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Keeping it Kosher (lite)

As some of you may know, I set out to write Celestial Persuasion when I came across this painting of Mariquita Sanchez de Thompson. This scene depicts the moment when the Argentine national anthem was sung for the very first time.

The image of ladies and gentlemen in Regency attire was far from what I had expected to find in colonial Argentina. To tell the truth, I would have expected full crinoline skirts and impressive peinetas, such as we find in the satirical work of Cesar Hipolito Bacle.

By delving into the aftermath of the May Revolution of 1810, I discovered that the aristocracy of Buenos Aires was more inclined to follow the fashion trends of Paris or even London. The influence coming from across the pond was not to be denied!

I began connecting the dots and weaved a tale that included English noblemen and naval officers, along with the liberator of Spanish America: Jose de San Martin. Establishing a friendship in between Jane Austen’s Captain Wentworth and my own fictional character, Jonathan Isaacs, was the next step in the process.

Next, I began looking to incorporate that bit of yiddishkeit that is so crucial to my work. For example, I wanted to ensure that the Jewish holidays mentioned throughout the novel occurred in accordance to the Hebrew calendar. In the prologue, Abigail Isaacs writes to her brother, describing their father’s passing—just prior to his favorite holiday: Pesach (Passover).

I must assume that you have not received my news from home, and knowing how you are impatient with all but the essentials, allow me to put it to you in words so familiar they could be your own: our dear papa died on March 26th on the eve of Rosh Chodesh—sadly a little more than a week before his favorite holiday. He had been looking forward to leading the Passover seder this year; but then again, he had been unwell for several months and refused to change his habits.

Rosh Chodesh is mentioned several times throughout the novel, as are other holidays, such as the High Holy Days and Chanukah. I suppose I could have picked any date when these events “usually” occur; but it was important to be accurate, particularly when it came to a certain battle that took place on February 3, 1813. Hopefully, the following snippet helps to explain…

“San Martín plans to engage with a Spanish royalist force in one month’s time,” he muttered beneath his breath. “When do you expect to travel to witness your monumental natural event?”

She grimaced at the small sound emitting from her lips. “I must be in residence at the beginning of the month, though I do not believe it is any of your concern.” Rethinking her statement, Abigail’s voice grew with enthusiasm. “Mr. Gabay!” she exclaimed, “has he chosen the exact date?”

“You cannot imagine that I would share that information, Miss Isaacs.”

Vehemently she shook her head. “I care not for your confidences, at least for the reasons you may suspect. I only ask that you heed me, sir. I must be in Rosario for Rosh Chodesh. There will be a new moon on the first of February. The night’s sky will be sufficiently darkened to allow for maximum visibility of galactic activity. Do you understand my meaning?”

The Battle of San Lorenzo was a turning point for the rebels fighting the Spanish crown. If I wanted to showcase the event in my story—and have it coincide with Rosh Chodesh—it had to be… kosher. I knew I had to get it right! First, I researched the status of the moon phase in February 1813. I found that information here and here. Then, I checked to see if the Gregorian calendar aligned with the Hebrew calendar. I found that here and here. It worked out!

Throughout the story, we follow Abigail as she celebrates Shabbat and Havdalah. Granted, her family is no longer as pious as when her mother lived. Nevertheless, when Abigail is called to London to meet Lord Fife, she ensures to take her ritual items. And when she and Mrs. Frankel find themselves aboard a frigate sailing across the Atlantic, I made sure to incorporate an every day nautical item into a pivotal scene.

Wrapping up warmly in her darkest cape, Abigail reached for the lantern perched above the dresser. It was the same lantern she and Mrs. Frankel had been instructed to use for the Sabbath, for it came equipped with a sliding shutter to darken the room without extinguishing the candle. Abigail smiled, recalling the cabin boy’s shock at their request to kindle the Shabbos candles whilst aboard the ship. He had gone on for nearly a quarter of an hour outlining the hazards and noting the fire stations that equipped every passageway in the event of a crisis...

Abigail had been correct in her estimation. The men were gallivanting en masse at the forecastle and she could remain in peace to the aft. She allowed herself to be guided by the lantern’s light but closed the shutter when she reached her chosen destination and waited for her eyes to grow accustomed to the darkness. In truth, it was a perfect night for stargazing as they had just entered into the new moon phase. Without the moonlight, the galaxy’s core was visible in all its splendor, and Abigail stood immobile in awe of the spectacle before her.

How many minutes had transpired, she could not say for certain. She felt tears trickle down her cheeks, but she could not be bothered to wipe them away. How she longed to share the moment with Jonathan! Not to scribble down the longitude and latitude of their location. Not to calculate or measure, but simply to stand and observe the immensity of it all and to understand her place in the universe. Her tears had dried where they had fallen, but with the wind picking up, she could once again feel bits of salt water on her cheeks as the waves began to swell. It was not until she heard the men shouting and witnessed the crew running hither and thither that Abigail was obliged to return to her room.

She retraced her footsteps to find the ladder once more. The descent, she hoped, would prove to be easier; but as she stepped down off the last rung, the wind and waves combined and exerted such a force on the ship that Abigail lost her balance. With flailing hands she attempted to seize hold of something that would steady her feet; but the action cost her dearly, for the lantern slipped from her grasp and the candle was extinguished. She crept along the passageway, holding on to the walls, helpless in the dark, until the ship pitched suddenly and she felt herself tumble forward.

As my outline began unfolding, I found that I quite liked the town of Exeter for the Isaacs family. The obvious problem was that I knew next to nothing about Devonshire as it related to Jews. Imagine my delight when I came across the wealth of information located here and here. Actually, there are pages and pages of data relating to the Jewish history in this particular county. I not only discovered the location of Exeter’s synagogue, but its officiant as well. Naturally, I had to showcase Abigail’s relationship with her rabbi and her place of worship.

In addition, this map created by Braun & Hogenberg in 1617 helped me visualize the Isaacs hometown.

Approaching the mile mark, she passed St. Thomas’s chapel and the many farms that dotted Byrd’s Lane. Abigail was flooded with bittersweet memories and recalled walking toward the synagogue, her small hand held by her mother, while Jonathan raced ahead and her father followed behind at a leisurely pace. They would meet friends along the way, and the adults would catch up on the weekly gossip before entering the house of worship. Ezekiel and Kitty Jacobs, her parents’ closest friends, had been amongst the founders of the synagogue, for they applied to St. Mary Arches Church to lease the ground for its erection. Whenever Jonathan would complain of the rabbi’s lengthy sermons, Mr. Jacobs would tell the story of the synagogue’s consecration.

Lastly, I wanted my story to lay the foundation for the establishment of the Jewish Colonization Association. Headed by financier and renown philanthropist, Baron Maurice von Hirsch and his wife, Baroness Clara, this organization was created decades after Argentina’s declared independence. However, had it not been for such forward thinking individuals such Wilhelm Loewenthal, a Romanian doctor conducting research in the area, Rabbi Zadoc Kahn, Chief Rabbi of Paris, or my fictional Lieutenant Gabay with his pipe dreams, who is to say if the seeds of change would have come to fruition.

The Battle of San Lorenzo took place in 1813 in the province of Santa Fe. A little over 70 years later, a group of Jews escaping pogroms and persecution in Imperial Russia settled in a town about three hours away from that battlefield. They named their new home Kiryat Moshe, or Town of Moses, to honor Maurice Hirsch. The land agent, who may or may not have been of French origin, registered the name to his own liking and the town became known as Moisés Ville. The inhabitants, these so-called Jewish gauchos, were the first to create a Jewish agricultural colony in Argentina. Of course, my characters had no notion of what was to come, but they had hope.

Captain Wentworth, my last piece of news may be the greatest surprise of all. Mr. Gabay and I shall not reside in Buenos Aires for long. When the fight for independence has been won, my Mr. Gabay—who never intended to make the military his career—will resign his commission. We shall repair to my father’s property in Rosario, where I will be at liberty to continue my research and Mr. Gabay will begin his work in helping the Jewish communities of the Russian Empire. Santa Fe is a wide and open land. Refugees of all faiths and backgrounds may surely make this place their new homeland and dwell in peace without persecution. Praise God, everything does indeed happen for a reason.

Thanks for stopping by. I hope you enjoyed the post!

Until next time,

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Jane Austen & Jewish Themes Part V~ Delving into Diversity

I’ve been addressing Jane Austen’s work and the correlating themes found in Judaic text. The reason for this exercise stems from my desire to find historical fiction or historical romance novels that contain a modicum of Judaica. Of course, Austen’s work isn’t considered historical fiction. Her stories were contemporary; her readers would have recognized their world amongst the backdrop of her settings. But that’s not my point. Sorry!

While I have scoured endless book titles and conducted mind numbing Internet searches in the hopes of finding some hidden gem, I have very little to show for my effort. That was the impetus to take pen in hand, so to speak, and to write my own fanfiction. And why not? Jane Austen’s work continues to inspire and entertain a diverse, world-wide audience. We are presented with modern interpretations of her classics novels, time-travel storylines, and narratives that focus on any number of ethnicities and cultures. Evidently, our thirst for new and tantalizing Austenesque plots and themes is not so easily quenched! And for this particular reader, it seemed only logical that the Jewish community be represented in Austen’s fandom.

That being said, I am not an advocate of racelifting. By that I mean, I have no need to replace a character’s Anglican faith for Judaism. I am satisfied with the introduction of Jewish protagonists and themes that are a true reflection of our community as a whole. For other authors and readers, I understand that it is imperative to see a Jewish character cast in the original role. And that’s okay. That’s the magic of fanfiction. In The Meyersons of Meryton, I introduce a rabbi and his family to Austen’s fictional town in Hertfordshire. In Celestial Persuasion, I create a friendship in-between Captain Wentworth and the Isaacs siblings that stretches far beyond England’s shores. With Destiny by Design~ Leah’s Journey, I showcase a story that is loosely based on my ancestors’ experiences. Although this novel is not a J.A.F.F. (Jane Austen Fan Fiction), there is a definite nod to the author and her work. These novels, along with my first title, Becoming Malka, are my small contribution to the lesser known genres of Jewish Historical Fiction and Jewish Historical Romance.

As we are now officially in the “holiday season,” there is an opportunity to address diversity and Jewish characters in other forms of entertainment. For example, Hallmark has attempted to incorporate Jewish storylines and characters in their holiday lineup. These shows are a bit cringe-worthy, I’ll admit it, but at least they’re trying. I’d encourage them to try a little harder. While I do want to see Jewish representation in these soapy movies, I do not want to see Hanukkah downgraded to a Christmas-wanna-be. The whole point of the Maccabean revolt was not to assimilate to the dominating culture. It is a fine line, I understand. Hallmark can do better.

Over at Disney, we were introduced to a Jewish heroine for one episode of Elena of Avalor. The character is supposed to be a Sephardic princess, but she uses Yiddish terminology and speaks of Ashkenazi traditions. And, I’m sorry to say, the princess is not very attractive. Like the folks over at Hallmark, the imagineers could have put forth more effort. This piece needed a little more research into the character’s cultural background and a lot more generosity in developing her aesthetic. Perhaps they could have taken a page from the variety of diverse characters showing up in other animation, comics, and television series and given the Jewish community a proper heroine.

And speaking of television, did you hear the collective “oy!” when fans of Downton Abbey found out that Lady Crawley’s father was Jewish? The writers did not stop there. The series also introduced a Jewish family of the upper echelons of society. Apparently, Lord Sinderby’s family had fled the pogroms and persecution of Imperial Russia some sixty years ago. Sparks fly when his son, Ephraim (he goes by his second name, Atticus) meets and falls in love with Lady Rose…who is not Jewish. This all-too-familiar predicament, as well as other issues of anti-Semitism in Edwardian England, are brought to the forefront. While I was not entirely pleased with the outcome, I was glad that at least our community’s presence was addressed.

With the success of Sanditon and Bridgerton—and the plethora of costume dramas in the world today— it seems clear we are in need of the escapism that these shows provide. We fantasize and yearn for the days of polite society and social graces. How much more pleasing is it to read a novel or watch a show that allows one to identify with a character— someone who stands to represent one’s community, one’s values, and heritage in a positive light? It is time to come out from the shadows of the likes of Heyer, Dickens, and Shakespeare. Their Jewish characters were cliché and demeaning. The Jewish community has played a proud and active role in nearly every culture around the world. We are connected to that history by a chain that spans over five thousand years.

Jane Austen certainly instilled her biblical knowledge and values into her novels. She commented on societal issues with her wit and keen power of observation. Her readers, no doubt, recognized and identified with these truths. If one of my books brings a sense of connection, a sense of community, a sense of pride to a Jewish reader, I would have fulfilled my goal. My books are a link in that ancient chain. They are another opportunity to say: Hineini —I am here. We are here. And we’re not going anywhere.

Chag Chanukah Sameach!

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Jane Austen & Jewish Themes Part IV

Throughout this series, I have been looking at Jewish themes that can be found in Jane Austen’s work. That’s not to say that the renown author intentionally incorporated Judaic messages in her writing; however, as I’ve pointed out in my previous posts, Austen was raised in an observant environment and would have been quite at home quoting from the Good Book or referencing various biblical storylines. I am enjoying finding the similarities. I hope you are too!

SELICHAH, MECHILAH, and KAPPARAH ~ The different forms of Forgiveness. 

I previously touched upon the subject of repentance, but the matter requires further discussion. The theme of granting forgiveness can be found in nearly every book that Jane Austen penned. Just think for a moment. Elizabeth forgives Darcy, Elinor forgives Edward, Fanny forgives Edmund, and everyone is only too willing to forgive Emma!

Illustration by C.E. Brock

In Persuasion, we are introduced to a couple long separated by distance and pride.  Captain Frederick Wentworth has spent years holding a grudge, nursing his bruised ego and feeling the victim. For those who don’t know the story: Miss Anne Elliot had entered into an understanding with the gentleman, but —for better or for worse—was persuaded to end the budding relationship. Years pass before the two are brought back together again. Captain Wentworth tells his new friends that he finds Miss Anne, “altered beyond his knowledge.” Ruthless, heartless man! The gentleman is still licking his wounds…

He had not forgiven Anne Elliot. She had used him ill, deserted and disappointed him; and worse, she had shewn a feebleness of character in doing so, which his own decided, confident temper could not endure.”

It has been eight years and he still didn’t understand her! Had he used the time to reflect and to try to comprehend Anne’s actions, it would have been emotionally and mentally healthier for all concerned. Of course, that would have changed the arc of the story and no one understood that better than Austen.

In Northanger Abbey, we are introduced to a young lady just coming out into society. She has very little to say in her favor; and in fact, our heroine spends her days daydreaming and imagining herself the helpless victim of some gothic novel.

No one who had ever seen Catherine Morland in her infancy would have supposed her born to be a heroine.”

Catherine is invited to stay with family friends in Bath, and finds herself, quite suddenly, in over her head. With no real experience of socializing with others who have more—shall we say—life experiences, her naivete and imagination run wild. She wrongly suspects General Tilney (the father of the young man she comes to admire) of a crime he did not commit. In the end, she is somewhat exonerated, but the acknowledgment doesn’t come without some distress.

Your imagination may be overactive, but your instinct was true. Our mother did suffer grievously and at the hands of our father…No vampires, no blood. But worse crimes, crimes of the heart.”

Like any biblical story that focuses on Teshuva, Catherine experiences growth through pain. She recognizes her failings, repents, and determines to improve her behavior. The arc of her story is in keeping with Austen’s philosophy. The mean-spirted and conniving Thorpe siblings, however, do not see the error of their ways and they suffer for it. Austen uses their storyline to illustrate her point once again. Those who merit a HEA (happily ever after) will be rewarded in the end.

My characters shall have, after a little trouble, all that they desire.”

I can’t help but think of the period leading up to the holiest of days in the Jewish calendar: Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. We begin by commemorating the holiday of Selichot and use the time before “the gates begin to close” to think of those we have wronged.

Asking for forgiveness, for selichah, is the first step we must take. This is where we realize our error, we apologize to the injured party, and we show remorse.

When our poor behavior has caused much pain, we speak of mechilah. We ask that our transgressions be wiped away. We want things to be as they were; or better yet, to go on stronger than before. This can prove to be difficult for the injured party; for though many of us can forgive, it is very difficult to completely forget.

If the wrongdoing is of biblical proportions, a person may feel they are not worthy of forgiveness. They believe that there can’t be a positive outcome, no matter the excuse, no matter how many promises are made. Most people are not capable of forgiving an act of this magnitude. In fact, the forgiveness we seek, the kapparah, is beyond human capacity. The atonement, in fact, comes from a higher source, such as on Yom Kippur. This is when G-d looks into your heart, sees your repentance and says, “Be comforted.”

Illustration by C.E. Brock

In Persuasion, Jane Austen presents us with a scenario that is just as relevant today as it was three hundred years ago. Secure in his righteousness, Captain Wentworth needlessly wallows in Anne’s perceived betrayal. Obstinately holding on to his resentment only succeeds in polluting his view of the truth! Their meeting again gives them both a second chance to speak their heart. It’s a story full of angst and it is sometimes intolerable to witness their pain. When the captain overhears Anne speaking of love and loss to another gentleman, he finally comes clean. Captain Wentworth writes to Anne and bares his soul—as he should have done years ago.

You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant.”

In the ensuing paragraphs, Austen satisfies our need for the couple’s reconciliation. Anne and Frederick speak honestly to one another, exposing their vulnerabilities and the various misunderstandings that led to such despair. They forgive one another (selichah), their love is stronger for it (mechilah); and because they merit a HEA, they are comforted (kapparah). Quintessential Austen. Brilliant. Just brilliant!

In my latest novel, Celestial Persuasion, it is clear that Miss Abigail Isaacs shares similar characteristics with her newfound friend, Captain Wentworth. Fear and resentment have colored her view, not only of her ever-changing circumstances, but of a certain gentleman. As Mr. Bennet— of Pride and Prejudice fame— urges: read on, friend, read on…


A soft scratch upon the door shook her out of her musings, miserable and disheartening as they were. Abigail bade the interloper to enter, as she wiped away her tears.

“I have brought you some broth, my dear,” said Mrs. Frankel. “I thought you might be hungry, as we had not had to opportunity to dine. Do you think you might take a little?”

“I am much too shaken to eat, though I thank you for your concern. Will you not have it in my stead?”

“I have had some sent to my room, Avileh. I will leave you to rest then—oh, but I nearly forgot!” Mrs. Frankel exclaimed. “I have a letter for you, my dear. It is from Mr. Gabay.”

“Mr. Gabay! Whatever could he want? He barely spoke two words together in my presence. I fear his affections have been won over by Miss Kendall, Frankie dearest. They must have quarreled, for he was scowling all evening. Did you not notice?”

“No, indeed. However did you come to such a conclusion? Truly, my dear, you can see clear into the heavens but you cannot see what stands right before you.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Never you mind. Have a bit of your soup and read your letter,” she insisted, placing the envelope upon the bed. “Good-night, my dear.”

Abigail watched as Mrs. Frankel closed the door behind her. She eyed the broth with little interest and settled her gaze upon the letter instead. What could he have to say? Another jest? Another commentary on the state of the new union? Upon closer inspection, she noted that he had hastily folded the missive, it had not been sealed and it had not been addressed. Though she had had her fill of surprises to last a lifetime, her curiosity would not be neglected. She would read his letter and be done with it. For what could he possibly have to say that would lighten her heart?


What do you think? Will Mr. Gabay’s words cause more harm than good? Will Abigail be able to forgive past transgressions, even if that means forgiving herself? I invite you to read the story and come to your own conclusions. Until next time, thank you for stopping by!

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Jane Austen & Jewish Themes Part III

In this series, I have been examining the works of Jane Austen and finding parallel lessons within the vast teachings of Judaism. I am not a literary scholar or theologian, but I am drawn to the subject and am enjoying my findings. I hope that you, dear reader, feel the same way. As the title suggests, this is the third post of the series. I began by pointing out the long-held Jewish tradition of midrash~ the reworking of sacred text in order to personalize a story or to reimagine a story in a different setting. It is my theory that Jane Austen had mastered this skill. She was raised by an Anglican minister and was devout in her faith. Having been exposed to the sacred text of the Five Books of Moses (the Pentateuch) the whole of her life, she would have easily been able to combine her knowledge with her wit and keen sense of observation in the creation of her novels.

Lo tov heyot ha-adam le’vado ~ It is not good for Man to be alone

I realize that the quote mentioned above is from Genesis, but are you familiar with the Book of Ruth? I find even a cursory review of that story—or any story in the Torah, for that matter—shares similar socioeconomic truths found in Austen’s fictional town or settings. Don’t believe me? I offer Sense and Sensibility as an example for comparison. In the biblical story, Naomi (Mrs. Dashwood) has lost her husband. Her sons are out of the picture as well (think Mr. John Dashwood). She is practically penniless and loses her home (Norland Park). Naomi (Mrs. Dashwood) has lost her place in society without the protection of her men. We are then introduced to Ruth, one of Naomi’s daughters-in-law. In my mind, Elinor Dashwood matches Ruth’s stalwart qualities. Ruth is the fearless, faithful, and rational daughter. Ruth (Elinor) strives to maintain some order and to see her family flourish once again. In comes Boaz, a man alone (Mr. Edward Ferrars or Colonel Brandon, if you prefer) to save the day!

Whether we read Torah or an Austen novel, we understand that the marriage state is desirable for the female protagonist. It ensures her financial and physical wellbeing. For the male, marriage obviously allows for the continuity of the family line; an heir to take on the role of provider and protector. Marriage, of course, is a sacred and divine institution. Entering into this holy covenant is a necessity to propagate the human race (Gen. 1:28). But in order for the marriage to be successful, both the biblical author and our Regency author require that the couple have a deeper understanding of the importance of morality and their significant role in preserving the fabric of society. It is evident in both types of stories that happy endings are granted to those of moral character. Elinor exudes this characteristic. When Marianne asks her sister how she could bear her disappointment regarding the loss of Edward, Elinor replies:

By feeling that I was doing my duty. My promise to Lucy, obliged me to be secret. I owed it to her, therefore, to avoid giving any hint of the truth; and I owed it to my family and friends, not to create in them a solicitude about me… I did not love only him; and while the comfort of others was dear to me, I was glad to spare them from knowing how much I felt.”

Elinor Dashwood is held up as a role model. We are meant to admire her qualities, to condole with her when she suffers, and to celebrate her merited happiness. In our biblical story, we know that Boaz admires Ruth’s dignified and modest behavior. He feels protective of her and fulfills his duty towards Ruth— that is, once the scene is set and all obstacles to their union are removed. Likewise, Elinor and Edward find their happiness. But the couple is only rewarded because they adhered to societal rules and remained fixed to their moral compass. The story would not have the same meaning if Edward reneged on his promise to Lucy and ran into Elinor’s waiting arms. Not wanting to leave Colonel Brandon on his own, Austen grants Miss Marianne and the gentleman their H.E.A. as well; but only after the young lady reevaluates her life, and is found deserving of such happiness.

My illness has made me think…My feelings shall be governed and my temper improved. They shall…be regulated, [they] shall be checked by religion, by reason , by constant employment.”

Naturally, Austen does not grant Lucy Steele the same consideration as the other couples. Lucy doesn’t deserve it, neither does her popinjay-of-a-husband, Robert Ferrars. To do so would go against Austen’s philosophy and theology. I’m certain the biblical author would agree.

In my latest novel, Celestial Persuasion, Abigail Isaacs is a young lady with many unique qualities. Charts and instruments and mathematical equations are her forte; but when it comes to matters of the heart, Abigail is at a loss. Having known disappointment at a tender age, she is quite determined not to err again. Don’t misunderstand me, dear reader. She no longer finds fault with the young man of her youth. Oh no. She squarely lays the blame at her own door. Because of this, Abigail decides she can’t trust her instincts. The intoxicating sensations of her first love are overwhelming, they cloud her judgment and eclipse her path.

In the following passage, see how Abigail unburdens her heart to a new friend, Mariquita Sanchez de Thompson.


Mariquita smiled. “I know what it means to live in the shadow of men. But no more of that! All this talk of study and work…what of love? Why have you not married?”

“Ah, here is a frequent and familiar question. You must seek alliance with Mrs. Frankel and join in her enduring campaign.” Abigail thought to make light of it but sensed she would fail. “In truth, it is a painful subject to discuss.”

“If it haunts you so, perhaps you do better to share it with a friend. It will extinguish the power it holds over your heart.”

Abigail arose and began to pace the length of the gallery. She battled with the emotions that raged within and recognized that a transformation was, indeed, under way. The girl she had been in Exeter would not have dreamed of exchanging such intimate history with a relative stranger. But she recalled Mariquita’s candid declaration of her own tribulations and now felt tempted to pronounce her own.

“I was but seventeen when I found myself in love,” began Abigail. “I was a pretty young thing then and believed myself quite capable of living a happy, full life as a wife. His name was Mr. Bloom. Gabriel Bloom. He was four-and-twenty when he came to live with us, as an apprentice to my father’s medical practice. I had taken one look at him and fell under his power. His golden hair and light eyes shone like the sun. Everyone who knew him could not help but enjoy being in his presence.” She paused, staring across the garden yet seeing something altogether different in her mind’s eye.

“And was he a good student? Did he hold your father’s favor?”

“No, not at all. In fact, he would fail miserably at his tasks. But such was his affability, that my father granted him leniency time and time again. As time progressed, Papa could no longer disregard the errors or his lack of skill. Gabriel would laugh even as Papa scolded him. The admonishments continued, and yet Gabriel would not be moved. Somehow he believed his patients would heal, and better themselves, simply by his caring heart and tender ministrations. And then one day, Gabriel offered for me and promised a life full of laughter and adoration. I was mesmerized; his conquest was complete, and I willingly accepted.”

“Did your father dismiss Mr. Bloom from his service?”

She shook her head, as a tear made its way down her cheek. “If only that had been the case. Perhaps it would have been Gabriel’s salvation—and mine. What came to pass was altogether more painful. Papa had gone to Uppercross, a village not far from home. There had been a fever spreading around the villagers, but we had not thought it had reached Exeter or the surrounding farms. That evening, we had a knock upon the door. It was one of our neighbors, distraught and concerned for his babe. The child had broken out in a rash and was burning with a fever.”

“Oh, my dear!” cried Mariquita. “Tell me your father returned in time to save the child.”

“He did not. I begged Gabriel not to go in my father’s stead, but he chided my lack of faith. Quoting some witticism, he packed away his potions and powders with no regard to my pleas. Instead he rushed out following in the farmer’s footsteps.”

Abigail returned to her place alongside her friend and took up her now-tepid tea as if it could provide the sustenance necessary to complete her story. “The child did not survive, and when my father returned, he found a shell of a man. Gabriel could not forgive himself, though my father had reviewed the case and found no error had been committed. For weeks he suffered from a merciless depression. He refused to work; and when my father pressed him, one night at my urging, Gabriel became incensed. He railed at us, saying that we were in the wrong. How could he claim any happiness for himself? he demanded. He thought himself unworthy of any such absolution.”

“Indeed, it is a sorrowful tale,” said Mariquita.

“Gabriel left that evening, late at night when we were all abed. He scribbled a note begging my father’s forgiveness—and mine. My father wrote to his home and sought information from his parents. They had not heard from him in months. Then, one day, a patient came to the house. He told my father he had seen Gabriel Bloom in Plymouth. He was penniless—a vagrant, they said. I thought of him, wandering the streets, alone and miserable. Such needless suffering. I was heartbroken, but that sentiment rapidly evolved into something darker. I grew angry and afraid. You see, I had trusted him implicitly. All prudent thoughts were lost when I was with him, his hold over me was absolute. Had I followed Mr. Bloom in his wake of self-destruction, I would have condemned myself.”

“For all his devil-may-care affectations, it seems the poor young man was not strong enough to face life’s trials,” Mariquita replied. “You, my dear friend, are much stronger. Of that there can be no doubt.”

“Yet, sometimes, in the deepest, darkest part of the night,” Abigail murmured, “when the house is silent and still, I feel I understand him completely.”

“How so, querida?”

“I have come to Buenos Aires to start my life anew, but my heart remains heavy. I have lost everyone I have ever loved. My brother’s life was taken mercilessly. My mother and father are gone, long before their time. And I lost my Mr. Bloom—my only love, I fear.”

“Why should that be? You are young yet.”

Abigail’s weary sigh affirmed her resignation. “Like Mr. Bloom, I am not altogether certain that I merit much happiness. No, I will live out my days filling each moment with productivity and, hopefully, in service to others.”

“That is utter foolishness!” cried Mariquita. “Once I have you securely tucked under my wing, you will soon heal your wounds and fly free! And there are many of my acquaintance who are—let us say, they are well situated in society. You will wish to speak to them about your projects.”

The impromptu meeting did much to unite the women, for the bonds of friendship are made stronger when put to the test. Mariquita made her farewells with the understanding that they would meet in two days’ time. As she saw the carriage off, Abigail sent up a prayer of gratitude. She had never spoken of this burden, though she believed Mrs. Frankel had some notion of it, for she was known to recite Deuteronomy chapter and verse whenever she saw Abigail appear downhearted: I have set before you life and death, the blessing and the curse, And you shall choose life

Gabriel Bloom did not do away with his life, but neither did he choose to live it. Did she truly wish to follow in his footsteps? Did she have the courage to live life to its fullest? Her head began to ache, the emotions of the morning wiping away any impetus to work. She found a cozy nook with a comfortable chair. Settling in under a soft coverlet, Abigail closed her eyes and was soon fast asleep.


I mentioned earlier that Abigail is a young lady accustomed to calibrating instruments and taking measurements. She jots down her findings and follows their projected trajectories. But will she follow her internal compass and allow love into her heart, or will she reject all the signs—Heaven sent, or otherwise— and continue to walk alone? You’ll have to read the story and find out for yourself. Next time, we’ll look at Persuasion and Northanger Abbey. Thanks for stopping by!

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The Patrician Ladies of Buenos Aires Society~ Damas Patricias

It was May 30, 1812, when fourteen women of Buenos Aires’ elite society gathered for a fund raising event. A collection was taken in support of the ragtag criollo army fighting against the Spanish crown. Each women —listed below—financed one pistol each. Obviously, it was not nearly enough to battle the Spaniards; but they inspired other women to do their part by crafting uniforms and eventually, as the story goes, stitching together the first Argentine flag.

  1. Tomasa de la Quintana
  2. María de los Remedios de Escalada
  3. María de las Nieves de Escalada
  4. María Eugenia de Escalada de Demaría
  5. María de la Quintana
  6. María Sánchez de Thompson
  7. Carmen de la Quintanilla de Alvear
  8. Ramona Esquivel y Aldao
  9. Petrona Bernardina Cordero
  10. Rufina de Orma
  11. Isabel Calvimontes de Agrelo
  12. Magdalena de Castro de Herrero
  13. Ángela Castelli de Irgazábal
  14. María de la Encarnación Andonaégui de Valdepares.

My new novel, Celestial Persuasion, unfolds in the Viceroyalty of Rio de la Plata at the cusp of Argentina’s independence. After a series of astonishing events, the protagonist, Abigail Isaacs, finds herself in Buenos Aires. Here she writes to Captain Wentworth…

I received a missive this morning, presented by a liveried servant. It was an invitation from a Mr. and Mrs. Martin Thompson for Tuesday next. You can well imagine my astonishment, Captain Wentworth, as we are so newly arrived that I have not yet regained the use of my land legs. I have not a clue who these good people might be, or how they came to know of my arrival in the city. It was Mrs. Tavares who supplied the necessary information and assured me that I might respond to the invitation without compunction. It was all due to Lord Fife and his connections with society. I imagined the Thompsons were fellow compatriots, perhaps an elderly couple from Sussex or Bath. Imagine my astonishment when Mrs. Tavares explained the truth of the matter. Mrs. Thompson, in fact, is María Josepha Petrona de Todos los Santos Sánchez de Velasco y Trillo. The articulation of the lady’s name alone was quite an undertaking! It practically encompassed my daily Spanish lesson in its entirety. Mrs. Tavares was only too happy to impart her knowledge. To begin with, much to my relief, the lady is simply known as Mariquita Sanchez de Thompson. She is the daughter of a distinguished family of Río de la Plata, with an impressive lineage tracing back to Spain and Portugal. She married Martin Jacobo Thompson and the pair have become the toast of the town.

Mrs. Tavares’s countenance upon seeing the invitation was quite telling. I have never witnessed such excitement. It would seem that an invitation to Mrs. Thompson’s salon is paramount to taking tea with one of the patronesses of Almacks! One must understand, these social gatherings include some of the most renowned citizens of the Viceroyalty. I am to expect an introduction to compatriots and locals, aristocrats and artisans. If I am to trust in my housekeeper’s accounting, Mrs. Thompson is an extraordinary example of female ingenuity. She is known as a great advocate for the new republic. Mrs. Tavares assures me that a more fervent patriot cannot be found among those who support the cause. Not only did the lady donate three ounces of gold to the coffers, she lends her domestic skills for the sewing of uniforms.

In short, Captain Wentworth, I am undone at the thought of attending Mrs. Thompson’s salon. I fear I lack the talent of conversing easily with strangers; although you may believe that an odd statement after I have, after all, rambled on for two pages complete. Your close ties with Jonathan, and your own insistence, have made you less a stranger and more a relative.

I hope you enjoyed the excerpt! You can find Celestial Persuasion on Amazon in both digital and paperback formats. Happy reading!

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Today’s the day!

It seemed like the day would never arrive, but here we are! I am excited and nervous and hopeful and, well…excited! I can’t wait for you to read my latest book and tell me your thoughts.

A Jewish Regency Romance Set Against the Backdrop of Argentina’s Struggle for Independence.

Celestial Persuasion is now available on Amazon in both digital and paperback format. This has been a labor of love and inspiration, but now the real work begins. I’m an independent author, which means I need your help to spread the word. Please tell your friends! Share my posts on your social media. Are you on Goodreads? You can help me by adding the book to your “Want to Read” shelf. Actually, you could take it a step further and create a new shelf and call it “Jewish Regency Romance” or “Jewish Historical Fiction.” Vote for the book in the Listopia section. There are many great categories from which to choose, like this one, or this one or this one ! If you don’t know how to add or vote for the book, ASK ME! I’m only too happy to help. 🙂 Last, but not least, read the book! Leave a rating or a review on Amazon, Goodreads, or on your blog. The momentum created by your input is priceless. It helps me engage with other readers and brings my work out into the forefront—protecting me from those nasty algorithms!

Caroline Herschel was the perfect role model for my protagonist, Abigail Isaacs. Her extraordinary contributions to Astronomy were certainly an inspiration, but Caroline had two other interesting attributes. One was her Jewish heritage, the other was her relationship with her brother, William. The similarity with Abigail and her brother, Jonathan was bashert: It was meant to be.

I am grateful for your support and your interest. Please continue to watch this blog for future posts and interesting tidbits.

With love,

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Blog Tour ~ Day Six: Double Duty!

We’ve come to the end of the tour today; but, never fear!

I’m leaving you with not one, but TWO entries.

Make yourself a nice cup of tea and settle down for a visit with the following bloggers:

Renown author and blogger, Regina Jeffers is my host at:

Every Woman Dreams

Over at Bonnie Reads and Writes, reviewer for Historical Novels Review Magazine, Netgalley, and BookSirens, Bonnie DeMoss will share her thoughts on my book, Celestial Persuasion.

I hope you follow the links and take a peek at both posts.

Thank you for coming along for the ride and thank you to all the wonderful bloggers who made the tour possible. I couldn’t have done it without all of you!

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Blog Tour~Day Five: Faith, Science, Joy, and Jane Austen

Thank you for accompanying me on this week-long extravaganza!

We’re off to visit Brenda…

photo credit: Shiki

This blogger has planned to review Celestial Persuasion for her reading audience. Oh! I hope she likes it!

Follow the link to find out!

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Blog Tour~ Day Four: Diary of an Eccentric

We’re back on track today.

Follow me, won’t you?

Here’s your chance to read an excerpt and enter a giveaway.

Just click on the link !

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Pride and Prejudice and Passover Ponderings

The last few months have been awfully busy. Having recently finished a rough draft of my next novel, I’ve been focused on working with my alpha readers and trying to revise, restructure and basically reinvent my ever-evolving storyline. All this is done in stolen moments in between a 10-hour work day and household responsibilities… laundry, grocery shopping, etc. Life seems but a quick succession of busy nothings when all I want to do is write. And before I knew it, Passover was upon us and I was not prepared.  

Being empty-nesters, the holidays are just not the same any more, especially because my children, and family in general, are spread out across the world. But I still wanted to celebrate the occasion and preserve the traditions, so out came the cookbooks and beloved recipes. I’m not a particularly talented cook, nor am I overly ambitious. And as our diets are restricted throughout the week, I sometimes am at a loss to create things without the prohibited chometz. Or as our family haggadah indicates, we are to avoid anything that “puffs up.” As a side note—or maybe not—I think this haggadah is spot on with regard to a spiritual cleansing of pride and self-importance. Leavened breads, cakes and other yeast or flour products inflate and thicken our bodies. All year long, we are full of chometz, full of ourselves, with no room for God or anything else. For one week, we are told to eat matzah, which is flat and bland, and contemplate our lives and our freedoms. It is the complete opposite of haughtiness and puffiness.

OK, if I haven’t lost you yet, let me get back to my post…

In looking at the family favorites, I noticed how I have tweaked recipes here and there. Ingredients have been swapped out, preparations have been revised. In other words, the recipes evolved, much like my latest novel, depending on whose voice had taken the lead. Depending on which grandmother, aunt, or cousin passed it along, or from which country, culture and timeframe, the difference was notable.

Are you still with me?

I had previously written about Lady Judith Montefiore, and the impact of her cookbook on Anglo-Jewry, but started to think about food in relation to our identity. I am ethnically a Russian Jew who was born in Argentina. But I am also a (proud) naturalized citizen of the United States of America and have been highly influenced by the culture in my adopted land.

Tell me what you eat: I will tell you what you are.”

That statement was published by Jean-Anthelme Brillat-Savarin in 1825; and I think, it still holds true! Celebrity chef Jamie Oliver recently stated that “Dishes evolve, impacted by trade, war, famine and a hundred other forces.” I find it all fascinating and here is just one example of how recipes evolve and cultures intermingle.

Almond sweets were all the rage in Sicily; but by 1552, they had gained popularity and became known to the rest of modern-day Italy, Spain, France, and England.  And across the pond, in a hand-written cookbook published by the first lady, Martha Washington’s Booke of Cookery contained a recipe for almond cookies. So, by the 17th century, we have the word macaron in French or macaroon in English. At this time, the world was also introduced to the Sicilian word maccarruni. In English, of course, we know it as macaroni

To complicate things a bit, a fad developed in the United States in the late 1800s with the importation of coconut from India. Coconut cream pies, ambrosia and custards were very popular— as was the coconut macaroon, which suddenly began appearing in Jewish cookbooks. In 1871, Esther Levy’s Jewish Cookery Book included a recipe for this new dessert; and because they didn’t contain flour, they soon became an American Passover tradition.

Never let it be said that the French were left behind in the world of baking! Soon after coconut macaroons first appeared, bakers Gerbet and Desfontaines created a sandwich cookie by putting almond paste or ganache between two individual macarons. The new cookie was called “le macaron Parisien.” In the United States, the word macaron now referred to the French ganache cookie, leaving macaroon to describe the coconut confection we eat all throughout this holiday week.

Don’t forget the word macaroni. We think of it as elbow pasta. Right? Au contraire! In 18th century England, macaroni had an altogether different meaning. Wealthy gentlemen, who sported outlandish hairstyles and pretentious fashions, were called Macaronis. Why? Because while they did the Grand Tour across the Continent, they acquired a taste for Italian pasta, which was considered an exotic food sensation. For those of us who grew up singing “Yankee Doodle,” this explanation helps to make sense of the song. The chorus makes fun of a disheveled Yankee soldier who attempts to look fashionable. Remember? “…stuck a feather in his cap and called it macaroni.”

At this point, you may be asking yourself: How is she going to tie all these ponderings together? Don’t worry. I’ll tell you.

This year for Passover, I couldn’t find a nice brisket in my grocery store, so I chose to make an American-style pot roast. And because my husband doesn’t care for chicken soup, we ate our kneidalach (matzah balls) in Argentine-style tuco (similar to a Pomodoro sauce). I wonder what Lady Judith might have opined of my international Pesach menu. And what of our beloved, Jane Austen? Did she have an interest in food? In one of her many letters to her sister, Cassandra, she wrote:

“My mother desires me to tell you that I am a very good housekeeper, which I have no reluctance in doing, because I really think it my peculiar excellence, and for this reason – I always take care to provide such things as please my own appetite, which I consider as the chief merit in housekeeping. I have had some ragout veal, and I mean to have some haricot mutton to-morrow.”

Both of these entrées stem from French cuisine. I wonder if Jane ever dined on anything quite so exotic as pasta? I know for a fact she was acquainted with a few Macaronis—at the very least she wrote about them!  I can think of a few Austen dandies, can’t you? But then again, our Miss Jane was never at a loss for words about pride…

Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonymously. A person may be proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves; vanity, to what we would have others think of us.” 

I wonder what she would have to say about Pharaoh? Talk about being “puffed up”!