Showing posts with label treasure hunt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label treasure hunt. Show all posts

Monday, April 20, 2026

Matt Lincoln Presents Treasure Hunt - Crescent City Crimes Book 1 - An Interesting Display of Writing Issues...with thoughts...

 “Well,” I said, turning my head so I could give Lex a wicked grin. “If it’s a game she wants, then it’s a game she’ll get.” “What does that even mean?” Lex wondered, but I was too busy strutting away after my witty one-liner to answer.

Cal already had the pieces of the table spread out across the floor, everything else in the room shoved to the walls, and they sat in the center of the chaos, instruction booklet in hand as punk rock blasted from the Bluetooth speaker.

Josephine Simms slammed the door to her house. There were tears in her eyes that made the whole room blurry, but she hardly wobbled on her stilettos as she stalked across the room toward the bar she and her husband kept by the fireplace. She wanted to smash one of those fine crystal glasses, but she wouldn’t do that. People of her station simply didn’t go around throwing things at walls, no matter how badly they might want to. She poured herself a glass and downed it in one gulp, though the world was already swimming from the drinks she’d had at Marcus’s work function. Where she’d left him. She ran out that door like she was a jilted girl at a school dance, and she was appalled by herself, though they’d been making such a scene that she simply had to get out of there. Marcus would come home once he’d calmed down, and they would have a civil conversation about this. There was no reason that this had to be unpleasant. Josephine poured herself another drink and brought it to her lips with a trembling hand. Once she’d drained the glass, she tipped it upside down and put it back on the table. No more. She’d had enough to drink for one night. She would take a bath, she decided. That would calm her down, and then she’d be in a better state to explain herself to Marcus when he returned. She pulled her satin shawl a little tighter around her shoulders and started for the grand staircase at the back of the living room. 
Before she’d gotten five steps, the front door slammed open, and a gust of night air blew into the room. “Josephine.” Josephine froze with one foot still in the air. Marcus’s voice was low and rough, still curdled by his anger, and she could feel the hot weight of his stare against the back of her neck. Josephine lowered her leg and slowly spun, moving as if Marcus were an animal she didn’t want to startle. He stood in the doorway, breathing heavily, his cheeks reddened by alcohol and the tears now drying to his face. His tie was loose, and there was a patch of dirt by the cuff of his suit coat. “Darling,” Josephine said, trying to keep her voice smooth and calm even as her heart jumped within her chest. “I didn’t think you’d be home so soon.” “You thought I’d just let it go, did you?” Marcus sneered. He stepped further into the house and swung the door shut behind him. The thud as it hit the wooden frame made Josephine jump. “I’ve let a lot of things go over the years, but not this one. Not this time. How could you do that to me, Josephine? I love you.” “And I love you, darling,” Josephine promised. She smiled at him, spreading her hands in front of her, offering comfort. “Stop calling me darling,” Marcus growled. He stalked toward her, each step so hard and purposeful that she thought they would leave marks on the floor. She heard something thump upstairs but barely registered it, more concerned by her husband’s anger. She could fix it, though. She could always fix it. “Marcus, I’m sorry, but I thought we’d talked about this. We agreed to have freedom in our relationship--” “Freedom to pursue our own hobbies and friends, not sleep with the first hot young thing to cross your path!” Marcus bellowed, cutting her off. Josephine quailed, drawing in on herself and holding her shawl close, hoping Marcus would see how he was scaring her, but his anger had overridden all else, and his bloodshot eyes were fierce within his reddened face. “Calm down,” she said as she began to back away from him. “I’m not going to have this conversation with you while you're like this.” She could regain control of this situation again. She had to. 
She heard another noise from upstairs, some kind of scuffing sound like something was being dragged across the carpet, and she frowned, distracted even with Marcus still walking inexorably toward her. “Did you hear that?” she asked him. “I think there’s someone in our house.” “Don’t try to change the subject,” he said. “Have I not given you everything I have, Josephine? Have I not loved you enough? Am I not enough for you?” “Of course you’re enough for me, darling,” Josephine said soothingly, but that was the wrong thing to say. His eyes flashed dangerously, and she backpedaled. “It’s not a matter of enough. I love you with all my heart, I promise you I do, but I needed something different, too. Not more, not better, just different.” “I don’t understand.” Marcus’s voice cracked, and some of his anger washed away, replaced by growing despair. “I don’t understand.” She stepped toward him, no longer retreating, holding her hands out to him as if in supplication, begging him to listen with her eyes. His steps stuttered, and his advance slowed, and he was finally looking at her with something other than rage. Josephine smiled at him, the coy, playful one that she knew he liked. 
The stairs behind them creaked. She spun around. She’d heard something for sure this time, and she had to see. A figure in black stood halfway down the staircase, freezing when they realized they’d been seen. Josephine pointed, whipping her head back toward Marcus to make sure he’d spotted the intruder, too. The stairs creaked again. The intruder was coming toward them. They had to do something, had to stop this interloper. Josephine turned back toward the stairs and started to move, glancing back over her shoulder to make sure that Marcus was still with her. The three of them were moving toward each other. Josephine kept looking back and forth between the intruder and her husband, wanting to keep them both in sight, and her head swam from her quick movement and all the alcohol still in her system. The room had gone blurry again, but she wouldn’t let that stop her. How dare this person break into her home? It simply could not stand. Something cracked against the back of her head. The world fuzzed black like a television screen losing signal. Josephine felt her knees buckle. It was the last thing she ever felt. She didn’t even have time for a final, fleeting thought.
~~~~


This book begins a new series for Matt Lincoln--one that presented several interesting issues that I found  distracting. Was it on purpose? Or am I too involved in the books that I read, that I notice "issues" often? I don't have an answer, so I tend to use support to document my emotional responses when the author has written something that distracts me from the story.

First, I want to say that this is a fun book that most of you will enjoy if distractions don't pull you away from your reading. The book begins with a murder. I was 99% positive that I could predict what happened before the book was over. At that time I was 100% correct. But at least the author chose "Crimes" as his subtitle as opposed to mystery, because, this certainly didn't provide a mystery to ponder... 

Moving forward, we begin to meet the characters that have thus far been hired into a new government office. MBLIS - Military Border Liaison Investigative Services. Every reader or movie watcher has gotten use to confronting organizations that are identified with the use of cap letters... This created name seemed just a bit much don't you think. M-B-L-I-S is extremely difficult to spit out as part of an introduction. Going with MBliss is a natural choice. But, seriously, folks, would you want to try to explain that you work for M-Bliss? A new governmental unit? I began to wonder whether sarcasm was being used by the author...

Introductions of this new unit was immediately provided to the local police, even though the unit's location was still in construction, with no furniture, etc. But once the offer was made to the police chief, he soon took advantage and turned over the murder of a local woman, which included a very valuable piece of jewelry being stolen. This began a number of heists with the same MO... 

The thing is that even the new staff had never met each other, including the head of the office. And, of course, friction began as each of the individuals acted based on their former job. One former FBI agent, who becomes the main character, was given a former cop to be his partner. Tension began between the two almost immediately.  Another federal employee from another unit was also assigned to MBlis, and a new tech individual was hired for the new unit. Let's just say that it took a while for each of the employees to begin to feel comfortable in their new roles with new people...

One of them even caused me a major distraction. And required that I do a little research about specifics, even though I had known of language changes being adopted through recent years... I found an adequate overview at en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Singularthey... 

I remember most of the rules that affected the English Language being taught when I was still in high school. I had never had any problem with accepting a basic rule, even if I didn't totally agree that the rule made sense. You know what I mean... If you don't know the sex of an individual then use the masculine form of the word. Of course, I began to see that sometimes you could tell it was a female because of the sentence, so the rule didn't really make sense... Still I went by the rules...

In this book, however, we have a known character, named Cal. Yes, it could be either a male or female. But the book clarifies that the individual has chosen pronouns of they/them. That means that the author specifically chose to complicate this book. Why? Let's take a look at the introduction of the new tech employee:

“Cal Vidal is our sole lab tech for the moment, though hopefully, we’ll find someone else to join them soon.” Cal gave me a jaunty little wave when Rachel said their name and then went back to flicking through something on a sleek, silver tablet, a lock of black hair falling into their pointy face as a white bud dangled from one ear. They looked like they were barely out of school and dressed in jeans and a t-shirt like they were out with friends rather than at an office. A fresh, floral pattern tattoo stood out against their light brown skin, the space around the lines still just a little red.

Folks, I hope by now you have a fair assessment of whether I am prejudice. I have read books by anybody and rarely, if ever, commented, except for reference, noted the sexuality preference of any character or author. So, when I say that I believe the decision to use a singular "they" is not only wrong, it is crazy and makes further grammatical errors mandated for this!

Look carefully at the sample introduction above. In fact, what has occurred is that by choosing a word that is defined for multiple people/characters, it has NOT at the same time mandated synchronization... Take a look at: They looked like they were barely out of school and dressed in jeans and a t-shirt like they were out with friends rather than at an office. By accepting a singular they, but not also changing the comparable verb or adjective, readers are left with total confusion... My tongue was trained--my mind was trained to match the subject with every other word in a sentence. That is no longer the case when singular they is accepted.

It is not my intent to get into the psychological aspect of HOW an individual has the right to proclaim why they choose to not be PLACED by sex. I have no other option for those individuals, EXCEPT to create an entirely new word for that person. For instance, we know of at least one word, Androgyny, which identifies some variation in sexuality. Transsexual is another word that has caused much disagreement but, still, is a new word that describes a different individual for some reason.

It is also not my intent to interfere with medical reasons to know the difference between he and she...

But I do disagree that social culture of any sort should be adjusted so that an entire language can be corrupted by such a decision.

Was this done purposely supporting the rationale? Or was it a form of sarcasm by the writer? Readers have NO idea. And, that, my fellow book readers, creates an unwanted distraction that does harm, in my opinion, in readers trying to get to know the individual who claims to be "they." while fumbling through the sentence that the one individual is sitting in the middle of a room and calling them a they. It should be noted that the author provided no comments in introducing this character into his book other than to say to another new employee who mistakenly called Cal him, that the preference was for they... 

I have learned that American English is an extremely hard language to learn for those speaking another language and trying to learn our language. We need to think through the ramifications of what one change can make in trying to adjust to a grammatically incorrect use...of...just...one...word!

And then there was the absolute worse mistake a writer can make, in my opinion, in this book... Releasing the name of the villain! 

The only salvation to this was that, later, the villain became a known named character... But that first sight of a new name not previously shared in the book--undoubtedly that of the criminal--was devastating. To me this is an immediate awareness that proper proofreading of the book had not occurred. The book had not received a final content edit...

“Agent Greyson!” someone called from down below. I thought maybe it was Barrett, but I didn’t have time to parse it out fully. Haddow’s body tensed, preparing for motion, but I couldn’t quite tell what she was going to do, where she was going to go, so I tried to ready myself for anything. She shot right toward me, and I got ready to snatch her arm, but at the last second, she spun around me, my fingers narrowly missing her tight sleeve, and then she raced for the edge of the roof. I twisted, feet digging into the stone as I tried to pick up enough speed to stop her before she did whatever she had planned. The thief planted one foot on the ledge ringing the roof and flung herself into the air, arms wind-milling as she aimed for the adjacent building. Surely, it was too far, I thought, as I watched her fly. But amazingly, her feet slammed down, and she turned the landing into a roll, popping back to her feet in one smooth motion. It was the stupid tree all over again, and this time, I wouldn’t falter. I ran faster, just a few feet between me and that ledge, and I steeled myself for the jump, well aware that the thief had stopped to watch me. At the last second, my feet dug into the roof, and I skidded to a stop, slapping my hands down on the ledge to check my forward momentum, heart jack-hammering in my ribs. I almost pitched right off the roof, but I planted a foot against the low wall and managed to drag myself to a stop. I panted as I crouched there, hands trembling, and when I looked up, the thief was smirking at me from the other roof, confidence flooding through her body. “So close,” she said. “Oh, so close.” “I will catch you,” I said, though my tough demeanor was somewhat ruined by the fact that I had flaked out at the last moment and was now breathing rather heavily.

I included the above excerpt to not only reveal that mistake, but to also share just how much the thief "controlled" this book. In fact, it was indeed clear right from the beginning that she was challenging the lead investigator to recognize that it really was a game that she was playing--almost a female Robin Hood, but who at least in his book, actually kept what she stole! LOL... 

I consider this an opinion piece more than a review of the book. It seems to me that the United States has gone too far in one way. Specifically, just as we discovered with the Covid Pandemic, and, now, with the measles once again spreading, that many of our citizens have turned away from thinking, first, about all Americans and for the overall good of America, and rather, have chosen to think their opinion or desires are more important than the nation as a whole. 

At the same time, I recognize that many who fight for justice are doing so because they have been physically, mentally, or emotionally abused by others to the extent that they have chosen to fight to be recognized as "special" in some way. To me, we should ensure all have similar rights, rather than pick out ways in which we can punish somebody for being different from the way You think they should be... I don't think anybody can now not realize what has happened to the United States since 2015 and, even worse, at present. 

You know, folks, in many ways, I have learned more about the lives of All people around the world thanks to Donald J. Trump... More specifically, I have learned more about just how cruel, selfish, and hateful some people can and have become. I grew up in a small town, and even when I started working and began to meet people who were in some way different from me, I had no thought of thinking that they should be "more like me..." In fact, when the issue of separation of Church and State began to change things, I at first voted No not to have stores open on Sunday. Then I began to think, really think, about what I was agreeing to. I thought about the times that my sister worked on Sundays at a nursing home and that there were many who had to work on Sundays as required for supporting those who needed help that day and every day. I had begun to think beyond my own personal situation as I began to work... 

I have also learned through my career that people could be treated differently due to policies and procedures, rules and regulations, but also due to power of a few versus consideration for priorities from an overall perspective. But nothing could have prepared me for what has been done to our country beginning in 2015 and which has gotten worse, stopping briefly, only during the years of Biden's presidency.

For the first time, I've known deeply just why Jesus gave His life for all creations... With free will, we were allowed to choose how we would treat others... For many of us, there didn't seem to be an issue before. But once we saw how one man via a nearly 1000-page report started working against anybody and everybody for whatever reasons a few people wanted to have things changed so that power and riches could be gained, I discovered in me an almost obsessive need to ensure that all people be considered in relation to the whole. And that something that a few individuals might want or prefer must be overridden for the good of the many... That...is...democracy as it works for a nation...

Knowing that the few people who want to be considered outside of a basic coding system; i.e., those who decide they don't want to be looked at as male or female, for whatever reason, may need to reconsider--or--be prepared with a plan that does not immediately affect the millions of other people. I fought all the way to the State with what was happening to me on the campus. But when the turmoil created appeared to be useless, in my case, I chose to withdraw and retire early. It did not affect anybody else and, in the end, my decision though difficult, was exactly what I should have done for my own well-being.

In turn, I've chosen a way to give back to people all over the world, by reading, reviewing and sharing my thoughts to those who have benefited from my time and support. In my opinion, we must work to ensure that we do not protest on behalf of our own desires to be recognized to the detriment of others... Rather, we have been shown by all that has brought millions and millions of people speaking out against a government that is no longer by the people, for the people, that we must work to support not only our own needs but those needs of all people, trying, insofar as possible to respond to everybody or to explain to each individual how or why their needs must be denied for the benefit of the whole. It is not easy to do. And our government must be prepared to make hard and non-partisan decisions to ensure the good of the whole country is indeed what they are working for. May God help us to find the strength to recognize that all that we might want cannot be achieved until all at least have basic needs of food, shelter, and a path forward...

The United States has come too far to ever consider moving backward--losing or rejecting achievements--that others are against for personal reasons. Yes, we must learn to balance our own desires and needs within a community--a nation--that ensures that all people are treated (respected) equally in today's world. Right now, that attempt to denigrate millions by a small minority is causing some of the worst changes ever seen--mostly for no sound political reason.

The star character, doing all the thefts, is an amazing character. Kudos for her. But you'll have to decide just how close to word selection means to you... I'll be giving on those sites requiring a rank, 3 out of 5... 

GABixlerReviews

Thursday, December 11, 2014

The Secret Price of History--Epic Historical Adventure Novel Just Out from Dante University Press


"Tell me, Maria. What's happening?"
"An Execution."
 "Who is it?"
" A boy from a poor family. He's very handsome, they say. But he won't make his confession. No bells this morning--didn't you notice, maestro? Now they have to wait till the Ave Maria at sunset." 


She shrugged. "They'll kill him then even if he hasn't confessed."
"Ho ho, Madonna, Maestro, the boy has a sweetheart. A rich noble girl, Maestro. But one day a big important priest saw her and, Jesu, he wanted her. And you know what, Maestro? She refused him."
"Of course."
"Of course," Maria mimicked him under her breath, then giving in to her impatient nature; she took the fruit basket off her head, set it on the floor, and plopped down next to it. So we're taking a break, he thought. He went over to sit on the small settee he kept in the studio for his visitors. What do you know about Rome?" Maria chided. "As far as I can see you only paint pictures of poor people. We're talking about the rich. The boy shot a priest. And this priest is very important and influential. Some people say he's the Pope's nephew."
"Did he kill him?""She dismissed his question with a wave of her hand. "Who knows? He stole a pistol and fired it. Whether the priest dies or not, you get put to death for that. Then the magistrate found out that the boy was part of the Republican movement, and that meant the boy would get drawn and quartered as well."
"Such barbarism." Freeman shook his head. "Didn't somebody, perhaps the girl's family, try to intervene?"Maris made incredulous eyes at him...
~~~

  
"And here he comes now, Mr. Freeman look to your left at the heftiest man in your field of vision.

That's Mastro Titta, the executioner crossing the square on that wagon. We'd best follow along--

the guillotine is set up two blocks from here...

The boy kneeled down so promptly that it was heartbreaking. His neck was fitted into 

a hole in a cross plank. 

Below him was a leather bag. The silver blade sheet fell, and into it 

his head rolled instantly like a melon. 

His sweetheart on her balcony shouted incomprehensible words. Despite the serpent 
coil of six arms she managed a half-rise, enough to launch her spit. 
The executioner held up the boy's head by the hair.
After a minute, he paraded with it round the scaffold. The eyes were turned to one side. In the
direction of the balcony, Freeman was sure. The face was already dull wax....
There was no manifestation of disgust or pity in the people around Freeman. None of the
indignation he expected either. They were quiet--that was all that could be said for them--
and many had their mouths open...
Freeman felt exactly how Dickens had said he would. His horror was paralyzing. 
He wondered where the writer was and what words he was finding for this moment. 
Next to him, a woman pointed out to her neighbor
that the staring, shouting girl on the balcony was being pulled by her shoulders back 
through the French doors...
~~

The Secret Price of History
By Gayle Ridinger
Paolo Pochettino

At just under 600 pages, this novel is a monumental tale that moves through time, roaming from the 1800s through to the present decade. The rich abundance of history, however, surrounds one object--a gold medallion. Flashbacks historically carries the readers to what was happening at the time and how the medallion was first discovered... The majority of the treasure hunt adventure takes place in the immediate past, once it is known that the medallion has been with a family for years and is now known as priceless, and attached...to great treasures!

Bassignana
I was quickly caught up in two groups of
characters. First the individuals in the 1850s when much war and turmoil was taking place with Garibaldi being the center of most as they fought for Italian unification. Enter a young man, Sandor, who is looking to join up with Garibaldi and comes into a small town, starving and trying to find his way forward. He meets Goffredo, a cheesemaker who hides him, feeds him and slowly becomes close as friends. Goffredo decides to join Sandor and readers join in their difficulties trying to find just exactly where Garibaldi was.




Now during this time, an American artist is also there, who spent most of his time, showing the devastation of the people through his work. It is Maria, his model, his sits for his painting, "An Italian Beggar Girl," and who tells him much of what is

happening and especially when an execution is scheduled. 

James Freeman had thought to go and sketch the people who would undoubtedly be collecting, one of which happens to be the writer Dickens, who quickly greets him but moves to get away from what is happening, noting that he soon will too. James had attempted to sketch, but soon was so caught up in the horror of what was happening that he was caught, becoming emotionally involved. It was this scene that also caught me, making me think that this, then, was a major reason for the war, the people joining to fight...


July 5, 2008
We can't quite believe that others may covet some
small thing we own. We might realize they are
envious of our lifestyle, our spouse, bank accounts
good looks, career, well-brought-up kids, pleasant
personality, resourcefulness, solid faith in something
bigger...but envious to the point of obsession with
some little object we possess? With such
determination to have it that they might try to
kill us?
...No, there is something strange going on.
Something twenty-one-year-old Angie Cebrelli
isn't aware of as she crosses the sunny field
to the grandstand filled with people waiting
to watch the Gettysburg Civil War battle
re-enactment. When she asks one of the men
wearing a baseball cap if the place next to him
is taken, he moves his big butt a few more
inches towards his child. She sees his eyes go
to her breasts under her tank top--the same
thing happened with some jerk at lunch.
When the man obligingly swings his little boy
up on his lap to make still more room, Angie
feels a small foot kick her kneecap. A pudgy
hand reaches towards her neck piece. "No,
honey," she mouths at the toddler with a smile.
~~~
While Freeman was active in helping individuals escape from Italy, the main reason I wanted to include him was to share his painting, "The Princess Prattles With Her Parrot," which is the girl upon which the character, Eleanore, was based... She is also the rich girl, who was raped by the priest and whose lover was just hung...

...“As you may know, this painting is entitled “The Princess Prattles to her Parrot.” I personally like the parrot more. We know the painting was inspired by Read’s poem about a poet in an oppressed land. But if, as you say, Freeman knows Garibaldi—.”
“Even Mama knows him.”
“I do,” said Margaret. “The red ribbon in her hair, the green parrot, the white nightgown slipping down one shoulder. The colors of the Italian flag.”
Frances Carter Wilder blinked in surprise. “Yes,” she admitted, stepping closer to the frame, as suddenly behind her, the girl’s mother—Garibaldi’s supposed friend and correspondent—said, “I am that princess.”
Frances Carter Wilder straightened up.
So that’s it, she thought.
“Mama still….Mama still rather looks like her, doesn’t she?” said Margaret, embarrassed.
!!!
Note: This quote was located quite late in the book, but I thought illustrated how quietly a treasure had been retained by a family, who had once known and participated in a war, but then quietly moved on in their lives..


Eleonora was a nurse at the time she met Sandor and Goffredo. Both men fell in love with her. And Eleonora loved the both of them as well, one more than the other but they spent many hours together as a threesome and so on that fateful day that a small velvet bag came into their possession, they shared the excitement and mystery and each one retained one piece of what it contained. Initially Sandor wore the medallion, so readers will find the amazing story through which it finally reached Eleonora in America quite fascinating, as well as historically significant.

It is hard to break away from that time period, but now we must at least meet the young woman who had begun to wear the medallion early in this decade. Angie Cebrelli is the great-granddaughter of Eleonora. Her mother Margaret had a rough time during her life, but she had hidden that velvet bag away, not to be touched until her daughter became interested in it. 

The break between historical times and the present are clear, with readers immediately moving into a contemporary setting totally recognizable... Angie has landed a job, for now, as a TV weather girl. She hopes to move up quickly. In the meantime, she had taken a chance and began to dress up as live characters from history to do her report. Her first event was on the birthday of Joan of Arc and next Fred Astaire... Then she decided to be even more dramatic when, on July 3rd, she had dressed as a Civil War soldier...but... she was dressed as her great-great-great-grandfather...



The cap was all right
but Angie didn't like the
idea of appearing on TV
with glasses. "Isn't there
anything else?"
Her mother scrounged
further. "There're these
tweezers with a little
Italian flag stuck on them,
and a vial of dried dark
stuff."
...Then she set the gold
medallion on top of the
pile. It was the size of a
small peach or a largist
swimming metal, and it
had a lion-man creature
and a radiating sun symbol
engraved on it...
!!!
Showers tomorrow folks. A far cry from the hot sunny weather on this day back in 1863. Does that date, July 3rd, tell you anything about who I am tonight? Does this red jacket from an old family suitcase give you any clue? If you guessed I'm a Civil War soldier, even though I'm dressed in red, you're right. I'm my great-great-great-grandfather, a member of the Italian regiment called the Garibaldi Guards, who found at Gettysburg. And I got to wondering-how many of you folks at home also had ancestors who fought in the Civil War, or even a more recent conflict, and wonder what it was like? Write to our website and tell us a battle they were in, and I'll help you out in that regard. I'll send back word on the weather than day...

[pic is actually of Garibaldi, who passed out the shirts in Italy!]

Angie quickly gained fame and also started a blog which supplemented and shared what her history lessons were. She announced she was heading for Gettysburg for a re-enactment. She planned to wear the shirt, the hat...but she needed something else... she would wear the medallion!

That was when the first assault happened...

Individuals who are interested in the treasure are coming from every direction! There are others, however, who have been involved with historical research as a part of their life


Ostia Antica - Mithraeum of the Seven Doors

interests. Damien was the most well-known and as Angie traveled, she ultimately did get the chance to meet with him. But deaths preceded that and also followed that meeting.

Once the first death occurred, the police became involved of course. One officer, somewhat of a rebel in following the rules was soon hooked up with Angie not only because of his case, but because he soon became interested in her (of course, there has to be a bit of romance to lighten the story, right?" The interesting part about the victim was that he was a married priest; and already had enemies because of his role in an advocacy group trying to gain approval for priests to marry! Also of interest was the financial reason submitted for having the rule first put in place.

The key difference between this treasure hunt and most we've enjoyed on television is the historical information included. Readers get involved with the early start of the Catholic Church and also in the present time, for instance. Then there are the reviews of the research and how it fits in with reality and potential options. There is no map and Damien's research is "active," meaning that he's piecing the pieces together each time something happens or another location is discovered. The search also leads into research and interaction with at least three sects or cults, with some playing main characters, including a delightful young Sikh boy who first stands up against evil men and then helps Angie and the officer, Dardanoni...find important evidence that helps to lead to Damien...who has by that time been kidnapped!

You want action and adventure, you got it! You want to historically track what happened with treasure that Alexander the Great accumulated during his leadership. It's here! We even have Bonaparte III playing a role in that later search! There appears to be a balance of historical data to the crime search that takes place in the present, so, please, plan on spending time with this novel! It moves from action to historical references and is not a book that slowly turns into a page-turner. Rather, it is a close look from the viewpoint of families who joined Garibaldi and happened to pick up a "little treasure" of that time period through generations of family passing what they now considered theirs on to the next generation...Only to discover nobody agreed that it belonged to that family! The history is clear: those who founght for solidarity in the Italian Risorgimento and later also fought in the Civil War! The drama is exceptionally well done and documented. Note that extensive information and pictures of those involved can be found on The Secret Price of History site! The site itself is a true learning experience and should be enjoyed along with your reading to enhance the activity. History Lovers, do check this one out! A truly impressive, brilliantly created literary masterpiece. And, BTW, a thoroughly satisfactory ending!


GABixlerReviews




Gayle Ridinger was born in the United States in 1957 and graduated from Oberlin College in 1979. She was a newspaper reporter for two years before moving to Milan, Italy in 1981. Since 1987 she has taught English and translation techniques at an Italian university. For the bilingual anthology,ITALIAN POETRY 1950-1990 (Dante University Press,1996), which she translated and co-edited with Gian Paolo Renello, she received the “National Translation Prize” from the Italian Ministry of Culture in 1997. In 2001, she received a grant from the Raiziss-DePalchi Foundation (Academy of American Poets) in New York to complete her translation of SHAVINGS, prose poems by Camillo Sbarbaro (Chelsea Editions, New York, 2006). In 2003, she was named Knight of the Star Order of Italian Solidarity (Cavaliere dell’Ordine della Stella della Solidarità Italiana) by Italian President Carlo Azeglio Ciampi. Her children’s book, A STAR AT THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA, was published in 2001 in Italian (Edizioni Arka), and subsequently in Greek, Chinese, Korean, Arabic, and English (Gareth Stevens-USA). Her novel THE SHADOW WIFE, a tale of twin sisters who find strange ways of ‘helping’ each other, is available on Amazon.

Born in Milan, Italy in 1949, Paolo Pochettino studied the Classics in high school, then obtained a degree in Mechanical Engineering. He has worked as a Technical and Production Manager for high-tech plastics companies in Italy and abroad (Netherlands, USA, Germany, France, India). A marathoner who is passionately fond of cinema and history, he has traveled the world, oftentimes in less than ideal conditions. He’s been through a hijacking in Pakistan, survived a couple of uprisings in Yemen and Sudan, and had thrilling close-up encounters with whales, gorillas, rhinos and lions. He’s also done a few other things that he has always wanted to do, like reaching the base camps of Mt. Everest and Kanchenjunga, hiking across Iceland, and mixing with Indian pilgrims on their way to the start of the Ganges.

Friday, July 16, 2010

Review: Pat Bertram's Daughter Am I Promises Great Weekend of Reading!

Pot of GoldImage by tao_zhyn via Flickr
Daughter Am I

By Pat Bertram


Second Wind Publishing
ISBN: 978-1935171195
304 Pages


Daughter Am II had just finished reading the new humorous book about aging by Jeanne Kraus when I turned to read Daughter Am I by Pat Bertram. With the frame of mind started by Jeanne, I have to say that I was totally prepared to enjoy Daughter Am I! First I thought it reminded me of The Wizard of Oz as the main character began picking up new friends along her way, but by then, I was totally hooked!

The story created by Pat Bertram is a well-written unique novel that is fun, encouraging, compassionate, as well as a laid-back adventure that led to looking for gold! Laid-back, you question? Welllll, most of the group are "elders" as described by the main character, Mary Stuart, so the health of each one had to be considered while all of the clues were found and put together. Sit back, while I tell you more...

Mary Stuart had just received word that she had inherited the estate of James and Regina Stuart. When she questioned this, she discovered that they were her grandparents! Her father had been estranged from them for years and had lied to Mary, saying they were dead.

Then she was even more shocked to learn that they had been murdered! And their house had been ransacked as if somebody was searching for something.

Mary was a quiet woman who normally didn't get too involved in dissension, but, she couldn't let this pass. She had to find out about two grandparents she had not had the opportunity to know! So she set off alone to find out more about them! And winds up looking for gold!

As soon as Mary announced to her family that she had inherited the farm, Bill, her assumed fiance, decided that it should be sold so that they could get married and make a down payment on their home. Then he tagged along when Mary went to see her inheritance, immediately calling it a dump--not endearing himself to Mary who was still upset for never knowing about them.

Finding an address book, Mary decides to find friends who knew her grandparents, to learn about them, trying to get to know them through their eyes. Her first contact was with someone who had done business with her grandfather who was a gunsmith.

Let me stop here and explain that the characters Mary meets drive this book--there is no way to adequately describe how, when and where she meets these individuals. So, for expediency, I will highlight that all of these individuals have a criminal background--one's a con man, one is a forger, one is even a hit man, etc., but Mary is the type of woman that accepts people as they are and cares about them and they respond to her. All of them have been living alone, some with little ability to buy food, yet she talks each of them into sharing whatever they know (even if it is a little bit at a time until they trust her) and she is able to proceed somewhere else to talk to somebody else. Soon, Mary realizes that she wants to find out why and who actually murdered her grandparents, especially after she discovers that their son (her cousin who she had also never known about) and his family were also murdered!

What's fun for the readers is that each new elder she meets decides, or is invited, to come along on Mary's journey. Mary soon finds out that those in her group have not necessarily given up their past activities. She is horrified, for instance, to discover at one point she is driving a stolen bus! (But they did need the extra space for the growing number of travelers...)

And then, at one stop, she meets a man about her own age, who takes an interest in everything that's happening and then later explains that he has part of the story and clues! Soon Many is so interested in him that she even forgets who Bill is!

Bertram has included quite a bit of history regarding the mafia, the use of gold coins in our early American history, and highlights much about guns used during the period, lending credibility and a breadth to the novel that greatly adds to the storyline. The ending is fantastic in my opinion--in fact, I loved the book! There is much for baby boomers to enjoy, but, the adventurous journey of a busload of elders and two young people falling in love really is one I'd highly recommend to a general audience. Enjoyment of a true treasure hunt is waiting for you in Daughter Am I by Pat Bertram! But gold isn't necessarily the treasure...

Book Acquired Via
Facebook Reviewers Roundup

G. A. Bixler




Enhanced by Zemanta