AND the WINNER is ....

Angela Johnson! You have won a KINDLE edition of Stephanie Dray's LILY OF THE NILE!!!!!!

Thank you so much for stopping by the WRITE LIFE!!!

Bonus- Read a DELETED scene from LILY OF THE NILE...*Contest*

Queen Cleopatra wore her black priestess gown–the one with the silver stars and the knot of Isis between her breasts. If she’d known her barge was going to arrive at the sacred isle while the blistering sun was this high, she would have worn the white linen that the Romans found so scandalous.


This time of year, ocean breezes cooled Alexandria, but here in Aswan was the driest and most withering heat anywhere in Egypt. Perspiration pooled between the queen’s shoulder blades and the servants fanned her with ostrich feathers, swaying in time with the rowers below deck, but their efforts were in vain. Even the queen’s small daughter complained of thirst.


“So drink!” Cleopatra commanded. “Iras set a cup of water right beside you.”


The girl’s fair hair coiled damply on her brow and her rose-pink lips formed a pout. “I don’t want water. Fat Mardion promised that if I came with you to Philae there’d be pomegranate juice. It’s what he drinks in the heat.”


“Which is why he’s Fat Mardion,” Cleopatra said archly, but her daughter wasn’t amused. In truth, Cleopatra wished she’d taken her trusted eunuch along because he was indulgent with the children whereas the queen herself wasn’t very patient.


It wasn’t that Selene was an ill-mannered child; it was just that the girl didn’t like to be apart from her twin brother and Cleopatra supposed she should have taken some solace in her children’s love for one another. After all, she had been raised in a nest of fratricidal Ptolemy eaglets, each willing to tear the other to shreds and her earliest terrors were born of the days when her siblings fought for the throne of Egypt.


Luckily, none of her own four children showed signs of murderous ambition. No, her children loved each other as brothers and sisters should—except for the twins, who held some bond between them that went beyond love. When separated, Selene and Helios were like half a person each, one brooding, the other complaining until they were reunited once again. Their bond touched the queen’s heart, but it also worried her, for she’d seen into the Nile of Eternity…


The oarsmen pulled up their paddles as the barge approached the landing. “Do we swim now?” Selene asked and without waiting for an answer, the girl pulled the ribbons from her hair and threw them on the deck with a flourish. Not a single servant even looked askance, delighted as they all were with the antics of the queen’s little girl.


On the riverbank, the priests had gathered. Musicians played their double-reeded clarinets, serving girls threw pink flower petals into the water, and worshippers knelt in homage to Queen Cleopatra, their Pharaoh and the New Isis. Soon, she’d greet them and give the blessings they craved from her. Then, she’d visit the Nilometer, which would tell her whether her people would feast this year, or starve. But first, before any of this, before everything, she must be a bride of Egypt. She must be Isis for Osirus. She must be divine wife to divine husband.


Iras and Charmion were already disrobing her for the ritualized lovemaking when Selene whined, “Why couldn’t Helios come with us? He’d protect us from the crocodiles.”


“Crocodiles will never harm you,” the queen said. “You’re a child of Isis and sacred to all in Egypt, even the beasts. Besides, your brothers aren’t with us because there are some things only queens can do.”


This caught her daughter’s attention. “There are things kings can’t do? Not even Kings of Egypt, like Caesarion?”


“Can a man suckle an infant?” Cleopatra asked as her hair was unbound. “Neither can a king nourish his kingdom. He can protect and defend it. He can rule his people justly. But he cannot feed his people except through Isis. This is why no man comes to be Pharaoh without wedding Pharaoh’s daughter, and why your brother Caesarion will one day need you to be a very good wife and queen.”


Selene’s emerald gaze was very shrewd and the queen decided that she’d been right to take the girl on this journey, even at so young an age. “Every year, the river rises to wash away all the dead vegetation from the dry cracked land. It deposits black fertile soil in its place. Then the farmers grow their wheat, and the laborers cut the wheat with their scythes and the bakers make it into bread.”


“I know that.” Selene gave a delicate, and very regal, roll of her eyes.


“Then tell me why the Nile rises?” Cleopatra asked, stepping out of her black robes without inhibition. Her naked body wasn’t as perfect as it once was, but since having children of her own, she was more womanly now and perhaps more beautiful to the river god that awaited her.


“Is it part of the mysteries?” Selene asked.


“One of many. It is love,” the queen explained. “No man can rise to create life without a lover, and neither can the river.” She saw that Selene didn’t understand, so she continued, “Before the dark god Set cut Osirus into pieces, he first drowned the good god of grain in the Nile. Here at Philae, on these very river banks is where Isis first wept for her murdered husband. This is where she brought him back to life with her magic. The spirit of Osiris lives here now, in the depths of the river. Here, he waits for his love, for Isis, and each year he swells to make love to her.”


“And she comes to him as Egypt’s queen…”


“Just so,” Cleopatra said, removing her amethyst ring–a gift from Antony, a wedding ring, though Octavian’s propagandists claimed otherwise. “And so, no matter which man you take into your heart, when it comes to the land you rule, you must always love it like a faithful wife. Today we will meet the Nile and make tribute to it, like a bride to a bridegroom.”


“I’m too little to be a bride,” Selene pointed out.


Cleopatra sighed at her daughter’s innocence. “Not for long, My Sweet. One day, you’ll be a beautiful maiden, then a loving mother, and then, hopefully, a wise old crone. But of these three, it’s your life as a mother that will serve Egypt best.”


“And please the king,” Selene said.


“No.” Cleopatra stiffened. “Have a child for Isis, for Egypt and for yourself before you do it to please any man. Your children will be rulers, and their divine ichor come to them through their mother’s milk–no matter who their father might be.”


“But what of the divine Julius?”


What of him, indeed? Oh, the heartbreak! But, Cleopatra stilled her heart. There was still Caesarion, there was still Egypt, and there were her little twins, from whom the whole world expected great things.


“I loved Gaius,” Cleopatra said with as matter-of-fact a tone as she could muster when speaking of Caesar. “But I loved him too much. I stayed too long as a mortal with Caesar in Rome, and without me, the Nile fell below the cubits of death and my people suffered. It was a mistake I’ll never make again.”


With that, the queen allowed her servants to lower her down the ladder until she was standing in the shallows. The mud of the Nile was like silken bed sheets beneath her feet. The river was as warm as a lotus scented bath, and as the frogs sang their chorus, heka tingled at Cleopatra’s fingertips. Feeling the magic flowing through her, the queen held her arms out to her daughter.


“Come, Selene. Meet Osirus.”


Selene lingered at the side of the barge, unwilling to come down the ladder even when the servants encouraged her into the river. It was only when Cleopatra commanded it that the girl leapt with a splash. Her little feet didn’t reach the bottom, and she flailed in the water until the queen caught her under the arms. “Shhh, Selene. You carry Isis with you wherever you go, but you’ve been promised to Egypt. The Nile waits here, pining for your love. For your surrender and rapturous embrace.”


With that, the queen loosened her hold, knowing the little girl would have to swim on her own. Already, the Nile’s green waves lapped at Cleopatra’s consciousness, drawing her into the marshy reeds of a waking dream where life teemed.


“She is the resurrection.,” Cleopatra prayed. “She brings life from death. She gives to her kingdom an heir, she gives to her people their daily sustenance, and she gives Isis an embodiment on earth for Osiris to love.”


Cleopatra saw the frog and the minnows, the life-giving silt settling onto the fields beyond, and everywhere she turned in the water, the birds flocked and water lilies blossomed. With her fingers, she traced lazy circles into the river bringing fish leaping to the surface. She passed dried brown foliage as she made her way to shore, and it sprouted green with life again. She gazed upon the washed up carcass of a snake and it arose, coiled and shimmering. It was an Egyptian cobra and its hood swelled for her like the phallus of an eager lover.

Visit Stephanie on the web- www.stephaniedray.com/


PURCHASE LILY OF THE NILE

*Stephanie will be giving away a KINDLE version of Lily of the Nile to one lucky commenter! Winner will be picked at RANDOM once the spotlight is over! Be sure to leave your E-mail address with your comment so we may contact you should you win!* 

Excerpt from LILY of the Nile by Stephanie Dray ....

Something coiled dangerously within the basket I carried, but I’d been told not to open the lid nor to ask what lurked beneath its woven reeds. The basket smelled of comforting cedar and lush figs, but it was embroidered with emblems of Anubis—the jackal-headed Guide of the Dead.

Anubis was a kind god, so I should have taken solace, but seeing him only magnified my sense of dread. Since we’d lost the war, Alexandria was quiet and filled with ill omens.


I had once been the safest child in Egypt, but the world held terrors everywhere for me now, and the twisting motion in the basket convinced me that I held treachery in my arms. I came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the avenue, beneath a marble colonnade that cast dusk shadows over the silent street. “I don’t want to carry the basket anymore,” I said.

“Sometimes we have to do what we don’t want to, Princess Selene,” our royal tutor said, daring to nudge me forward with his divination staff. That he’d poked me offended my royal dignity, but I knew better than to chastise Euphronius, for the old wizard was unusually anxious that day. The metallic scent of dark magic clung to his white linen kilt and wafted behind him as he hurried us along. He kept glancing back at the Roman guards who accompanied us at a barely respectful distance, and even though the sun was low and the evening cool, perspiration glistened on his bald head.

Euphronius lifted my littlest brother, Philadelphus, into his arms and urged us to walk faster. “Let’s hurry before Octavian changes his mind about letting you see your mother.”

I tried to keep pace, but the basket was unbearably heavy and my silvered sandal caught on the hem of my pearl-beaded gown. I heard the fabric tear but managed to regain my footing, albeit with a complaint. “I could walk faster if a servant carried the basket. Why should I have to?”

After all, I wasn’t just a princess of Egypt. Wasn’t I also queen of all Cyrenaica and Libya? I wore a royal diadem embroidered with pearls upon my brow. Why should I carry anything for myself much less something that frightened me?


“I’ll carry it for you,” my twin brother offered.


But Euphronius waved Helios away. “Princess Selene, your mother wanted you to bring the basket as an offering to your father. Will you dishonor Lord Antony by failing to provide for what remains of his soul in this world?”

Our wizard needn’t have used the blunt cudgel of guilt; the reminder that my mother had commanded me was enough to make me obey, but his mention of my dead father plunged me into a grief-stricken silence. My poor, disgraced father.

I first met him when I was four years old. He’d worn a sword on his belt, a tall horsehair-crested helmet, and sculpted armor beneath a bloodred cape; he’d terrified me. When his studded military sandals first thundered on the marbled floors, I’d cowered and cried. My mother had scooped me into her arms and told me not to fear, for my father had gifts for me and my twin, and a marriage proposal for her. The Romans were our friends and protected us, she had said.


But now I knew she had lied.


When the real Romans came—for that’s what Octavian’s men called themselves—they came to conquer. When the real Romans came, not even my father with his mighty sword could protect us, and unable to live with this failure, he plunged that mighty sword into his stalwart heart.

Now, without him, everything was crumbling. Our palace was overrun by enemy soldiers, my two oldest brothers were missing, and my mother was a captive. All I could do was stumble along behind our tutor, silenced by the enormity of our loss.


Conquered Alexandria’s spacious streets were empty. Only the awnings of the marketplace stood as a colorful reminder of the usual bustle of its merchants. Even the gold-domed temples were deserted and I wondered if the gods had abandoned us too.


“Where is everyone?” little Philadelphus asked.


“They fled,” Euphronius said curtly as we passed the rows of statuary inside the royal enclosure. “The people fled when they heard Octavian’s legions were coming. Those who stayed have shut themselves up in their homes, doors locked and bolted.”


“So only statues stand bravely before the Romans,” Helios said, and I felt him bristle. My twin’s dark mood made mine even blacker. With my heavy basket, I trudged up the marble stairs, unable to swish my skirts in the royal fashion I had practiced. There were no crowds to wave to me now anyway. We had come to my mother’s tomb where she had hidden from Octavian, but he had found her. Now it was virtually her prison.


Euphronius approached the Roman guards. “Queen Cleopatra’s children are here to see her. The honorable Octavian gave his permission.”


One of the guards searched Euphronius. He actually put his unclean hands on our wizard’s holy person. I watched, aghast, trying to ignore the curious motion within the basket, an echo of the fear that snaked around my heart. Then the ill-mannered Roman guard approached me and I held my basket out to him, hoping he’d reach inside. Hoping that whatever evil spirit lurked there would fly out and strike him dead!


But the guard sniffed dismissively and waved me through like a peasant. It was the first time, but not the last time, I realized how easily Romans discounted a girl. Of course, my mother had learned that lesson long ago.


We found my mother in her tomb beside a wax statue of my father. She was setting out a meal for his ka, as if she were but a humble wife, and not Cleopatra, Pharaoh of Egypt.


Where my skin was fair, hers was a sun-kissed copper, befitting a ruler of a desert nation. Her hair was a curious mixture; dark strands shot through with bronze. And though her features were indelicate, her coloring was that of a golden goddess. Millions of people believed that she was just that—Isis reborn.


Candlelight glittered off the gilded walls of the tomb to surround her with an ethereal glow and for a moment, I thought she was working magic on my father’s statue. The common folk said that statues imbued with ka could be brought to life, but Euphronius had told us the rest of my father’s soul must pass through the gates into the next life, and my mother had agreed.


Now she turned to us with an expression of otherworldly serenity, which only added to my alarm, for serenity was never one of my mother’s famed characteristics. She bid her servants Iras and Charmian to take the basket from me, and I surrendered it eagerly. Then she opened her arms wide. “Come.”


We ran to her.


“The soldiers are everywhere!” Philadelphus wept, for he was only six years old, and frightened.


“Don’t cry,” Helios commanded.


“It’s all right,” my mother said, gently running her fingers over my little brother’s tearstained cheeks. “Kings and queens cry with family. Hide your grief from subjects and strangers.”


“The Romans won’t tell us anything,” I said, fighting back tears of my own. “Where’s Caesarion? Where’s Antyllus? What of our cousin, Petubastes? They’re all gone from the palace!”


“Petubastes is dead.” She answered simply, as if it would somehow hurt less. “And they butchered Antyllus as he begged for mercy at the foot of Caesar’s statue.”


We let out a sound of mingled anguish. Petubastes was a young priest of Ptah, no warrior at all. Antyllus was my father’s son by a Roman wife, but he’d come to live with us years before and we’d loved him. It was unthinkable that they could both be gone.


“How could they kill Antyllus?” my twin cried. “He’s one of them. He’s Roman!”


My mother pulled us tighter into her embrace, whispering, “For all his talk of Republic, Octavian is just a despot. He respects no law nor bond of kinship. You’d do well to remember that.”


“What about Caesarion?” I demanded to know of my oldest brother. “He’s King of Egypt. They can’t kill him too.”


My heart pounded as we waited for my mother’s answer. She didn’t meet my eyes when she spoke. “Caesarion is gone.”


Gone? What could she mean?


Sometimes it seemed that Helios inherited more Roman stoicism than even my father had possessed, for his jaw set in grim disapproval. “Do you mean he ran away?”


“Sometimes it’s better to fight another day,” my mother replied.


I felt my twin’s burning anger. Searching for a target, he rounded on Euphronius. “Why didn’t the people fight for us? Are they cowards? Do they hate us?”


The old wizard knew better than to speak without leave in the queen’s presence, so he busied himself lighting the alabaster divination lamps while my mother turned Helios’s chin and forced him to look at her. “Helios, I ordered the people not to fight. Once your father died, we lost all advantage. Resistance would have only made them burn the city. I know too well how the Romans love to burn things.”


They had burned her harbor, storage houses filled with books meant for the Great Library, and even her husband, Julius Caesar. She seemed to be remembering it all now, as she buried her nose in my hair. “Helios and Selene. My sun and my moon. Can it already be time to say good-bye? It seems as if Isis gave you to me just yesterday and not a decade ago.”


A pillar encrusted with lapis lazuli cast my twin brother’s face in blue shadow as he asked, “Why are we saying good-bye?”


My mother’s eyes were calm, but her voice quavered. “You children must go to Rome, but I’ll be going somewhere else. Without me, Octavian will have less reason to kill you. Without me, he’ll need you.”


The dread that had coiled in my arms as I held the basket now slithered up my spine. I understood, for the first time, that my mother meant to die.


Helios must have realized it too, because his face instantly reddened. “You said that in three days’ time we’re all going to Rome!”


“I said that because the Romans were listening,” my mother murmured.


She tried to take Helios’s hands into hers. He pulled them away as if burned; I felt the panic that flittered across his face as if it was my own. It was my own.


“We haven’t much time now,” my mother said. “So listen well. When Octavian declared war upon us, he said that a woman mustn’t think herself equal to a man. This was the just cause for which the Romans claimed to fight their war, so it will be hard for you in Rome. They’ll try to make you forget who you are or try to make you ashamed. But you mustn’t forget and you mustn’t be ashamed.”


“You said we were all going to Rome,” Helios insisted, as if saying it again would make it true.


My mother pretended not to hear him. “Euphronius has taught you about the nine bodies, yes? Your father has been properly buried, so his akh, his spiritual body, journeys through the afterlife. Now I’m going to join him.”


I looked to where my father was entombed with his armaments. He’d been a bear of a man, a warrior with a thick neck and broad shoulders who had, nonetheless, bowed to me and called me his princess. Sometimes, after his battles, he would come home and grab me up, tucking me under one arm as he walked. Other times, he would even get down on his knees, pretending to stalk me like one of the great cats of the jungle. That was the father I’d lost and now my mother meant to stay here with him, in this tomb, forever.


Her handmaidens were already laying out her royal raiment. Not the royal diadem of House Ptolemy but the ancient, long-abandoned Egyptian symbols—the white bulbous crown of Upper Egypt and the small red crown of Lower Egypt, with the crook and the flail.


I realized I was crying only when my tears splashed onto the marble floor. “I don’t want you to die too.”


“Selene,” my mother said. “Soon I’ll meet the gods of the West and pass through the gates that lead to my destiny—and yours.”


I hated her distant stare. It was as if she’d already started on her journey. “Please don’t die,” I pleaded. “I’ll do anything you say.”


Philadelphus added his pleas to mine. “No, Mother, please don’t leave us!”


At this, my mother’s tears finally spilled over her lashes. She brought Philadelphus’s hands to her lips then kissed each chubby finger in turn. “Death, well done, is a gateway from this world into another. It needn’t be the end of anything. I’m not afraid, so you children mustn’t be either.” Then her lips twisted into a pained expression. “I keep calling you children, but I’ve never let you be children. You were born kings and queens from the start and now you’re as I was at your age; you see through wizened eyes. Especially you, Selene. It’s your blessing and your curse.”


“Your Majesty,” Euphronius interrupted. “The sun is nearly set. There isn’t much time.”


My mother slowly nodded, blinking her tears away. “Fetch my magician’s chest.”


“I can help you work the heka,” Euphronius told her as we gathered around the oil lamp.


“No,” she said. “Save your magic for the time ahead. I’ll use what I have left for the children.”


Then my mother stared into the flame as sweet smoke filled the tomb, the scent of light magic surrounding us. She took a more formal tone. “Tonight, I’ve a gift for each of you. To protect you when I’m gone.”

From the chest, my mother took a collar of gold amulet and placed it around Philadelphus’s neck. She touched her forehead to his and said, “Ptolemy Philadelphus, I give you my sight.” Then she whispered the spell over the amulet to imbue it with power. “Oh my father Osiris, my brother Horus, my mother Isis, I’m unswathed and I see.”

Philadelphus’s soulful brown eyes fluttered wide then he staggered back as if he saw something frightening. Helios and I both turned to check behind us, fearful that Romans had entered this sanctuary, but we saw only my mother’s handmaidens.

Then my mother put a golden vulture amulet around Helios’s neck and he bowed his head, fists balled in frustration. “Alexander Helios, I give you my power, my sekhem.” She held his hand as she spoke the holy words. “The sovereignty of the whole world is decreed for him. May he war mightily and maketh his deeds to be remembered. His mother, the mighty lady Isis, protecteth him, and she hath transferred her strength unto him.”

At last, my mother came to me. She fastened upon my neck a small jade frog pendant. I squinted, for my brothers’ amulets seemed so much more impressive. Curious, I read the words carved on the frog’s green underbelly, and I arched a curious brow.

“Read it aloud,” my mother said.

My words came out bold and strong. “I am the Resurrection.”

In that moment, a power surged through me that I had never known. Magic.

The Nile’s green waves lapped at my consciousness, drawing me into the marshy reeds of a waking dream where life teemed. I saw the frog and the minnows, the life-giving silt settling onto the fields beyond, and everywhere I turned in the water, the birds flocked and water lilies blossomed. With my fingers, I traced lazy circles into the dream river bringing fish leaping to the surface. I passed dried brown foliage as I made my way to shore, and it sprouted green with life again. I gazed upon the washed-up carcass of a snake and it arose, coiled and shimmering.

It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, but the intensity was too much. My knees buckled under me. My mother’s guiding hands caught me to stop my fall. “Cleopatra Selene, I entrust you with my spirit, my ba. You are the Resurrection.”

I trembled, my mouth aquiver. “I don’t understand.”

“Which is for the better,” she said. “Because the Romans aren’t above torturing children for information. Your father would tell you to live as long as you can do so honorably. I tell you to live so long as you serve Isis. Worship her and follow her dictates. You will fall short; I often did. But still, you must try. Be charitable to the poor and the sick. Help the helpless and those in need. Be kind when you can and fierce when you must. Remember that Egypt and our very faith lives in you.”

Helios shook his head, not wanting to hear another word. I didn’t either. I wanted to make it all stop—to make everything go back to the way it was before Octavian came with his legions. But my mother made us listen. “There are only three kinds of ink that rulers use to write their stories. Sweat, blood, or tears. So choose your ink carefully, because one day Anubis will weigh your heart upon on a scale. If your heart is black and heavy with sin, it will go to the crocodiles in the hour of judgment. But if you’re faithful, Isis offers immortality.”

My mother drew us into her embrace one last time, then called for our tutor. “Euphronius, take the children and these wax tablets to Octavian. They contain my final wishes. Wait until it is too late for him to revive me, because he’ll surely try. His advisers will tell him to be glad that I’m dead, and he’ll know it’s better for him that I am. But there is something dark and twisted in that man. Octavian always wants most what he cannot have.”

Euphronius bowed low. “It will be my honor to keep you from his clutches, Your Majesty. I had hoped that in this River of Time, I could finish teaching the twins . . .”

“There wasn’t time, Euphronius. I understand,” she said.

The old man’s eyes glistened. “It shall all be done as you command.”

She reached for his hand—a rare gesture by the pharaoh, to touch someone outside the family. “Your loyalty has been worth more than all the gold in the world.”

Euphronius kissed her amethyst ring then withdrew as if all words failed him.

“Now take the children away,” she said.

Euphronius gathered the tablets and tugged me by the arm as I tried to stifle my sobs. I called out, “We could run away together. We could all go where the Romans would never find us.”

“Selene!” my mother snapped. “I’m going now to the only place the Romans cannot follow. You’re a Ptolemy, a queen, and a vessel of Isis. Remember it.”

As we left, my mother pulled the basket into her lap. She slid her arm beneath the lid and I heard the asp hiss. Then she whispered the last words I ever heard her say. “I may crumble away to dust, but my spirit remains. I journey home now, and though my lands fall fallow and my palaces turn to sand, Egypt lives a million years in me. I do not fear, for death is not the end of all things. I shall again warm myself by a fire, loved by a man, children upon my knee. In the Nile of Eternity, I shall live forever.”

Visit Stephanie on the web- http://www.stephaniedray.com/

PURCHASE Lily of the Nile ...

Find out what the Critics are saying about Author Stephanie Dray & Lily of the Nile...

~REVIEWS~



Errant Dreams Reviews

I have to admit, I squealed when Stephanie Dray’s Lily of the Nile found its way into my review pile. I’m a sucker for anything Cleopatra-related, and I was thrilled to have another chance to dip my toes into her world. Selene is a fascinating character, and watching her struggle with her feelings towards her deceased mother and her goddess while trying to weave a path through Octavian’s politics and ambitions is nothing short of breathtaking.

I really have to commend the amount of research that went into developing this book. It breathes such a sense of life and immediacy into the story, and as I read I could see the streets of Rome and feel the currents of common opinion changing. It made it so much easier to enter into Selene’s head and get caught up in her life. Don’t let the depth of research intimidate you; Ms. Dray has done a wonderful job of avoiding Latin terms or confusing spellings of names if at all possible. It makes for a very enjoyable, textured read. With that being said, purists may object to Ms. Dray changing the timeline in a couple of places, but for me it didn’t take away from the story at all, as those changes aren’t too terribly drastic.

Selene’s character as envisioned by Ms. Dray is without a doubt my favorite version that I have come across. Because of the depth of research, Selene moves from the romantic portrayals that ignore most of her mother’s legacy (educational and ideological) and render her a character largely unaware of the deeper undercurrents of the world into a young woman attempting to make the best of a difficult situation using her intellect. While she still goes through personal conflict as well, this conflict becomes a part of the story as opposed to the majority of it.

With that being said, Selene’s twin brother Helios can feel a bit flat at times, because his hatred towards Octavian and the Romans is so pronounced that it can obscure the rest of his personality. While the tension that exists at times between him and Selene at times is only natural between siblings, as the book progresses his anger began to me to feel more like a plot device than a character trait.

Octavian is portrayed as a rather cold, calculating man, and records seem to bear this out. And yet what fascinated me the most about him was that no mater how much he hated Cleopatra and what she stood for, he still considered her the only one capable of appreciating the scope of what he accomplished. It is a curiously human side at odds with his hard ambition, and put an entirely new spin on my perceptions of his personality.

Politics, both personal and played out on a world stage, play a large part in the lives of Selene and her brothers. Not only do they need to satisfy Octavian, but there are undercurrents in his household with his general Agrippa, his wife Livia, and his sister Octavia. The more I read, the more I found myself measuring how I might react in a given situation against Selene’s reactions. It definitely helped me appreciate the depth of education provided by simply growing up in a royal court, because I suspect Selene acquits herself better than I ever would!

The mixing of Isis worship into this cauldron of intrigue and politics adds a layer of depth to the lives of Cleopatra’s children that had never occurred to me before. Cleopatra portrays her children in a religious light more than once while she is alive; Ms. Dray has taken that idea and extended it on into their lives. In doing so, she illuminates some of the very earliest roots that Christianity was able to adapt to when it would enter the world stage. (Some of the books that she uses for research are included in the introduction, and I’m definitely going to have to track a few of them down.)
I absolutely adored this book, and I am thrilled to finally see Cleopatra Selene getting treated with just as much respect as her illustrious mother. Ms. Dray’s meticulous research has crafted a multi-dimensional world easy to get lost in, which is why I devoured the book in one sitting! Since this is the first novel in a trilogy, I am eagerly awaiting book two to see just how far some of the ripples in this book will spread.


Candace’s Book Blog

This book was really good. The story was good, the characters were good, the writing was good, the history was fascinating... I think you get the point. So let me go into detail a bit more.

I love historical fiction books but I tend to not pick them up as fast because they are heavy reading. With all my interruptions with kids I find it's more difficult to follow the story. Not this one! This book was easy to fly through and easy to follow. There were a lot of side characters and historical figures mentioned, but I never found myself getting confused at all. I think maybe I did have a bit of a hard time with all the children, keeping them straight as to who was who's child since there were a lot of half siblings, but it was never really a big issue for me. This sort of felt like a mix of adult and young adult. Although the character were young adult I think the history made it feel more adult? I'm not sure, but I thought it was a perfect mixture while still being appropriate for young adult readers.

The author threw magic realism into the story and it was great! It felt perfect and added to the story quite a lot. I think those that are less anxious to read historical fiction will enjoy this one because of how it was done.


I really liked Selene. She felt real to me. She had her faults and her weaknesses but she was smart and she watched everyone around her to try to shape things not only to her own advantage, but the advantage of Isiac worshipers, Egyptians and her family. She was quite clever even though no one seemed to see it at first- including herself.

The other characters were brilliant as well. All of the children each had their own personalities, though not all were very important or portrayed much in the story. The brothers to Selene were very real and I really could connect with them and understand their thoughts and reasoning's. I found Augustus was brilliantly done by the author. His thoughts, motivations and life were so clear. I could see and understand his personality perfectly. Stephanie really was brilliant in her character development.

The history was laid out quite well also. We got the pieces we needed for the story with the bits of back info as needed, but were never inundated with information that just went over our heads. I found myself so interested in what I did learn that I'm anxious to find many more books about this time period, culture and family. I have a couple books that I've put off reading that I'm anxious to read now, so this book has definitely inspired me.
I am very excited for the next book, Song of the Nile!

I give this one 5/5 moons.

Vanessa Barger of Slightly Skewed

I loved the book. I found it to be extremely well written and well researched. The characters, even those who did not appear often had depth and a history all their own. Small details, like the decorations for the Saturnalia festival and the Roman wedding ceremony dress and preparations had obviously been researched and added life to the story. For me, who has always had a fondness for ancient cultures, especially Egypt, it made the story that much better.

Over the course of the story, the reader watches as Seleste grows from a royal child into a strong, independent woman. She fights to protect her family, her people, her goddess, and herself. But it isn’t just about family, loyalty, faith or empowerment, though it is about those things. Its about learning who you are and what you are willing to do to achieve your dreams and protect those you love. And what you are willing to give up. In this, the author has done an excellent job. She could easily have made Seleste the perfect historical figure – kind, loving, determined and without any qualms about the things she had to do to survive, or the darker sides of her personality. Instead Mrs. Dray has given us the whole person: she worries about what she’s doing, she lies, she has a temper, has a crisis of faith, and makes mistakes.


Mrs. Dray’s novel kept me reading, captured me with beautiful detail and emotion and a plot rife with political intrique and self-discovery. I recieved the book on Monday, intending to read the first chapter and then put it aside until Christmas Break. Instead I couldn’t put the book down.


The book is excellent, although if the reader doesn’t share a love of ancient Egypt or Rome, they may find it boring in parts. The political intrigue in the book is easier to understand if you know the history involved. But that’s the only fault I can give it. I would recommend it to anyone. I will definitely be keeping an eye out for Stephanie Dray’s next book.

Visit Stephanie on the web-  www.stephaniedray.com/books/

Purchase Lily of the Nile

"Getting to Know" Author Stephanie Dray ...

Stephanie Dray is the author of a forthcoming trilogy of historical fiction novels set in the Augustan Age, starting with Lily of the Nile: A Novel of Cleopatra's Daughter.

Before she wrote novels, Stephanie was a lawyer, a game designer, and a teacher. Now she uses the transformative power of magic realism to illuminate the stories of women in history and inspire the young women of today. She remains fascinated by all things Roman or Egyptian and has–to the consternation of her devoted husband–collected a house full of cats and ancient artifacts.


She is currently sponsoring the Cleopatra Literary Contest for Young Women, the deadline for which is March 1, 2011, but join her newsletter now for updates and a chance to win a free copy of Lily of the Nile and additional prizes.


Website: www.stephaniedray.com/books/

Our SPOTLIGHT is on LILY of the NILE by Stephanie Dray ...

With her parents dead, the daughter of Cleopatra and Mark Antony is left at the mercy of her Roman captors. Heir to one empire and prisoner of another, it falls to Princess Selene to save her brothers and reclaim what is rightfully hers…

In the aftermath of Alexandria’s tragic fall, Princess Selene is taken from Egypt, the only home she’s ever known. Along with her two surviving brothers, she’s put on display as a war trophy in Rome. Selene’s captors mock her royalty and drag her through the streets in chains, but on the brink of death, the children are spared as a favor to the emperor’s sister, who takes them to live as hostages in the so-called lamentable embassy of royal orphans…

Now trapped in a Roman court of intrigue that reviles her heritage and suspects her faith, Selene can’t hide the hieroglyphics that carve themselves into her flesh. Nor can she stop the emperor from using her for his own political ends. But faced with a new and ruthless Caesar who is obsessed with having a Cleopatra of his very own, Selene is determined honor her mother’s lost legacy. The magic of Egypt and Isis remain within her. But can she succeed where her mother failed? And what will it cost her in a political game where the only rule is win or die?

Purchase Lily of the Nile:

Amazon

Barnes & Noble


Borders


Indiebound


Powell’s

Visit Stephanie on the WEB-  http://www.stephaniedray.com/