Gregory
Bellarmine is the author of the bestselling Monthly Roman Breviary. He lives a
happy though sometimes sleepless life in the UK with his wife, two children and
rather cheeky Parson Russell Terrier.
Blurb:
Italy.
A tough master of novices, Father Dante encounters the bold young priest
Antonio who challenges his identity and accuses him of being the Saint
Nicholas. But despite the Father faking his death, a determined Antonio
discovers a rather alive Dante arrayed in kilt and armor.
In
return for Antonio’s silence—and to protect the town from attracting all manner
of darkness—Dante agrees to tell his life story. Without explanation, Dante
orders Antonio to meet him at night in the abandoned Cathedral, the site of a
former battle that the Church has kept secret for a generation.
Until
today.
The
Criskindl. Ice Steeds. The Unborn. Saint.
From
the Dark Ages’ when Poet-Sorcerers ruled kings, to the Holy Land when a new
civilization was rising, to Revolutionary France where love is lost and gained,
Father Dante pursues the one responsible for both his master and his mother’s
deaths: Black Peter, his brother.
Excerpt:
From effulgent smoke came forth a dark man of such height
that his head grazed the broken frame. Straight jet hair fell to his narrow
waist, and from each hip hung a curved, empty scabbard. The flaming scimitars
crackled in his gauntleted fists.
Liquid fire burned in eyes that rejected fear. Garbed in
shades of black, from hose and metal gloves to chest armor, the intruder moved
forward like a shadow stealing across a barren heath. He hovered a dangerous
pace from the midwife. And when he spoke, though his breath had the scent of
lilacs his voice had the timbre of fine-tuned rage:
"I thank you graceful Lady for your months of natal
torture, and I do hope that in time you forgive what will surely cause you
terrible grief." His fiery stare fell on the child cradled in the
midwife's arms. "I can't tell you how happy I am to see you again. The
husk is different." He sniffed the air. "But the vapors, they're
yours."
The midwife shook her head, rose from her stool, and fished
inside her skirt pockets. Swiftly the intruder brought down one of his
scimitars to sever the umbilical cord.
Where to BUY: Amazon.com
Kindle
“The Blood
That Cries in the Ground will grab the reader by the throat with a death grip
from which it is impossible to break free.” -Reviewed by Bil Howard for
Readers' Favorite
Link to the
full review: http://readersfavorite.com/book-review/13394
