certain Sundays when I served as an altar boy. I’d never had a drink or a smoke, and I rarely swore. Yet that pleasant summer day, for reasons still unclear to me, I plunged into a six-foot deep above-ground pool and slammed the top of my head on the sloped concrete bottom. Continue reading “Lying Still”