Judith Herman Books Novels & Stories

One of the other kids, sweet-tongued and full of praise, chirped, "Mia, Mr. Jonas is awesome. I'm so jealous!" Mia puffed up proudly. "Of course he is! Uncle Colin's not just a great cook—he works in medicine and helps save people's lives. He's a real hero!" Seeing the pride and joy on Mia's face warmed my heart in a way I had never felt with Evie. Her teacher once told me she hadn't eaten enough at school. I panicked and rushed to make a carefully packed lunch with fresh juice, then delivered it myself.

Theresa was old enough to have experience, but looked young enough to please Salem’s eyes—two key requirements for a housekeeper in his home. “Where is Salem now?” I asked. A good feeding would soothe my nerves. “He’s not at home, my lady. I couldn’t tell you.” Grumbling, I headed to Salem’s library. Perhaps he had a book I could entertain myself with. Once there, I found a book lying open on a desk. It was titled Mythic Bloodlines: Lost & Fabled Lilitu. Curious, I studied an illustration on the open page. It depicted a trio of strange-looking women, just like the ones Salem had been painting all this time. The accompanying text stated:

Still, by the time I stood up an hour later, I was checking out six books. Judith stamped them with a practised thud and slid them across the desk. Her gaze skimmed the titles, then rose to my face. “Research project?” she asked lightly. “Something like that,” I said. She smiled a little. “Moonbrook inspires curiosity.” “That’s one word for it.” Judith’s expression turned unreadable in that small town way that made me feel like she knew more than she intended to say. “Some stories survive because people keep feeding them,” she said. “Others survive because they started from something real.”