Excerpt from The Madonna Secret

The Madonna Secret has officially been published!

The Madonna Secret has arrived. I’m sharing a small excerpt from the first section of the book The Tower today. Image above is by Leon Carre.

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I could see Yosseph, seated at the men’s table. He laughed heartily, using his slender hands to eat. Occasionally his face would appear serious, his wide lips pressing into a line as he listened to someone. He looked like a king, dressed in his fine clothes. Solomon from the stories my father had told me when I was younger! A sparkling brooch was pinned to his purple cloak.

Later, when the lamps had been relit and cast their pure white tongues upon the stone walls, I got up to go. Many would stay at the tables until the last of the wine had been drunk. The women were already drifting away to reconvene at the cooking fires in the courtyard. Stories and gossip would be exchanged. Mothers would play with their children’s hair.

I resolved to slip away. But I was surprised when Yosseph appeared in the door to the courtyard. His cloak was askew over his shoulder and his hair, usually oiled into place, was rumpled as if he had run his hands through it several times. He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms across his chest, smiling too easily.

“Behold!” Yosseph whispered huskily. “You are beautiful! Your eyes are doves!”

“Yosseph! You are drunk!” I cried, jumping back as he reached out for me.

“True. Aren’t you?” His eyes glittered with confidence and entitlement. “You are Solomon’s beloved tonight, Miriam. A rose of Sharon. A lily of the valley!” Throwing out his arm like he was about to perform a song, he recited perfectly:

“Awake, north wind; and come, you south!
Blow on my garden, that its spices may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden,
and taste his precious fruits!”

It was my favorite scripture: the Song of Solomon, and it dripped with pollen and pomegranate wine and frankincense. Deer jumping through the syllables. Trees furred with needles and moss sprouting through the lines. Words fashioned from fragrance and bodily desire.

Yes! I thought, feeling drunk myself. Love is holy. I had almost forgotten. God inspired this poetry. Maybe there are secret things I can only understand with my body. With my love for a man.

“Miriam . . .” Yosseph was just tall enough that he could have rested his sharp, freshly shaved chin on my head. But he was staring down at me, staring at my lips, daring me to come closer. I tilted my face up. Our chests brushed and one of his hands grabbed mine, squeezing my fingers tightly. The low light had the effect of flattening his angular, well-formed face into a sort of drawing. He looked like an idea—like a king of old stories, preserved only as a few lines of pretty poetry, a gestured painting fading on an old stone wall. His breath smelled like bread and heat.

“Miriam. I would make you my wife.”

“Then make me your wife,” I said, hating myself. Loving myself. Knowing that by saying yes to Yosseph I was saying no to something else…

The Madonna Secret arrived August 16th. You can read more about the book here and order from any online bookseller.

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