#ReadWithMC-Welcome to Marie Claire's virtual book club. It is a pleasure to meet you, and for the month of November we will be reading E.M. Tran's "Daughters of the New Year". This debut novel illuminates the family's entire lineage and the ancient legends that bind them together. Please read an excerpt below and find out how you can participate. (1]

On the eve of the first day of Chinese New Year, Shuang called the children to give them their horoscopes. For at least a week, they perused a huge book with the annual horoscope and star positions for each sign and a daily zodiac calendar with the phases of the moon.

Xuan always called his children in the same order. First was her eldest son, Truck, then her middle child, Nie, and finally her youngest, Trieu. Every year, she would call her children in the order in which they were born, recalling the origin of the Chinese zodiac and laughing in private. When she lived in Vietnam, her own mother would recite the story every year at Tet. According to the myth, the Jade Emperor beckoned all animals to join the race. It was an invitation to be incorporated into the zodiac for all time, but there were only twelve winners. The order in which they crossed the finish line was the order in which they would be inscribed in the Zodiac. But of course the race was dangerous, and the animals had to cross all kinds of terrain in all kinds of weather. The last and most difficult hurdle was crossing the Mighty River to enter Heaven, where the Jade Emperor awaited their arrival.

In her own inside joke, Xuan was the Jade Emperor and her own children were clawing scraggly animals, fighting their way into heaven to be first, second, and third in the constellation. Of course, Truck, Nee, and Trieu paid little attention to this myth and were unaware of Suan's excitement over it. No doubt, they would have been inexplicably angry at everything Xuan did. Just a few days ago, Xuan went to the truck house. Shuang did not want the children to cook. Xuan did not want her children to learn to cook.

"I'll teach you how to make wonton soup," she would say to one of the children. Sometimes it was wontons, sometimes it was vermicelli, sometimes it was stir-fried beef. She would tell them how to make the best soup, because they would all answer with a roll of the eyes or an ambiguous evasion. 'Your mother knows how to make the best soup in town. She's the best cook in the world," she would say, but still no one wanted to take her up on the offer.

But she was pressed to come to the truck house. The truck house was in a part of town where Suan hated to drive, and she was expected to act polite about her eldest daughter's cooking. Suan had no idea where she had learned to cook that dish. It must have been the Internet or an American website. This was the reason Truck never married. And what was worse, when Suan offered to help, Truck replied, "I know how to do it," followed by "God," with a sigh, as if he were deaf. It would show up at the most unexpected moment. She could not prepare herself. It hit her in the gut. The children seemed oblivious to it, always caught up in their own defensive instincts.

"Can you put pork in it so fast?

"Yes, I want to put the pork in so fast," she said. And when dinner was ready, Xuan thought the pork was tough, dry, and too salty.

She wanted to tell the children the direction each should go to bring them good luck on the first day of Chinese New Year. She wanted to tell the children to avoid dangerous undertakings and the color white. I wanted to give him the recipe for bitter melon stir-fry. I wanted her to listen, but I knew she would not. She talked anyway. She also told Nee, who was filming a terrifying reality show about American women fighting over mediocre American men in Vietnam. She has been almost out of reach for three months filming "The Elite Bachelor" and must be nearing the end now.

"Mom, I don't think you're allowed to call her in Vietnam," said Trieu, who now lives in an old bedroom in Xuan's house.

"Why not?" I call her, I am her mother.

"You haven't talked to me in months."

"I don't need a reason. I call her when I feel like it.

"She's filming a TV show. I don't think she has a cell phone."

"Then how do you talk to her? Xuan asked, but felt satisfied with Trieu's guilty look. She had heard her daughter talking on the phone in the bedroom, so loudly that she was surprised that Trieu thought she could muffle the conversation with the simple fact that the door was closed.

"My daughter only calls me when she has the chance. It's always from a different phone number."

"Tell me how to call her," Suan said.

Trieu gave Suan the phone number of Ni's agent in Los Angeles. 'It's a woman in LA. I don't think you need to call her. What are you calling her for?'

Suan entered the room with a cordless phone. When the woman answered the phone, she did not say hello. There was a dry, fried quality to her voice that reminded Xuan of pork in a truck. [Angela Weiser," she said.

"Hi, I'm Xuan Chun. I'm Ni Chun's mother."

"Oh, how can I help you?" Angela Weiser was not accustomed to sudden phone calls.

"I need to speak to my daughter, but I don't know how to reach her. Do you have a phone number?"

"Is something wrong?" "It's a family emergency." The sharp edges of her words melted away. Her greeting had begun so efficiently, but now Shuan could hear her core point.

She was glad Angela Weiser was her daughter's agent.

"No, it's not an emergency." "I just need to talk to her."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Chung. She has a designated time to call and she only gets in touch with me once in a while. I will tell her to call you the next time we speak."

"I will leave a message, please tell my daughter, okay."

"Sure," said Angela Weiser.

"Do you have a pencil?" "Do you want to write it down?"

"Yes, I have paper and pen."

"Tell my daughter it's the Year of the Monkey." "A very bad combination for a fire tiger like her."

"Sorry."

"It will be the year of the monkey," Gen repeated. 'Tigers and monkeys never get along. Tiger and Jin never get along. They are always fighting, and it may be a bad year for my daughter. Tiger and Monkey always quarrel and fight all the time, so it may be a bad year for my daughter. This year may be a bad year for my daughter," he said. I heard the sound of a pen scratching the paper.

"That's it." [for monkeys are tricky animals. She has to be careful of tricks and deceptions."

"Small tricks... Or ... . deceit," she murmured. 'I get it.'

"Also, if you wish for money, go to the south. If you wish for luck, fame, and prestige, go southwest. Maybe I should do this because I'm an actress.

"Hmm, that may be so," Angela said. 'Should she go southwest for a walk, or does it not matter?'

"Yeah, first thing in the morning. If you want all kinds of luck, go east or west. Overall, east, west, south, southeast, southwest - the lucky stars move in these directions."

"So do not go to the north, northeast, or northwest.

"And Angela said.

"Right. You should do this too, for good luck. It's only the first day of Chinese New Year, though."

"It's not just for one day."

"Yes, Tuesday, the second day of the New Year. If you wish for good luck with money, go east. If you wish for all good tidings, go southwest."

"Wow, okay, so..."

"Wednesday, the third day of the New Year. If you wish for all good tidings, go south. If you wish for a master, go east."

"Is it the last day of the Chinese New Year?"

"Yes, there are three days left. If you can, I hope you will celebrate by eating right in Vietnam. Do not work on New Year's Day. Please tell my daughter so.

"I will tell your daughter," said Xuan's daughter's Los Angeles agent. After hanging up the phone, Suan went to find Trieu and told her what the Year of the Fire Monkey had in store for the Earth Dragon.

Excerpted from "Daughters of the New Year" by E.M. Tran. Copyright © 2022 E.M. Tran. Published by Hanover Square Press/Harper Collins. By arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A. (a division of HarperCollins).