Book Spotlight (and a Giveaway!): The Sisters of Corinth by Angela Hunt

THE SISTERS OF CORINTH by Angela Hunt
SERIES: The Emissaries #2
GENRE: Historical/Biblical-era Fiction (Christian)
PUBLISHER: Bethany House
RELEASE DATE: May 21, 2024
PAGES: 385

“Angela Hunt takes her craft to new heights–and depths–as she fully immerses us in the lives and struggles of first-century followers of Yeshua.”–Tamera Alexander, bestselling author on The Woman from Lydia

When the new provincial governor arrives in Corinth, the esteemed Chief Magistrate Narkis Ligus, father to Mariana and Prima, is delighted. He sees a golden opportunity to propel himself to greater power and fortune by uniting his and the governor’s households through the marriage of one of his beautiful unwed daughters to the governor’s firstborn son.

Yet complications quickly arise in Narkis’s own family. Mariana, his stepdaughter, holds steadfast faith in Yeshua, rendering her hesitant to marry a man devoted to the Roman gods, despite Narkis’s urging. On the other hand, Prima, his daughter by birth, yearns for a life of wealth and status and is willing to go to great lengths to secure a marriage that fulfills her desires–even if it means betraying Mariana to do so.

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AD 60

When Salama stepped into my bedchamber, her face twisted with distress, I dropped the scroll I had been reading. “D- Domina,” my handmaid stuttered. “I know you want to read without interruption, but your mother commanded me to fetch you.”

Irritation wrestled with curiosity as I picked up the scroll and furled it. “Do you know why?”

“Unexpected guests have arrived.” “Friends of my mother’s?”

“I do not recognize them, Domina. But the woman mentioned you by name.”

My curiosity flickered. Few of my mother’s friends had time for me, and none of them would seek me out.

“Our visitors are women?”

Salama shook her head. “A man and a woman. Their tunics are faded, they have the tanned skin of fieldworkers, and they do not look like they live in Corinth.”

My irritation vanished. I knew only a few people from outside Corinth, and all of them were dear to me.

I stood, shook the wrinkles out of my tunic, and checked my reflection in the looking brass. I had not dressed for visitors but did not want to disrespect this couple by appearing unkempt in their presence. “Should you rearrange my hair?”

“You look beautiful, Domina. And these guests do not seem overly concerned with appearances.” A blush dark- ened Salama’s cheek. “I apologize; I do not mean to insult your—”

“Do not worry. I have many friends who are not overly concerned with appearances.” I smiled to put my handmaid at ease and moved toward the door. “Are they outside?”

“Yes, Domina.”

I left my chamber and strode toward the garden. Once I stepped through the doorway, I heard the mingled tones of a man and woman in conversation with my mother. My pulse quickened when I recognized their voices, and a peek around the rose arbor confirmed my hunch: “Aquilla and Priscilla! How wonderful to see you!”

“Mariana!” They stood, opening their arms, and I hugged each of them, holding Priscilla for an extra-long moment. “When we said farewell,” I whispered in her ear, “I did not think I would ever see you again.”

“Adonai had other plans.” Priscilla stepped back and pinned me in a quick scrutiny. “You have grown into an attractive young lady! How old are you now? Fourteen?”

“Fifteen,” I answered, not knowing whether I should be pleased by her interest or embarrassed by my unmarried status.

Priscilla smiled and gestured to an empty space on a garden bench. “Please join us. We were telling your mother about Paulos.”

A flush of pleasure warmed my cheeks. Paulos had changed my life, mine and Mother’s, by introducing us to Yeshua of Nazareth. But we had not seen the fiery emissary in months.

I sat next to Mother. “Is Paulos well? Is he still being held in Caesarea?”

Priscilla looked to her husband, who tugged on his silvered beard before speaking. “He has been sent to Rome. He has been there several months, but we have received letters, so we know he is well. Luke is with him, also Epaphras and a few others. They see to his needs while he is confined.”

“He is still in prison?”

Aquilla nodded. “But he is grateful for a good situation. He is kept in an apartment, under guard, but he is free to write.”

“And his health?” Mother asked. “He develops a severe cough in these months of cold weather.”

“Luke takes good care of him,” Aquilla assured her. “And we are on our way to visit them.”

A crease wrinkled Mother’s brow. “Are you concerned about going back to Rome? It has not been so long since the Jews were expelled.”

Aquilla snorted softly. “Claudius is dead, and thus far Nero appears to be tolerant of those who hold different religious beliefs. Still, Paulos has warned us not to attract attention when we begin our work. We will no longer preach in synagogues. Instead, we will hold meetings in our home.”

“So we will be shopping for a large domicile,” Priscilla said, dimpling as she squeezed her husband’s arm. “We do not care if the building has fallen into ruin, so long as it can hold dozens of people. Our budget is limited, but we believe the Lord will lead us to the right house.”

“One with a walled garden,” Aquilla added. “To avoid prying eyes. As long as we do not disturb the peace, we should not attract undesirable attention.”

Mother glanced toward the house, then lowered her voice. “Mariana and I know all about not attracting attention. Narkis and his daughter . . . they do not worship Adonai. We have had to be discreet about our faith.”

Priscilla’s narrow face furrowed with concern. “I am so sorry,” she whispered. “Does your husband—does he feel threatened by your beliefs?”

“No.” Mother managed a tremulous smile. “As you said, Mariana and I take care not to disturb the peace of the household. Narkis is a good man, and he knows we worship Adonai. He does not know we no longer worship the Roman gods. He would not tolerate such dissension.”

She leaned forward, clearly intent on changing the subject. “Tell us about this new emperor. I have asked Narkis about him, but I do not think he knows as much as he would have me believe. Is Nero a good man? Can he be trusted to let us worship in peace, or will he expel believers as Claudius did the Jews?”

Aquilla cleared his throat. “According to what I have heard, Nero has done many good things. He put an end to secret trials and gave the Senate more independence. He has given slaves permission to bring legal complaints against unjust masters. He has even pardoned men who plotted against him. But . . .”

Mother lifted a brow. “What else have you heard?”

Aquilla blew out a breath. “Whatever good Nero may have done in public pales in the light of what he is reported to have done in private. He believes himself to be a skilled actor, musician, and charioteer, but he is not, so he forces people to offer false praise. He has taken a lover, committing adultery against his wife. But the worst thing he has done is murder his mother.”

A chill spidered up my spine. “His mother,” Aquilla continued, his voice low and gruff, “spoke against the emperor’s new mistress, and he refused to tolerate her interference. They say he arranged for her to sail across the Bay of Naples after a feast, but then sabotaged the boat. When the vessel broke apart during the journey, his mother managed to swim to shore.”

“A brave woman!” I said, grinning.

Aquilla gave me a rueful smile. “Unfortunately, that is not the end of the story. When Nero heard his mother had escaped, he sent one of his officers to her home. When she realized death had come for her, she confronted the soldier, pressed the tip of his sword against her belly, and commanded the guard to pierce her in that spot because the fruit of her womb had engineered her demise.”

My stomach dropped. Though I had not held any regard for the emperor’s mother before hearing Aquilla’s report, I could not help admiring her. If only I could meet death with such courage. If only I could face my stepfather with such bravery.

Mother reached out and took our guests’ hands, but a deep line remained between her brows. “In going to Rome, you may be walking into a pit of vipers, so I will pray for you. Every morning and night, I will lift your names to the Father and ask Him to bless you and Paulos.”

The conversation had taken a turn toward adult matters, yet I loved Paulos and wanted him to remain alive and well. “Please tell Paulos we miss him,” I added, my cheeks burning.

“We will tell him,” Priscilla said, smiling at me, “and knowing how you love to read, Mariana, we have brought you a copy of one of his letters.” She nodded at Aquilla, who pulled a rolled set of papyri from a leather bag. “It is a copy of his letter to the believers in Rome. Have you read it?”

Angela Hunt, The Sisters of Corinth
Bethany House © 2024. Used by permission.

Angela Hunt is a New York Times bestselling author of more than 160 books, with nearly 6 million copies sold worldwide. Angela’s novels have won or been nominated for the RWA RITA Award, the Christy Award, the ECPA Christian Book Award, and the HOLT Medallion. Four of her novels have received ForeWord Magazine‘s Book of the Year Award, and Angela is the recipient of a Lifetime Achievement Award from both the Romantic Times Book Club and ACFW. Angela holds doctorates in biblical studies and theology. She and her husband make their home in Florida with mastiffs and chickens. Learn more at AngelaHuntBooks.com.

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