Bullet wounds, torture and oppression
aren’t the only things that keep a man—or a woman—from being whole.
Debt. Honor.
Pain. Solitude. These are things wounded war veteran Adam Wegener knows all
about. Love—now, that he is not good
at. Not when love equals a closed fist, burns, and suicide attempts. But Adam
is one who keeps his word. He owes the man who saved his life in Iraq. And he
doesn’t question the measure of the debt, even when it is in the form of an
emotionally distant, beautiful woman.
Yasmeen agreed
to become the wife of an American veteran so she could flee persecution in
war-torn Syria. She counted on being in the United States for a short stay
until she could return home. There was one thing she did not count on: wanting more.
Is it too late
for Adam and Yasmeen?
Shadows of Damascus to be released by Soul Mate Publishing
mid January, 2014.
EXCERPT:
PROLOGUE
YASMEEN
Damascus,
Syria
Summer
2006
The
seductive fragrance of Damascus roses drifted through the open window and
flirted with fifteen-year-old Yasmeen’s olfactory senses. The potent flowers in
her neighbor’s yard delivered the best awakening. She loved beginnings,
especially early, mid-summer mornings like these. Stretching across the bed,
her imagination raced with possibilities for the promising day.
Thursday.
The day her older brother’s friends visited and stayed well into the evening.
Yasmeen ticked off potential visitors in her head, dashing young university
students who loved to talk politics with Fadi. Today, she would do her best to
discover the name of the quietest member in the group, the thin one with
round-rimmed glasses. On her nightstand, the sketch she worked on during the
last visit waited for his name, and more details around the eyes.
Peeling
off the covers, she tip-toed to the window. Lively noises matched her
optimistic mood. Nightingales sang greetings. Clanging dishes and pots
resonated from surrounding houses beyond high walls. Mothers called out for
their daughters to get breakfast ready. Men’s deep voices describing fresh
fruits and vegetables with tempting traditional phrases drifted above hidden
alleys. One vendor claimed his cucumbers were small as baby fingers, and
likened his ripe apples to a virgin bride’s cheeks. Another boasted his plum
peaches shed their covers without enticement, and his shy eggplants hid well in
a moonless night.
Yasmeen
succumbed to the enlivening chaos spilling in from her bedroom window, her own
special and personal opening to the world. Tilting her head back, she exposed
her face and neck to the sun, allowing its invigorating rays to paint her
cheeks.
Today,
her mother told her she would be allowed to take a coffee tray into Fadi’s room
once all his friends arrived. What would she wear? She should tell her best
friend Zainab to stop by earlier than usual to go through her wardrobe. She
could help her decide. Perhaps one of Fadi’s friends would notice her. More
than one? Why not?
Draping
her arms on the windowsill, she looked at the neighbor’s yard, counting the
blooming roses, a ritual she performed each morning since the season started.
In the north corner of the largest flowerbed, two violet buds grabbed her
attention, their delicate petals about to unfold. Once they came to full bloom,
their deep purple color would dominate the landscape.
A
knock sounded at her door.
“I
am awake.”
Her
father walked in. “Good. We have work to do.” He held a hammer in one hand and
a couple of boards in the other. “Move aside, Yasmeen.” He approached the
window.
She
stepped away and pointed at the boards. “What do you need those for?”
Her
father closed the windowpanes, locked them, placed one board across the frame,
and hammered it in place.
“What
are you doing?”
“This
window is not to be opened again, child.”
She
could not believe her ears. “Why?”
“Neighbors
moved out last night.” Her father nailed the second board in place. “Mukhabarat
took over their house.”
INTERVIEW:
1. What
are four things you can’t live without?
Books, coffee, music and personal space.
2. What is
your favorite television show?
Mad Men.
3. What is
something you’ve lied about?
As a child, I lied about many things. I had
a very active imagination, and telling lies was a natural thing for me. It
drove my parents crazy trying to get me to understand the consequences. I
remember the day I made the decision to stop telling lies. I was nine years old
sitting with my family in the living room. My father had brought windshield
shades for his car that rolled on themselves with springs. It wasn’t something
particularly interesting or unique, but I found it fascinating. I kept
unrolling the plastic shades, and then letting them snap back on the springs.
My father told me to be careful, that I might hurt myself, or rip the shades
with the repetitive motion. I didn’t listen, and of course, I ended up tearing
the sheet in half. Right there, in front of everyone to see. I did it. No one
else was to blame, no one was even near me.
My first reaction was to vehemently deny it
was me. I kept insisting it wasn’t me who damaged the shades, and I remember
the look in my father’s eyes. It wasn’t anger or disappointment. I think it was
bewilderment. He was probably trying to understand why I was lying, when there
was no doubt I was the culprit, with eyewitnesses and everything.
My father took me outside the room, came
down on his knees to look me in the eye and he said, “You know you are lying,
and I know you are lying. What do you think we should do about that?”
I decided at that moment, that I would
punish myself by putting an end to my lying. It took so much effort, and I
struggled against my natural tendency to make up stories and fabricate events.
But I did it. I told my father that I would tell the truth from then on.
Frankly, sometimes I think he wishes I didn’t.
4. Who is
the last person you hugged?
My daughter.
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Lilas Taha is a writer at
heart, an electrical engineer by training, and an advocate for domestic abuse
victims by choice. She was born in Kuwait to a Syrian mother and a Palestinian
father, and immigrated to the U.S. as a result of the Gulf war in 1990. She
earned a master’s degree in Human Factors Engineering from the University of
Wisconsin- Madison. There, Lilas met her beloved husband and true friend, and
moved with him to Sugar Land, Texas to establish a family. She is the proud
mother of a daughter and a son. Instead of working in an industrial field, she
applied herself to the field of social safety, working with victims of domestic
violence.
Pursuing her true passion
for creative writing, Lilas brings her professional interests, and her Middle
Eastern background together in her debut fictional novel, Shadows of Damascus.
Website: www.lilastaha.com
Author
Facebook Page: www.facebook.com/LilasTahaAuthor
Blog: http://lilastaha.blogspot.com
Twitter:
Follow @LilasTaha https://twitter.com/LilasTaha
LinkedIn: http://www.linkedin.com/in/lilastaha
Email: info@lilastaha.com
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/Lilas_Taha
Facebook page for the book: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Shadows-of-Damascus
Buy Links:
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Shadows-Damascus-Lilas-Taha-ebook/dp/B00HUZUG8Y/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1389749986&sr=8-1&keywords=Shadows+of+Damascus
GIVEAWAY:
Prizes for the tour are as follows:
• One randomly chosen commenter will win a $50 Amazon/BN.com
gift card.
•
Two randomly chosen hosts will each receive a $25 Amazon/BN.com gift card.
I really enjoyed your comments. Loved how you handled the lying.
ReplyDeleteMomJane, thank God none of my children had my ability to fabricate things.
DeleteNice interview
ReplyDeletebn100, nice to connect with you here.
DeleteYour book excerpt has intrigued me…looking forward to reading it soon.
ReplyDeletePatrick, Thanks. I hope you do and send me some feedback or post a review on Amazon, if you will.
DeleteMany thanks for hosting me, and giving me the chance to talk about my book.
ReplyDeleteI could live without music, but not books or personal space.
ReplyDelete