Barbara Casey

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Barbara Casey

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Born
The United States
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Member Since
May 2011


Barbara Casey is the author of ten award-winning novels and numerous articles, poems, and short stories. She lives on a mountain in northwest Georgia with her husband, her miniature dachshund named Fitz, and Benton, a hound-mix who adopted her.

The different types of romance (subgenre) are as varied as the people who read romances. Even young adult romance has its place. These stories are light on intimacy, usually nothing heavier than a few kisses and holding hands. They deal with topics like problems with teachers, sports, weight, and shyness, but sometimes the themes move into more serious areas—bullying, death, parental divorce or...

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Published on March 23, 2015 06:43 • 92 views
Average rating: 4.01 · 94 ratings · 78 reviews · 17 distinct works · Similar authors
The Cadence of Gypsies

4.03 avg rating — 31 ratings — published 2010 — 2 editions
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Kathryn Kelly: The Moll Beh...

3.86 avg rating — 14 ratings
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The House of Kane

4.42 avg rating — 12 ratings — published 2006 — 4 editions
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The Wish Rider

3.75 avg rating — 12 ratings
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Assata Shakur: A 20th Centu...

3.70 avg rating — 10 ratings
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The Gospel According to Prissy

4.80 avg rating — 5 ratings — published 2013 — 2 editions
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The Coach's Wife

3.67 avg rating — 3 ratings — published 2004 — 3 editions
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Tutorial Lady's Guide to Al...

it was amazing 5.00 avg rating — 1 rating — published 2011
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Tutorial Lady's Guide to Cu...

it was amazing 5.00 avg rating — 1 rating — published 2012
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Tutorial Lady's Guide to De...

it was amazing 5.00 avg rating — 1 rating — published 2012
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More books by Barbara Casey…

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Barbara Casey wrote a new blog post
The different types of romance (subgenre) are as varied as the people who read romances. Even young adult romance has its place. These stories are... Read more of this blog post »
Barbara Casey rated a book it was amazing
The Gospel According to Prissy by Barbara Casey
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From concern and fear for the protagonist and the mystery surrounding characters' motives, to delight in the wise words of a young child, Barbara Casey’s latest book, The Gospel According to Prissy, will permeate the inner voice of every reader .… Du ...more
The Cadence of Gypsies by Barbara Casey
“Carolina removed an old and creased single sheet of paper, yellowed with age, that was now carefully protected in clear, acid-free paper. She handed it to Dara. "This was folded up in a parik-til, in the box with my birth certificate."

"A parik-til?" asked Jennifer.

"It is a small pouch that is filled with things to bring good luck or blessings." She held up the cloth bag and opened it for the girls to see. "Gypsies use them, but so do Native Americans as well as people from Central and South America and other parts of the world. When I got it, I had no idea what it was or what it meant. I knew the folded piece of paper was old and somehow had to be important to me since my birth parents had included it with the other things they wanted me to have." Carolina stood up and walked over to the window. How well she remembered the overwhelming emotions she felt when she first saw those pages of the Voynich Manuscript in the book she was reading, and then realizing that the ancient script was
...more
Barbara Casey
The Coach's Wife by Barbara Casey
“From somewhere Marla heard a terrifying scream--her scream--and she lunged at Martin, hitting him in the chest. When she hit him once, she couldn't stop. All of those times he had hurt her, and all of those times she had lied for him, protecting him so no one would find out. After all, he was a professional man, a doctor. He could be ruined if something like that got out. The good, kind doctor. He took care of people. He took care of her. She was one of those pitiful, unfortunate people who seemed to always have accidents. Bruises on her face and body, cuts and abrasions. It was so nice she was married to such a good doctor. Everyone admired him--auch a wonderful man. But he didn't hurt them. Only her. And now, Gale.”
Barbara Casey
More of Barbara's books…
“Carolina removed an old and creased single sheet of paper, yellowed with age, that was now carefully protected in clear, acid-free paper. She handed it to Dara. "This was folded up in a parik-til, in the box with my birth certificate."

"A parik-til?" asked Jennifer.

"It is a small pouch that is filled with things to bring good luck or blessings." She held up the cloth bag and opened it for the girls to see. "Gypsies use them, but so do Native Americans as well as people from Central and South America and other parts of the world. When I got it, I had no idea what it was or what it meant. I knew the folded piece of paper was old and somehow had to be important to me since my birth parents had included it with the other things they wanted me to have." Carolina stood up and walked over to the window. How well she remembered the overwhelming emotions she felt when she first saw those pages of the Voynich Manuscript in the book she was reading, and then realizing that the ancient script was the same as what was on the piece of paper that had been preserved in the parik-til--her parik-til. "Anyway, as soon as I saw the photographs of some of the manuscript pages in the book I was reading, I made the connection immediately. It was the same script as what was on this sheet of paper that I had been given."

All three FIGS crowded closely together to look at Carolina's treasure.”
Barbara Casey, The Cadence of Gypsies

“Hurry up, he'll be coming back pretty soon!"

Lynda spelled with a "y" Corgill, who was two years behind Dara, Mackenzie, and Jennifer, and had just completed her sophomore year, squeezed the hot glue gun into the door lock of the headmaster's office. Shelby Andrews, her accomplice and the newest resident to be accepted at Wood Rose, stood watch.

"I see the lights of the truck. Hurry! He's coming back! Are you finished?"

Lynda gave the metal apparatus one last squeeze, filling the lock with the quick-drying cement glue guaranteed to harden on contact. "Finished."

In the soft illumination of the crescent moon high overhead, the two girls, barefooted and wearing dark blue pajamas, ran across the lawn crisscrossed by dark, elongated shadows and dampened by night-cooled air to the maintenance shed where they placed the glue gun on the top shelf where it was normally kept. With their task completed, they quickly returned to the dormitory, to the far end from where Ms. Larkins slept, and crawled through the open window. Within minutes they were back in their rooms, in their individual beds, and sound asleep. The sleep of innocent angels.

It would soon be light; and Wood Rose Orphanage and Academy for Young Women would start another day.”
Barbara Casey, The Cadence of Gypsies

“Jennifer now understood the meaning of the cadence: the black and white drawing, the watercolor painting,and the notes. The cadence had at last developed into a concerto for violin, the instrument of gypsies, with a prevailing rhapsodic "leitmotif". The final movement had revealed itself when they were at the gypsy camp. And now it was complete.”
Barbara Casey, The Cadence of Gypsies

“Who am I helping, what am I breaking, what am I giving, what am I taking?”
Bob Dylan

“Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.”
Pablo Picasso
tags: art

“Hurry up, he'll be coming back pretty soon!"

Lynda spelled with a "y" Corgill, who was two years behind Dara, Mackenzie, and Jennifer, and had just completed her sophomore year, squeezed the hot glue gun into the door lock of the headmaster's office. Shelby Andrews, her accomplice and the newest resident to be accepted at Wood Rose, stood watch.

"I see the lights of the truck. Hurry! He's coming back! Are you finished?"

Lynda gave the metal apparatus one last squeeze, filling the lock with the quick-drying cement glue guaranteed to harden on contact. "Finished."

In the soft illumination of the crescent moon high overhead, the two girls, barefooted and wearing dark blue pajamas, ran across the lawn crisscrossed by dark, elongated shadows and dampened by night-cooled air to the maintenance shed where they placed the glue gun on the top shelf where it was normally kept. With their task completed, they quickly returned to the dormitory, to the far end from where Ms. Larkins slept, and crawled through the open window. Within minutes they were back in their rooms, in their individual beds, and sound asleep. The sleep of innocent angels.

It would soon be light; and Wood Rose Orphanage and Academy for Young Women would start another day.”
Barbara Casey, The Cadence of Gypsies

“Jennifer now understood the meaning of the cadence: the black and white drawing, the watercolor painting,and the notes. The cadence had at last developed into a concerto for violin, the instrument of gypsies, with a prevailing rhapsodic "leitmotif". The final movement had revealed itself when they were at the gypsy camp. And now it was complete.”
Barbara Casey, The Cadence of Gypsies

“Without saying anything, Dara gathered her pillow and one of the soft comforters from her bed and carried it into Carolina's room. Mackenzie and Jennifer followed her. They would sleep in her room that night, keeping the ice packs around her, adjusting the fan. One by one they fixed their make-shift beds on the floor, close to each other, and close to Carolina.”
Barbara Casey, The Cadence of Gypsies




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