author Laura Fitzgerald, veil of roses, american author, women in Iran, women's fiction, Iran news, women's rights, middle east women, contemporary american fiction, book club romance, Wisconsin writers, Arizona writers
HOME : BEHIND THE STORY : KUDOS : EXCERPTS : BOOK CLUBS : CONTACT : VEIL SEQUEL

Veil of Roses: The Sequel

One of the questions I'm asked most often is, "Will you ever write a sequel to Veil of Roses?" For the longest time, my answer was no, because in my mind, Tami gets her happily-ever-after at the end of Veil of Roses. However, my wise readers kept saying, "Are you sure about that? Are you really, really sure about that?" Well, life deals us all some blows now and again, and all too often it's just when you think everything's finally going right in your life.

Poor Tami. It seems her struggles do continue. Will she and Ike live together in harmony? Will Homeland Security approve her application for residency or consider her marriage a fraud? Will some ghosts from her not-too-distant past cause problems for her, or will they leave her alone?

And what about Maryam? Will she and Ardishir fulfill their wish to be parents? Any complications with the pregnancy?

How about Ike and his dream of opening a coffee shop? Will the staggering economy deal him a blow like it's dealt to so many small business owners?

What about Rose, Tami's favorite person in America? A sign leading to her garden reads, "Only my garden knows the secrets of my soul." But not for long. A few of Rose's secrets finally catch up with her. Is this for the good?

And last, but certainly not least, what happens to Tami's beloved parents? Now that their quest to get their daughters settled in America seems to have been achieved, what happens next for them?

If you have ideas, send them my way: Click here.


I did it, Maman.
I am here, now.
I have found a way to stay.
I have even found love.


I was married by Elvis Presley
At the Chapel of the Blue Suede Shoes
In the City of Sin.
If you’d been here, Maman,
I would have been married in my sister’s home.
You would have washed my hair with your lavender soap
And laced flowers in my hair,
Making for me a veil of roses.


Go, you said. Go and wake up your luck.
But what about you?
At last, Maman – what about you?
Come, I say to you now.
Come, Maman Joon.
Come, and wake up your luck.