“The Shawl of Midnight,” by Jacqueline St. Joan (Golden Antelope Press)
When Colorado author Jacqueline St. Joan finished her acclaimed family saga, “My Sisters Made of Light,” she had no plans to write a sequel. But “I wanted to know what happened,” she said. Readers, too, wanted to learn if Ujala, the book’s heroine, who had escaped prison while awaiting trial for rescuing an abused Pakistani woman, would be captured or live happily ever after in India.
So a dozen years after her first novel was published, St. Joan brought out “The Shawl of Midnight.”
The story takes place 20 year after the first novel. Having escaped Pakistan, Ujala is living in India, but not happily. Her once-loving husband is now abusive and controlling, and she fears for her life. She sneaks a letter to her sister, Faisah, a human rights lawyer, begging for help. The two have not been in touch since the escape.
Faisah, with the help of Lia, her lesbian lover, make plans to rescue Ujala. But it is Nafeesa, the teenage daughter of a third sister, the martyred Meena, who comes to the rescue.
Nafeesa’s father has decided she needs to live under purdah and arranges for her to move in with a restrictive a family. With the connivance of her grandfather, Nafeesa winds up with Aunt Faisah instead. The grandfather’s condition: Promise to bring his daughters back to him before he dies. At the risk of her own life, Nafeesa vows to live up to her pledge. “The Shawl of Midnight” is a tale of family strength in an era of domestic terrorism. And while it is a sequel, it is also a stand-alone novel.
St. Joan’s research is prodigious, especially her knowledge of women’s conditions in Pakistan, where a hint of impropriety can bring beatings, torture and even death. She writes knowingly about the strength of women living today under medieval laws and the networks they form to help each other.
St. Joan is an accomplished writer, and “The Shawl of Midnight” (“if you give a woman a shawl, she is forever your sister”) is a graceful account of the sisterhood that allows oppressed women to survive.
“Aurora,” by Dr. Lynne Fenton and Kerrie Droban (Berkley)
Following the 2012 deadly shootings at Aurora’s Century 16 movie theater, many victims and others blamed the killer’s University of Colorado psychiatrist, Dr. Lynne Fenton, for failing to stop him. The murders upended her life. She was forced into hiding to escape death threats as well as hounding by the media. The only psychiatrist ever to be revealed as the doctor of a mass shooter, Fenton faced her own emotional trauma as she wondered if she would ever be able to live a normal life again.
For three long years, Fenton was under a court order not to discuss the case. But now it’s her turn. In “Aurora,” she tells of treating a young man who was so frightening that she called in other psychiatrists for help. Still, since Holmes never displayed a sign that he was a threat to himself or others, she writes, there was no legal way she could have had him committed.
“He filled me with an unshakable dislike that bordered on hatred,” Fenton told colleagues. “There was a negative energy about him that felt evil … . He caused the hair on my neck to prick … it was as if his very presence sucked all the air out of a room.”
Fenton was so disturbed by this patient that she broke patient confidentiality by contacting his mother to find out more about his life. He fit none of the more than 400 categories of mental health disorders.
As Denverites will remember, the shooter dressed up as the Joker to attend a showing of “The Dark Knight.” He propped open an exit door, then dressed himself in protective armor and returned with an arsenal of weapons to murder 12 people, including a 6-year-old girl, and injure another 70.
Fenton can’t explain the “why” of the shooting. She can only reveal the revulsion and fear she felt treating Holmes and how he still affects her life. She no longer wears bullet-proof clothing and has given up her position at CU. She’s retreated to a secluded cabin in the wilderness and, even now, she fears she is not completely safe from the crazies who blame her for not stopping one of America’s most visible serial killers.
“Fire Season,” by Leyna Krow (Viking)
When fire all but consumes Spokane Falls in 1889, banker Barton Heydel comes up with an ingenious way to scam the locals. Instead of handing out cash to citizens borrowing money to rebuild, he issues bank notes. He pockets the cash as well as the payments.
The day of the fire, Heydel had been planning to commit suicide to end his hum-drum life. Heydel fantasizes about a lavish time with his favorite prostitute, Rosalyn, who he rescues from the gutter. A lush, Rosalyn decides to forego her favorite beverage, Mud Drink, as she recuperates at Heydel’s house.
Once sober, Rosalyn sees the cash Heydel’s hiding in the walls of the house and absconds with the money.
Meanwhile, another shyster, Quake Auchenbauchter, arrives in Spokane Falls, claiming to be an arson inspector. Heydel is rumored to have started the fire to make loans. Quake claims that not only is Heydel an arsonist but he is also a counterfeiter. Every single bill in the bank is fake. He swoops them all up to take to the authorities. Of course, the money is real, and Quake pulls off the biggest swindle of all.
The three thieves ultimately encounter each other later on in this enjoyable novel that keeps you guessing which one will ultimately end up with the money.
