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Excerpt: Seeds of the Pomegranate by Suzanne Uttaro Samuels

  • Writer: Archaeolibrarian
    Archaeolibrarian
  • 1 hour ago
  • 4 min read

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Book details:

Book Title: Seeds of the Pomegranate

Series: n/a

Author Name: Suzanne Uttaro Samuels

Publication Date: September 2, 2025

Publisher: Sibylline Press

Pages: 384 pages

Genre: Historical Fiction; Women’s Fiction; Immigrant Fiction; Heritage Fiction; Crime Fiction

Any Triggers: some implied violence

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#SuzanneSamuels @thecoffeepotbookclub


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@suzanne.samuels @thecoffeepotbookclub

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A gritty story of a woman learning to survive in 20th century Gangland New York


In early 20th-century Sicily, noblewoman Mimi Inglese, a talented painter, dreams of escaping the rigid expectations of her class by gaining admission to the Palermo Art Academy. But when she contracts tuberculosis, her ambitions are shattered. With the Sicilian nobility in decline, she and her family leave for New York City in search of a fresh start.


Instead of opportunity, Mimi is pulled into the dark underbelly of city life and her father’s money laundering scheme. When he is sent to prison, desperation forces her to put her artistic talent to a new use—counterfeiting $5 bills to keep her family from starvation and, perhaps, to one day reclaim her dream of painting. But as Gangland violence escalates and tragedy strikes, Mimi must summon the courage to flee before she is trapped forever in a life she never wanted.


From Sicily’s sun-bleached shores to the crowded streets of immigrant New York, Seeds of the Pomegranate is a story of courage, art, and the women who refused to disappear.

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CHAPTER 1 Palermo, Sicily 1905


When I entered the studio that morning, there was no model posed on the marble pedestal. No vase overflowing with flowers; no bowl of fruit. Tomorrow, the Academy closed for the summer so that our teacher, Monsieur Laurent, could join the other painters in the south of France. The other students worked busily at their easels, the only sounds the whisper of brushstrokes on canvas and the occasional scraping of the stools against the wood floor. The air was dense with turpentine and sweat. I wound my way through the crowded room to my easel, where my latest work stood drying.


Binvinutu. My family’s manor house, nestled amidst the fields high in the Trapani Mountains of western Sicily. I’d finished late last night and left the studio unsure about the changes I’d made. In the light of day, though, I could see the painting was good.


All year, I’d been preparing for admission to the Palermo Academy of Fine Arts. My portfolio was stuffed with copies of the Old Masters. Botticelli and da Vinci. Michelangelo and Raphael. Proof that I was a competent artist, prepared to enter the two-year course of study. But this painting—Binvinutu—showed I was more than just capable. Mamma would say I was conceited. I didn’t care. Monsieur said I had talent. I could be the first woman admitted to the Academy.


I watched as my teacher made his way around the other students’ stools and easels, quietly pointing out where a perspective could be sharpened, or a hue deepened. By the time he reached me, my heart was pounding. Dark spots flashed in front of my eyes. I tried to take a few deep breaths. There was a tightness there I hadn’t felt before. Nerves. Nonna always said I let my emotions get the better of me.


Monsieur pointed to the three figures I’d painted last night. “You’ve added these.”


I nodded. Rosalia, Caterina, and I, garbed in purple and yellow, magenta and green, garish colors Mamma never would have permitted. In the painting, we moved easily through a field of flowers, something that would have been impossible with the headscarves and head-to-toe mantles we were actually forced to wear outside the house. On my canvas, though, we were young women, our lives just beginning. Not crones, hidden from the world.


Monsieur studied the composition for a long time. So long, in fact, that I began to worry that I’d taken things too far. “Your sisters?” he asked, finally.


I pointed to the figure in the middle. “Rosalia.” Then the smaller one at the end. “Caterina.”


Monsieur narrowed his eyes. “You decided on the composition weeks ago. I’m wondering: why add these now?”


My stomach dropped. Next, Monsieur would tell me to paint over the figures with a pergola or a copse of trees. “It wasn’t finished,” I mumbled.


“And it’s complete, now?” Not trusting my voice, I nodded. “How do you know this, Mademoiselle?”


I hesitated before saying the only thing I could think of: It felt right.


Monsieur smiled broadly. “Yes, Mademoiselle. You painted with your heart, not your brain. This is what an artist does.”

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Suzanne Uttaro Samuels writes about women who defy expectations and the secrets that shape families across generations.


Her debut novel, Seeds of the Pomegranate (Sibylline Press, 2025), follows a young Sicilian noblewoman whose search for freedom and art leads her into the hidden world of counterfeiters in early twentieth-century New York.


A former law professor turned novelist, Suzanne now lives in a lakeside cottage in the Adirondack Mountains with her husband, dog, and two cats. When she’s not writing, she’s exploring old family stories, local history, and the way memory lingers in the places we call home.


 

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Tour hosted by: The Coffee Pot Book Club

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