Styling herself as Octavia, she drew a following of women who set up their own religious community; The Panacea Society. The women believed they were working towards the end of days and the opening of a box sealed years before by the prophetess Joanna Southcott. They believed that by persuading all 24 Bishops to accept the supreme rule of women than the answer to all despair would be revealed upon the opening of the box. Told from the perspective of Dilys, the youngest member of the society, events slowly unfold.
At first this seems a very domestic and civilised cult. A wry, humorous tone pervades the narrative. Will the Lord really care about the cushion covers? And if Jesus returns and finds you looking tired and drawn, will he cancel the second coming? It is a gentle introduction to the society, building a picture of a group that is slightly eccentric, definitely misguided but ultimately doing no harm.
The arrival of fresh blood in the form of the lively and beguiling Grace throws the women into stark relief. Dilys is the one to find Grace. Almost unwittingly she brings her into the fold and quickly comes to rely on her. At the start of the novel Dilys is fumbling, misguided and clearly unhappy. Her life is ruled by signs and messages, interpreted and imposed on her by others. If the novel starts with benign domesticity McGlasson slow, menacingly slides this air of comfort away.
Tensions build as darker motivations and actions come into play. A series of shocking revelations and discoveries come together to reveal a group not in harmony.
An increasing air of suspicion and accusations surround the characters and we begin to see what happens as core values are threaten and life long beliefs begin to shatter. McGlasson has built a compelling portrait of a group of vulnerable souls, devastated by loss and war, looking for a truth that they can believe in.
The novel raises key questions about the search for a wider truth, and who do we trust in our search. It pursues the blurred lines between faith, hope and the ultimate reality. Download now. Buy a paper book. Bound by Blood by Carrie Pulkinen. Bound to the Alpha by Juniper Hart. Bound by Joy by Piper Davenport. Bound by the Billionaire by Juliana Conners.
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First name. Last name. Website optional. Email address. In my steepled city steeped in song, I pitied that christian god his labor. He made marrow and astonishment of us. We made bludgeon of him, bland bread of his son. My neighbor used to be a missionary. Now he spends days painting a bird pecking at the eyeballs of a dead girl. In the painting, you can only see the bird.
See how the artist probes the light so the feathers shimmer. Beautiful , the TV mother says to each guest as the house burns down. She sashays through the parlor, stopping to nibble on a stuffed mushroom, dab sweat from the brow of a dignitary. Everything is a metaphor until the body abuts it.
Even then. Metaphor with blood. Metaphor with teeth. Metaphor with epinephrine. I name each blow desire. Look how your hand revises my form. Extraordinary ability. Prodigal child. You leave and take your weather with you. I take your language to polish my wound, but rarely do I dare to mean anything at all. A poem is evidence of nothing. You cannot prosecute with a poem. I thought your violence made me good.