What Remains: Coffee Pot Book Club Blog Tour.
What Remains
What Remains is a haunting dual-timeline mystery that bridges centuries-and secrets-between ancient Rome and the modern world.
Forensic anthropologist Tori Benino has just landed the opportunity of a lifetime: leading a dig at a long-buried Roman village lost to the eruption of Vesuvius. But when she uncovers the remains of a Praetorian guard hidden in an ancient latrine-clearly murdered-Tori realizes she’s stumbled onto something far more sinister than a routine excavation. As she digs deeper into the past, her own carefully ordered life begins to fall apart.
Nearly two thousand years earlier, Thalia, the daughter of a wealthy merchant, is desperate to escape an arranged marriage to a brutal and politically powerful senator. Her only hope lies with a Praetorian soldier assigned to guard her-but trusting him could cost her everything.
As past and present collide, What Remains asks: When history is buried, what truths refuse to stay hidden?
Perfect for fans of Kathy Reichs and Kate Quinn, this novel is inspired by true events and delivers a compelling blend of suspense, history, and heart.
Author Links:
Excerpt.
His gaze was so intense that I hesitated, before remembering the beads in my satchel. My hand went to my knapsack and I rustled through it, one-handed, locating the handkerchief I had wrapped them in. I brought it out and held it towards him. Al’Shani eyed the offering warily, reluctant to take it, so I unfolded the first layer of cloth, revealing the gleaming carnelian beads beneath. I saw the breath leave him and his fingers flex then clench. I placed the misbaha on the table between us and dropped my hands back into my lap, watching him intently. His eyes had taken on the liquid darkness I had noted in our earlier meeting. I took a sip of coffee to give him some measure of privacy for his thoughts.
Finally, he reached across and picked them up between finger and thumb, revolving his hand so they fell over his fingers and nestled in and around the palm of his hand, much like we had found them in his wife’s grip. He clenched his hand around them and closed his eyes, breathing deeply for a minute.
‘They were Elirё’s,’ he finally spoke, pronouncing the name differently from the way I had heard it in my head as I read it in the file. ‘They were my wife’s.’
‘I know,’ I spoke. ‘Elirё.’ I tried to capture his intonation. ‘It is a beautiful name.’
His smile was fleeting. ‘She was a beautiful woman.’ His gaze fastened on mine. ‘You knew they were hers.’
I nodded. I could hardly explain how intimately I was acquainted with the bones of his family.
Comments (1)