by: Jeanne Mackin
Genre: Historical Fiction
Release Date: January 23, 2024
Publisher: Berkley
You know Pablo Picasso. Now meet the women behind the masterpieces. The women of Picasso's life are glamorous and elusive, existing in the shadow of his fame - until, in the 1950's, aspiring journalist Alana Olsen determines to bring one into the light and discovers a past complicated by secrets and intrique.
Gazes from Pablo Picasso are like brushstrokes. Some are long, lingering, full of texture and pigment. Some are short, shallow, even accidental. His gaze on me now falls somewhere between the two.
Once, his gaze would have found enough for an entire painting. He would have seen flesh, and the bone and muscle under the flesh, the question or certainty of the eyes. He would have seen past, present, and future and painted them in a way that made time irrelevant.
Yes, that was how he pained me. Everything and at once, all the angles and geometry of the body, and he made of me something eternal and always beautiful. That is what an artists can do for a woman. When most men looked at me, all I saw in their faces was desire, the urge to possess. When Pablo looked at me, his face filled with wonder waiting to be translated to lines and brushstrokes.
Spring. The second year of the Great War. I wasn’t twenty yet, and had returned from cold, starving Moscow, where a loaf of bread coast as much as a silk dress…Back to Paris for me!
When Pablo first saw me, I was sitting on the rim of the Wallace Fountain in Place Emile, face turned up to the sun like a basking cat, enjoying the fine day and wondering what adventure I might find…It was early summer. I had stolen a bunch of cherries at Les Halles and a roll, but my stomach rattled.
Once, his gaze would have found enough for an entire painting. He would have seen flesh, and the bone and muscle under the flesh, the question or certainty of the eyes. He would have seen past, present, and future and painted them in a way that made time irrelevant.
Yes, that was how he pained me. Everything and at once, all the angles and geometry of the body, and he made of me something eternal and always beautiful. That is what an artists can do for a woman. When most men looked at me, all I saw in their faces was desire, the urge to possess. When Pablo looked at me, his face filled with wonder waiting to be translated to lines and brushstrokes.
Spring. The second year of the Great War. I wasn’t twenty yet, and had returned from cold, starving Moscow, where a loaf of bread coast as much as a silk dress…Back to Paris for me!
When Pablo first saw me, I was sitting on the rim of the Wallace Fountain in Place Emile, face turned up to the sun like a basking cat, enjoying the fine day and wondering what adventure I might find…It was early summer. I had stolen a bunch of cherries at Les Halles and a roll, but my stomach rattled.
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ReplyDeleteI like the excerpt. Sounds like a very intriguing book.
ReplyDeleteI loved the excerpt!
ReplyDeleteThanks for hosting me! And Marcy, I found Pablo himself very intriguing!
ReplyDeleteLoved the excerpt! Sounds so good!
ReplyDeleteThis should be a very interesting read!
ReplyDeleteI like everything about this - genre title and cover!
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing it.
Thank you. Yes, I will think Berkley did a great job with this cover
DeleteThis sounds like a fascinating book.
ReplyDeleteThanks!
DeleteThanks so much. Authors need your enthusiasm! Have a great weekend
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