Kiss of the Virgin Queen
Table of Contents
Title Page
Praise for Sharon Buchbinder
Kiss of the Virgin Queen
Copyright
Dedications
Author’s Note
Prologue
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
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Epilogue
A word about the author…
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Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
Arta Shahani stood at the curb
of the one-runway Summertown Airport, took a deep breath of clean air, and admired the pristine mountains. An eagle floated overhead, enjoying the updraft. He wished he could ride the wind with the bird, and watch the green vistas and mountains roll under him again. One of the hazards of living in the Washington D.C. area was he sometimes forgot the more remote, less populated portions of the country. No matter, once he was with Eliana, it didn’t matter where he was. “With thee, my love, hell itself were heaven…”
He tapped his foot and jingled the change in his pocket and then stopped, suddenly self-aware of his mannerisms. Arta felt a flush of embarrassment dashed with a tinge of boyish anticipation. Eliana. All he had to do was think her name and crazy things came over him. His pulse raced, muscles tensed, blood rushed to all the wrong parts of his body. He knew the term for it, flight, fight, or f—
The sharp blast of a car horn interrupted his musings.
The object of his fascination sat in a black government sedan in front of him.
Eliana.
For a frozen moment, he stopped breathing. His stomach plummeted, and his pulse kicked into erratic beats. He couldn’t stop staring at her. Her green eyes sparkled with humor, and a mischievous grin spread from one flushed cheek to the other. Just as lovely as the first time he met her and took her hand. A jolt of joy headed for his pants. That would never do. He placed his briefcase over his groin and waved.
Praise for Sharon Buchbinder
“Ms. Buchbinder weaves ancient secrets and modern mysteries into a beautifully written story that will keep you turning the pages.”
~USA Today Bestselling Author, Roz Lee
~*~
“Sharon Buchbinder seamlessly blends ancient lore, intriguing, sexy characters, and a unique approach to the werewolf genre in a fast paced suspenseful plot that will leave you howling for more.”
~Sharon Saracino, Author,
Undiscovered Angel, The Earthbound Series
~*~
“Sharon Buchbinder’s writing grabs hold from the very first page and stays with you long after the last page has been read. Her skill in combining historical fact with suspenseful fiction creates an exciting and dramatic backdrop for her stories. Ms. Buchbinder’s books are now on my must-buy list.”
~Jennifer Lynne, bestselling author of
Gods of Love and Not Vanilla series
Kiss of the
Virgin Queen
by
Sharon Buchbinder
Kiss of the Jinni Hunter Series
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Kiss of the Virgin Queen
COPYRIGHT © 2015 by Sharon Buchbinder
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com
Cover Art by Rae Monet, Inc. Design
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Black Rose Edition, 2015
Print ISBN 978-1-5092-0392-8
Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-0393-2
Kiss of the Jinni Hunter Series
Published in the United States of America
Dedications
This book is dedicated with love to my husband, Dale, our son, Joshua, our daughter-in-law, Elyse,
and our grandson, Dexter.
They remind me every day
that the gift of a loving family is priceless.
~*~
It is also dedicated to my tireless and supportive editor,
Amanda Barnett,
who takes my lumps of coal and turns them into
diamonds.
~*~
And to Sharon Saracino, my patient critique partner,
who props me up and cheers me on
when words fail me.
Author’s Note
Anyone who has read my previous novels knows that before I begin to write, I conduct extensive research and steep myself in the materials. This approach enables me to speak through the characters and narrative with rich and correct content. I also rely on subject matter experts and beta readers from diverse disciplines and cultural backgrounds who provide corrections and feedback to me before I submit a story for consideration for publication. I would be remiss if I did not thank my readers here, starting with my ever patient husband, Dale Buchbinder, who read every single draft of the story. My deep gratitude goes to the following people for their expertise and feedback: Deborah Barrett, Marta Bliese, John Darrin, Charlayne Elizabeth Denney, Hal Dorin, Karysa Faire, Tahereh Fazel, Joya Fields, Karen and Ken Giek, Nancy Greenwald, Sabrina Lemieux, Drs. Anisa and Ziad Mirza, Zee Monodee, Dr. Patricia Romero, Tina Rucci, Sharon Saracino, Tahmineh Shadkhoo, Dr. Jay Tobin, Robin Vandenbroeck, Beth White Werrell, Stephanie Williams, and Susan Willis. Big hugs to my brilliant editor, Amanda Barnett, who challenges me to polish my work until it shines.
This sequel to The Kiss of the Silver Wolf follows up on the origin of jinnis, or genies, who, like humans, can choose to be good or evil. I interwove jinni lore with the mesmerizing story of the Queen of Sheba and King Solomon, two heroic Biblical figures who, many say, had supernatural powers. I wondered how this three-thousand-year-old state affair between two super powers became embedded in our collective consciousness. I also wondered about the impact of this epic romance on our lives today, who the descendants of this royal romance might be, where they lived, and what they might be doing now. The importance of centuries-old hurts to contemporary events of today is evident in the daily news. Likewise, the Biblical storyline is important to the resolution of the contemporary portion of this book.
In my research, I discovered that despite the differences between and among cultures, four major religions, Judaism, Christianity, Ethiopian Coptic Christianity, and Islam, tell, retell, and revere the story of the Queen of Sheba and King Solomon. The Hebrew Bible, the Old Testament in the Christian Bible, contains the story in very short form, but repeats it in two places, in 1 Kings and in Chronicles, as if one telling was not enough. The repetition of the same tale in tw
o places was a way to ensure the story would be found, told and retold, even if the books of the Bible were somehow separated from one another.
As the only foreign queen mentioned in the Bible who appears to be considered an equal to King Solomon, this mystery woman has been claimed by no less than three countries: Arabia and Yemen, where she is call Bilqis, Balqis, or Balkis, and Ethiopia, where she is known as Makeda. Her role in these stories has been interpreted by many scholars in multiple ways. The Queen of Sheba has been seen as a symbol of trade, as an example of nations converted to monotheism in a polytheist world, as a warning against foreign women and their wiles, and, finally, as a romance between a powerful king and an equally powerful queen.
Scholars who interpret the Queen of Sheba as a symbol of trade point to the significant trade routes that ran through regions under the control of Israel. All trade routes had to be protected from bandits or the products would never reach the marketplace. Frankincense was so valuable that men who worked in the factories were required to strip and be searched before they left for the day to ensure they took none of the product home. This lightweight incense was prized all over the world and used in religious rituals throughout the Middle Eastern region, especially at funerals. The wealthier the individual, the more frankincense was used. Israel’s territory lay between the region of production of frankincense and many destination ports. Without the protection of the King of Israel, other countries would not be able to thrive and survive. Was the Queen of Sheba merely a symbol of trade and the rest of the world showing its submission to the great and wise King Solomon?
Scholars who interpreted this story as a way of showing King Solomon’s favor in the eyes of his Lord, and to underscore the significance of the need for monotheism in a world of multiple gods, point to archaeological evidence of multiple gods and goddesses still present in the time of King David and King Solomon. Archaeologists have found evidence that Asherah, the female goddess, was worshipped in the first and second temples of Jerusalem. Prophets and priests opposed to polytheism may have created the story of the Queen of Sheba’s visit and conversion to monotheism as an example of what other nations should do. Was the Queen of Sheba merely a prop to provide a good role model for other nations?
Some stories about the Queen of Sheba have indicated her origins were exotic and supernatural, with a mother who was a jinniyah, or genie. Other, darker stories demonize the Queen of Sheba and make her synonymous with Lilith, Adam’s first wife, who left him to become a soul-sucking demon and baby killer. In early times, the war over which god would prevail was a very real one, and priests and priestesses of gods opposing one God were not well tolerated, even killed, on the road to monotheism. Foreign women became synonymous with foreign gods and evil ways. Solomon’s tolerance of his multiple wives’ religions was seen as a character flaw. Were these stories about the Queen of Sheba created to serve as a horrid example of foreign customs?
Finally, the romance between two great and powerful heads of state is irresistible. Many scholars offer strong support of a real love story. One of the strongest pieces of evidence is the use of the Hebrew word in the phrase “she came to him.” There are many different words the scribe could have used, however, the one selected has a sexual meaning, used in the Hebrew Bible only in sexual situations. The romantic description of the meeting and their interactions, including such phrases as “she communed with him of all that was in her heart,” “there was no more spirit in her,” and “king Solomon gave unto the queen of Sheba all her desire, whatsoever she asked, beside that which Solomon gave her of his royal bounty,” makes the reader wonder what he gave her, since she was wealthy, too. In fact, the largesse of her gifts of state is over the top, even for a visiting dignitary. Was it, in fact, a wedding dowry? If so, why did she leave and return to her own country with her servants? What happened? Was this a love lost?
According to the Kebra Negast, the constitution and Holy Book of Ethiopia, Makeda, the Queen of Sheba from that nation, returned to her country with her servants and gifts only King Solomon could give to her: a signet ring, a child, and a Solomonic dynasty that endured to the last Ethiopian emperor, Haile Selassie I. For the purposes of this book, it is this story that I followed and brought to the twenty-first century via the African Diaspora.
The authenticity of the Queen of Sheba/King Solomon legend has been a subject of inquiry for many archaeological and Biblical scholars. Outside of materials written well after the tenth century before the common era (BCE), e.g., Kings 1-13 of the Hebrew Bible/Old Testament, Targum Sheni (“Second Targum”, the second Book of Esther), the Ethiopian Kebra Negast or Glory of Kings, and the Holy Qu’aran, no written archeological evidence of King Solomon’s existence has been found in Israel to date. Furthermore, no external chronologists, such as the Babylonians and Assyrians, recorded any stories about King Solomon, although they had written records about kings of Israel who followed him. Any timelines that exist have been scholars’ estimates based on interpolation of times and names used in the Biblical era and extant sources, such as Babylonian and Assyrian records.
The past predicts our future and our family history and culture are intrinsic parts of our identity. Many families have oral histories and legends of connections to royalty. In this story, I follow one family’s oral history through biblical and contemporary times. Join me on this epic paranormal journey into the past and present. Whatever your background or belief system, I hope you enjoy the story. If you are interested in the articles, books, movies, and other sources I used to research this novel, I would be happy to send you my list of references. Just email me at:
sharonbellbuchbinder@gmail.com
Happy reading!
Sharon Buchbinder
Prologue
No matter how far we are in the future,
everything connects us to our past.
Aksum, Ethiopia, 965 B.C.E.
Makeda clambered up the steep outcropping of rocks in pursuit of a white snake. She saw the creature sunning itself on a large boulder, its normally sleek shape enlarged in the center with a bulge the size of a rat, and she wanted him. After a big meal, the slithering would stop and he’d be easy to catch. As soon as she caught the snake, she’d shove him in Tamrin’s face.
Stupid boy. How dare he say girls didn’t know how to catch snakes in a tone used for speaking to babies? Even though he was twelve, two years older than she was, didn’t she throw a spear farther, ride her horse harder, and catch more pheasants than he did? Fish practically threw themselves on her carved bone hooks.
In fact, Makeda ran faster, climbed higher, and hunted better than all the other children and many of the adults in Aksum. Hadn’t she brought down a lioness when the predator attacked a woman in the market place? Everyone else had screamed and fled—the cowards. She, a mere girl, stood her ground and speared the big cat, saving the mother and her unborn child. Her actions proved to the men and boys she was a warrior in her own right, not just the king’s daughter.
The only animals she didn’t hunt were the red, long-legged wolves. She was five the first time she spotted the creatures. While riding out to hunt antelope with her father, a she-wolf surrounded by a litter of pups locked eyes with Makeda.
Frozen in time, it seemed as if the female whispered to her, “Go away. Leave me to raise my babies. Spare me and when your time comes, we will do the same for you and yours.” At last, she had pulled away from the creature’s penetrating gaze and caught her father watching her, his dark brown forehead creased in a worried expression.
“Why do you look at me in that way, Baba? Is something wrong?”
He reached over and felt Makeda’s brow. “Are you not well, my daughter?”
She shook her head. “The wolf snared me with her eyes and spoke to me. Asked for mercy.”
Her father’s eyes grew as large as eggs, and he held up the palm of his right hand. “Stop. Say nothing more of this.”
“Baba, what’s wrong?” She had never seen her father
afraid of anyone or anything. The supreme ruler feared nothing. Until that day.
His lips had thinned to a knife’s edge. “Tell no one. Do you hear me?”
Baba had never spoken to her in such a harsh tone before. Tears rose in her eyes. She dared not speak for fear of choking on her words. Makeda nodded. They never mentioned the incident again. Now, despite the heat baking the stones beneath her feet, she shuddered at the memory. Stop thinking about the wolves. Keep going. A few more boulders to climb and she’d have the snake in her hand.
A sharp rock pricked her palm and a trickle of blood ran down her arm. Although at times, scraped, bruised, and covered in tiny cuts, her hands seldom scarred. Her father told Makeda her mother had healed the same way and the extra toe on each foot gave her special powers. “My heart, you are my little goat.”
Tamrin shouted at her from below. The wind snatched his words and carried them into the clouds. She glanced over her shoulder, and the sight took her breath away. A shrub-strewn carpet of green grass broken up with craggy hills, a wandering river, and scrubby bushes stretched beneath her. This is why the Sun God rose each morning. To admire his handiwork.
“Nay! Come!” Tamrin’s shout carried to her over a gust of wind. “Soon it will be sundown.” She knew the rest. He ended everything with, “Your father will kill me and my family if I don’t bring you back safely.”
Where was all his boasting and blustering when it came to her father? Vanished like a rat in a hole. She dismissed his warning with a shake of her head, pulled herself over a ledge and headed upward, closer to the sun and the snake. Lazy beast. Sitting right in front of a large cleft, the snake hissed, as if to say, “Come get me.”
Water gourd bouncing on her thigh, Makeda now stood on the boulder. Two more steps and she’d pounce. One, two—just as she reached for him, he turned his head, flicked his tongue, and slipped into the cave. She followed him into the darkness, deep into the grotto, her trusty feet feeling the way. Her eyes adjusted to the gloom. Aha! Right there on a big boulder. One more step and—