Blood Heritage
Drew Grozier
|
Our Price: AUD$29.95 (USD$)*
|
|
Synopsis
Arthur of the Battles is dead. The Irish are building an empire on the bones of Britain, fighting the Picts, the Saxons, the Britons and any
other contender for the Islands.
Arthur's namesake, young Arthur mac Cenaidd, is bodyguard to Colum Cille, the warrior priest charged with establishing Celtic Christianity among the Caledonian Picts. On a
diplomatic mission with Colum, Arthur rescues a young girl from the grips of a monster. Not a monster of myth and legend, but a human monster.
Ingrid, the rescued slave girl, is beautiful, cruel and ambitious, and she pushes Arthur up the greasy pole of success. Soon they have everything to live for, however,
someone close to them wants them both dead.
Set against a backdrop of historical conflict and romance, Blood Heritage is a tale of how legends grow from the seeds of reality.
About The Author
Drew Grozier is a freelance journalist. He has worked for APN News Ltd in Queensland on the South Burnett Times and the Warwick Daily
News as a casual journalist, and with the Toowoomba Mail as an advertising consultant. He has also had travel articles published in the Brisbane Sunday Sun
and The Clifton Courier, and has been writing full-length fiction and non-fiction books since January 2006.
Blood Heritage and its forthcoming sequel Blood Armour are two full-length works of historical fiction written around the legends of the 6th Century Arthur of
the Battles.
Drew returned to live in his native Scotland to research his books, and now lives in Toowoomba, Queensland, where he is a member of the Queensland Writers Centre and Clifton
Writers.
From The Book
Inge cowered in the corner of the turf cabin clutching her bairn to her breasts. The black knight stood before her, holding her husband in one
mailed fist and a screaming bundle in the other.
'Is your woman suckling?'
The small man could only nod in reply for his tunic was so bunched around his throat that his face began turning blue in the suffocating grip. He was released, and fell on
the earth floor. The tall man held out the bundle to the woman.
'Feed this thing.'
She took the child to her breast, giving it the nipple, never taking her eyes off the spectre of death before her; a thin face, framed with lank grey hair; a thin cruel mouth
below a thick moustache, and although a young man, fatigue had scored age lines down his cheeks and underlined his dark eyes in black. He was dressed in black chain mail, red
with rust and blood, a long-sword hung from his belt...
He addressed the woman, who was comfortably feeding two babes, eyeing her large breasts with an interest she found unsettling...
'I'll sleep here tonight. Then I have to get back to Dunadd.'
Faelan indicated the raised turf sleeping platform, and with a nod of his head to his wife, said, 'We are honoured to have you here. You can have my bed, Lord.'
'And your wife,' thought Comgall.
|
