The Magdalene Scrolls

Barbara Wood

Description

- Review copies available through Edelweiss and to select review outlets
- Featured in Goodreads giveaway and in Turner Publishing's Free Book Friday giveaway
- Digital and email marketing campaign, including a social media campaign, an email marketing campaign, and blog features
- Book club and blogger outreach
- Marketing through author's website, http://www.barbarawood.com/
- Bestselling author: Barbara Wood is a New York Times bestselling author with a prolific backlist and frontlist that is critically-acclaimed and followed by a large readership.
- Author's first novel: The Magdalene Scrolls is New York Times bestselling author Barbara Wood's first novel and was previously out of print. Barbara Wood's large fanbase should be excited to see her first book back in print for the first time in many years.

Sujets

• Policier & Thriller
• Policier
• Thrillers
• Historical
• American literature
• Dead Sea Scrolls
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Turner Publishing Company
• Date de parution: 06 décembre 2016
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781681629421
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

THE MAGDALENE SCROLLS
OTHER BOOKS by BARBARA WOOD
Rainbows on the Moon
The Serpent and the Staff
The Divining
Virgins of Paradise
The Dreaming
Green City in the Sun
This Golden Land
Soul Flame
Vital Signs
Domina
The Watch Gods
Childsong
Night Trains
Yesterday s Child
Curse This House
Hounds and Jackals
BOOKS by KATHRYN HARVEY
Butterfly
Stars
Private Entrance
The MAGDALENE SCROLLS
A NOVEL
Barbara Wood
TURNER
Turner Publishing Company
Nashville, Tennessee
New York, New York
www.turnerpublishing.com
The Magdalene Scrolls
Copyright 1978, 2016 Barbara Wood. All rights reserved.
This book or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are either products of the author s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Cover design: Maddie Cothren
Book design: Glen M. Edelstein
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Wood, Barbara, 1947- author.
Title: The Magdalene scrolls / Barbara Wood.
Description: Nashville, Tennessee : Turner Publishing Company, [2016]
Identifiers: LCCN 2016040058| ISBN 9781681629407 (pbk. : alk. paper) | ISBN 9781681629421 (e-book)
Subjects: LCSH: Scrolls--Fiction. | GSAFD: Mystery fiction.
Classification: LCC PS3573.O5877 M34 2016 | DDC 813/.54--dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016040058
9781681629407
Printed in the United States of America
16 17 18 19 20 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
For my husband Walt, with all my love .
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
THE MAGDALENE SCROLLS
CHAPTER ONE
Beware to the heathen and to the evil-intending who would disturb the contents of these jars, for the Curse of Moses shall be upon him, and he shall be cursed in the city and in the field, and cursed will be the fruit of his body and of his land; and the Lord will smite him with a severe burning, inflict him with madness and blindness, and pursue him with mildew for ever and ever .
WHAT IS THIS? BENJAMIN Messer wondered. A curse? He stopped reading the papyrus, baffled. Scanning the ancient handwriting, he absently scratched his head. Is it possible? he thought again in bewilderment. A curse? Those words, having caught Ben totally by surprise, made him pause to wonder if he was reading them wrong. But no The writing was clear enough. No room for doubt.
The Curse of Moses shall be upon him
Ben sat back in his chair, decidedly perplexed by what he had just read. Staring down at the two-thousand-year-old writing that shone harshly beneath the glare of his high-intensity lamp, the young paleographer considered again the circumstances that had brought him to this moment: the unexpected late-night knock upon his door: the postman in the dripping-wet raincoat; the damp envelope bearing the stamps of Israel; signing for the special-delivery letter; bringing the envelope back to his den; opening it with anticipation and excitement; and finally reading the first line.
It had been such a surprise-those first few words-that Ben now sat staring at the papyrus fragment as though seeing it for the first time.
What could it mean, this curse? What had John Weatherby sent him? The accompanying letter had explained the circumstances surrounding the discovery of some ancient scrolls on the shore of the Sea of Galilee. Possibly even bigger than the Dead Sea Scrolls, the old archaeologist Weatherby had said.
Ben Messer now frowned down at the Aramaic script before him. But no Not the Dead Sea Scrolls. Not biblical texts or religious writings. But a curse. The Curse of Moses.
It had surprised him, this opening statement. It had not been what he had been expecting. Somewhat taken aback, Ben now leaned forward again and continued to read further:
I am a Jew. And before I pass from this life into the Next, I must unburden my troubled soul before God and all men. What I have done, I have done of my own will; I do not claim to have been the victim of Fate or circumstance. Freely do I confess that I, David ben Jonah, am solely answerable for what I did, and that my progeny are innocent of my crimes. It is not for my seed to bear the stigma of their father s misdoings. Neither are they to judge me. For that is up to God alone .
I have arrived at this wretched state by my own hand. I must speak now of the things I have wrought. And then, by the mercy of the Lord God, I will find peace at last in oblivion .
Benjamin straightened up and rubbed his eyes. Well, this was getting even more interesting. In those last few lines he had come across two more surprises, ones that now made him go back over the scroll to be certain of his translation. One surprise had been the unhoped-for ease in reading the papyrus. Normally it would be a challenge. Most ancient writings abbreviated words and left out vowels, because they were really only prompts for someone who had already memorized the content, thus making translation difficult for the modern paleographer. But not this one. And the second had been the realization that the scroll was not the religious text Ben had been prepared for.
But then, what is it? thought Ben as he wiped his glasses, replaced them on his nose and leaned forward again. What on earth has John Weatherby found!
I have but one other reason for writing this down before I die, and may the Lord God have mercy on me, but it is a greater need than what I stated above. It is, namely, that I write so that my son may understand. He must be made aware of the facts of the events which took place and also my reasoning behind them. He will have heard stories of what happened that day. I want him to know the truth .
I ll be damned! whispered Ben. John Weatherby, I don t think you know what you ve unearthed! My God, this is more than just an archaeological discovery. More than just some nicely preserved scrolls for the museum. It looks like you ve uncovered someone s last confession. And one that carries a curse with it as well!
Ben shook his head. This is incredible
Therefore, these words are for your eyes, my son, wherever you are. My friends have known me to be a meticulous man, and I shall be true to my nature in this, my final act. These papers will be preserved for you, my son, as your inheritance, for I have little else to give you. Once, I could have bequeathed you a great fortune, but that is all gone now, and in this darkest hour I can leave you only my conscience .
While I know it will not be long before we are united again upon Zion in the New Israel, I shall nonetheless strive to hide these scrolls as if they were going to rest for eternity. You will find them soon, I am certain, and yet it would be the poorest tragedy were they to perish before your eyes befell them. For this reason am I calling upon the Protection of Moses to keep them safe .
The Protection of Moses? echoed Ben s mind. He glanced up again at the top of the papyrus, reread the first few lines, and vaguely recognized the curse that was found in the Old Testament. John Weatherby, in his letter accompanying the photographs of the scrolls he had unearthed, had said that it appeared he and his team had come across an archaeological discovery of tremendous importance. But it seemed, Ben realized now, that old Dr. Weatherby had not been aware of just exactly what he had found.
Ben Messer, whose job it was to translate the scrolls, had expected religious texts-excerpts from the Bible. Like the Dead Sea Scrolls. But this? Some sort of a diary? And a curse?
He was stunned. Just what the hell was this?
I pray now, my son, to the God of Abraham that He lead you to the hiding place of this pauper s treasure. I pray with all my heart and strength and with greater desperation than praying for His mercy upon my soul that one day soon, my dearest son, you will read these words .
Do not judge me, for that alone is God s privilege. Rather think of me in your trying hours and remember that I loved you above all else. And when our Master appears at the gates of Jerusalem, search the faces of those clustered in his wake, and, with God s benevolence, you will see the face of your father among them .
Benjamin fell back in his chair with a look of amazement on his face. This was absolutely incredible! My God, Weatherby, you were only half right. Valuable scrolls, yes. An archaeological discovery that will rock the civilized world, yes. But you also have something else here.
Ben felt a flutter of excitement. Something more
Needing to stretch his tall, lean body back into circulation, the thirty-six-year-old paleographer stood, strode to the windows and pressed his forehead to the glass. Aside from his own immediate reflection-the horn-rimmed glasses, blond hair and smooth face-and aside from the dim image of the den behind him, he saw the bright lights of West Los Angeles twinkle back at him.
It was nighttime outside. The rain had stopped, leaving a gentle mist hanging in the air. It was a cold November evening in Los Angeles, but Ben had been unaware of it. As always when translating an ancient text, Dr. Benjamin Messer had lost himself for a while in the alphabet and syntax of authors long dead. Authors unknown and nameless.
Except for this one.
He turned slowly and stared for a while at his desk. A halo glow from the reading lamp illuminated a small area, leaving the rest of the room in darkness.
Except for this one, his mind echoed.
How astonishing, he thought, to have found some scrolls that are written by an ordinary man, instead of