Son of the Faith

Last week, at the suggestion of my brilliant sister in law, I made my first audio file - and then another, as a preview version of the first one. The preview file has more bells and whistles, thanks to Aurora Publicity Goddess Pam Labbe - Woo hoo! 

I was terrified about creating this, but after rehearsing the chapter I was reading about fifty times (well, really more liked fifteen), I plugged a small microphone into the phone and went at it. The Director of Digital Marketing (also brilliant) suggested the mike, and it really works to block out ambient noise.

The result is something I want to share with you, and comes from my new book, Crooked Lines: A Single Mom's Jewish Journey, which will be released on September 5 by Koehler Books.

The chapter is about the washing of the dead, and how I decided to choose this ritual for my father (shown here with me on his 93rd birthday). 

I've included the preview chapter below and you can find the full one on my website (scroll down to find the full audio file).

I recommend starting with the preview, which you can link to here.

And in case you want to read an excerpt of my Son of the Faith chapter, here you go!

Because he had never been in a war or had other intense life and death encounters, Mitch thought joining the Society would bean important experience for someone starting a career in the clergy. He also believed the Society was a group willing to do what no one else would—and that intrigued him.

I thought he was nuts. My mother and friends also thought he was nuts, but how could I tell him that? When I pressed for more details, he said he had something to show me. Instead of taking me to a funeral home, he brought me to a hair salon, where, to my surprise, he introduced me to the owner, who shook my hand and offered me a free haircut.

I watched her as she pumped my seat higher and placed herscissors out on the counter. Her name was Nancy, and she was amember of Mitch’s congregation. She was close to my age, in herlate twenties, with a fountain of long curly hair, tight black leatherpants, and long red nails.

“I heard your husband is a member of the Hevra Kadisha,” she said as she lifted my hair while grinning into the mirror. Then sheleaned over and whispered, “Me too.”

I looked up at her as she smiled. Those slender white fingers with perfectly polished nails were going out at night and washing deadpeople. What’s more, they were people Nancy knew. As she started cutting and layering, I knew I had to learn more.

Crooked Lines is now available for preorder at the following booksellers:

Indiebound

Barnes & Noble

Amazon Kindle

Amazon Paperback/Hardcover