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Witch Trails and Forbidden Love in Colonial America - an Editorial Review of "The Healer's Daughter"

Updated: Sep 24

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Book Blurb:


A captivating historical tale of witch trials, forbidden love, and survival in colonial America.

Late 17th century. Men are determined to keep women barred from medicine, yet for ages, the remarkable Galene mothers and daughters have healed where no man could. Naida is destined to follow her foremothers’ virtuous path, but when her grandmother is executed for reviving a stillborn, she flees to Charles Town, a raw and untamed colony where healers don’t burn, unless… But when love awakens her all-too-human heart, Naida commits the unthinkable. Will she honor her pledge and make the ultimate sacrifice, or will she defy the past from dictating her future and risk losing everything…?


Perfect for readers who enjoy:● Witch trials, persecution, and survival stories● Strong heroines, midwives, and women healers● Colonial America historical settings● Feminist historical fiction with magical realism● Atmospheric novels like those of Louisa Morgan, Paula Brackston, and Alice Hoffman


Fans of A Secret History of Witches and Practical Magic will be spellbound by The Healer’s Daughter, a story of resilience, family bonds, and the enduring fight for freedom and love.



Author Bio:


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Myriana Merkovic was born in Rwanda, Africa, to a Yugoslav father and a Dutch mother, raised in Casablanca, Morocco, and educated in Belgium. She fell in love with America during a family vacation and promised her ten-year-old self that she would one day call this land her home. Sixteen years later, armed with her degree in Physical Therapy from the University of Brussels, she finally put down roots and became a proud citizen in 1994. To this day, she still is in love with this beautiful country and its people.

Her travels across continents gave her an appreciation of cultures' subtleties and nature's ingenuity, while her career in the medical field instilled in her awe and respect for life's resilience and frailty. Both journeys taught her that when we open our minds and hearts, we find greatness, closeness, and harmony with all.

She lives in Florida with her husband, Spider, her Labrador Sam, and her sassy cat, Sally, and continues to write stories that blend the hardships of reality with the grace of fantasy.


Editorial Review:


Title: The Healer’s Daughter: A Historical Tale of Love, Loss, Fear and Magic

Title: Myriana Merkovic

Rating: 4.5 Stars


Myriana Merkovic's "The Healer's Daughter: A Historical Tale of love, Loss, Fear and Magic" is a dark, heavy historical novel written in 1693 soon after the Salem witch trials. This was when the fire of superstition still smoldered on and such women who had knowledge of herbs and healing were feared and hated. Such knowledge alienated them from the stern religious order of Puritan New England. The book follows Naida Galene, a young woman who has already witnessed her grandmother Vesta being burned, and who now flees with her mother Zephyr down the New England forests and streams. They are outcasts, with little to inherit but an old healer's kit, seeds, and a heritage that the rest of the world calls witchcraft. The book swings between the bitter harshness of existence and the visions that visit Naida in dream-like states as she discovers that she has inherited the deadly legacy of her ancestors.


The opening does not attempt to soften what has happened. It drops the reader in the stench and flavor of smoke and death, no warning, no hesitation

“Carried by the breeze, the stench ripples around me—acrid, coppery, so thick I can taste it. You’d know it was burning flesh if you smelled it. It’s like nothing else. Even more sickening are the whiffs of sulfur conjuring memories of flames licking her hair.”

This is a long, gagging and unforgettable passage. It illustrates how the novel doesn't approach history as something distant or tidied but as something that burrows under the skin. There's no gentleness here, the language is heavy and relentless, and it's apparent from the opening chapter that Naida is tormented not just by loss but by the viciousness of a community that killed her family. The way that the sentences push the reader through every whiff of smoke and sulfur until it stays in the mind is almost too much, but that's the point.


Later the book takes a very different tone. Naida slips into water and drifts towards the river bottom, and then at that point the story bends toward myth and dream. It's one of the most powerful things in the book, maybe even the most powerful thing, because it takes the ordinary struggle of survival and suddenly opens into something timeless:

"Something even stranger happens when I meet the riverbed’s sandy bottom. I see my foremothers awaken from the depths and stream toward me without uttering a single word. One by one, they put their fingertips to my forehead and unlock ancestral memories I didn’t know were there, revealing magic I didn’t know was possible.”


The rhythm here is more laid back, soft, and almost ritualistic. The verbs are chosen with precision and work together to create the feeling of something old and powerful. It is lovely and disturbing. Some will be shocked by the shift, some may find it moving, but either way it enhances Naida's journey. She is no longer just an exiled victim, but someone stepping into a legacy that extends far beyond her.


But the book does not stay dreamy for long. Danger presses in again, and there is a scene when even nature appears menacing. Naida sees something coming towards her as a storm rages on, and the words collapse into broken pieces that catch the fear:

“Slowly, she stretches her arm and points her finger at me. Her black hair whips in the wild wind. … Suddenly, a distant blue-white ray of light appears over the river, rushing toward me like an arrow from a bow. The blazing flat line aims straight at me, stirring a flurry of waves on its path.”


The rhythm here is disrupted and fast, chopped sentences and imagery thrown like flashes of lightning. The use of natural power repeated — wind, light, water — emphasizes the sense that Naida is contained in something larger than herself, and maybe something she cannot control.


Throughout the book the writing achieves this balance between dense sensory detail and poetic movement. It's challenging — the descriptions are lush, sometimes nearly overwhelming — but it's a rich reward, because it gives the impression that the world is lived in, all the smells and the feels and the shadows thrust onto the page. Naida bears the story on her fear and her courage, but her mother and grandmother give it the anchor of sacrifice and hardiness.


This isn't a light book. Much of it is excessive, but history itself proved excessive for the women compelled to experience it. "The Healer's Daughter: A historical tale of love, loss, fear and magic" conveys that burden, illustrating the violence of a culture afraid of knowledge and the passive strength of women who held their line in spite of it. It is a story about persecution and exile as much as it is about inheritance and power. It won't be for readers seeking quick action. But for those who enjoy lyrical, poetic writing and women's strength fiction under repression, this book will be a doorway into another time.


To have your historical novel editorially reviewed and/or enter the HFC Book of the Year contest, please visit www.thehistoricalfictioncompany.com/book-awards/award-submission 

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