The Law of Moses is on sale for 99 cents for a limited time
If I tell you right up front, right in the beginning that I
lost him, it will be easier for you to bear. You will know it’s coming, and it
will hurt. But you’ll be able to prepare.
Someone found him in a laundry basket at the Quick Wash,
wrapped in a towel, a few hours old and close to death. They called him Baby
Moses when they shared his story on the ten o’clock news – the little baby left
in a basket at a dingy Laundromat, born to a crack addict and expected to have
all sorts of problems. I imagined the crack baby, Moses, having a giant crack
that ran down his body, like he’d been broken at birth. I knew that wasn’t what
the term meant, but the image stuck in my mind. Maybe the fact that he was
broken drew me to him from the start.
It all happened before I was born, and by the time I met
Moses and my mom told me all about him, the story was old news and nobody
wanted anything to do with him. People love babies, even sick babies. Even
crack babies. But babies grow up to be kids, and kids grow up to be teenagers.
Nobody wants a messed up teenager.
And Moses was messed up. Moses was a law unto himself. But
he was also strange and exotic and beautiful. To be with him would change my
life in ways I could never have imagined. Maybe I should have stayed away.
Maybe I should have listened. My mother warned me. Even Moses warned me. But I
didn’t stay away.
And so begins a story of pain and promise, of heartache and
healing, of life and death. A story of before and after, of new beginnings and
never-endings. But most of all . . . a love story.
**********************************************************
The Song of David
** This book is a STANDALONE novel featuring characters that
were introduced in The Law of Moses. It is not a sequel, but it is a spin-off.
**
I won my first fight when I was eleven years old, and I’ve
been throwing punches ever since. Fighting is the purest, truest, most
elemental thing there is. Some people describe heaven as a sea of unending
white. Where choirs sing and loved ones await. But for me, heaven was something
else. It sounded like the bell at the beginning of a round, it tasted like
adrenaline, it burned like sweat in my eyes and fire in my belly. It looked
like the blur of screaming crowds and an opponent who wanted my blood.
For me, heaven was the octagon.
Until I met Millie, and heaven became something different. I
became something different. I knew I loved her when I watched her stand
perfectly still in the middle of a crowded room, people swarming, buzzing,
slipping around her, her straight dancer’s posture unyielding, her chin high,
her hands loose at her sides. No one seemed to see her at all, except for the
few who squeezed past her, tossing exasperated looks at her unsmiling face.
When they realized she wasn’t normal, they hurried away. Why was it that no one
saw her, yet she was the first thing I saw?
If heaven was the octagon, then she was my angel at the
center of it all, the girl with the power to take me down and lift me up again.
The girl I wanted to fight for, the girl I wanted to claim. The girl who taught
me that sometimes the biggest heroes go unsung and the most important battles
are the ones we don’t think we can win.
No comments:
Post a Comment