One Man's Secret Is Another Man’s Weapon
Loreticus, the brilliant spymaster of the young emperor, is well-armed with influence and power.
He has an army of spies under his command and he’s the one to know all the secrets of court.
But when his master goes missing, everything he knew to be true changes and leaves him
with no-one to trust.
On his quest to find the young emperor and reunite the country, he discovers a new underground
world of rebellion, crime, betrayal and ambition that turns his life upside down and brings to light
the truth about who’s really in power.
Loreticus has to make the final decision and choose between his principles and the new political
reality.
"Gripping, intelligent and rewarding."
"An excellent political thriller."
"Couldn't put it down!"
This compelling political thriller will keep you on the edge and make you thirsty to read more of this unique historical world.
J.B. Lucas’ debut novel creates the perfect parallel of ancient Rome and modern diplomacy that
will change the way you watch today's political chaos.
Based on Amazon alone: Reached #15 in the thriller category, but has settled down at 10-20 sales per day before my larger advertising campaigns later this year.Most sales are from the US and UK, but 10% are made up of German or other European markets.
No sales data from Ingram's as they are notoriously slow to report.
Loreticus sat in front of a stiffened corpse. Despite his fearsome reputation, death and violence were infrequent tools in Loreticus’s bag. He left the greater bloodshed to the warlords like Marcan and Antron, who revelled like harvesters in an autumn field. The vision in front of him was so horrific, he had been warned to come alone and he appreciated the advice now. Pello would have fainted.
The body had been beaten thoroughly. Twelve stabs across the torso, but the violence was most evident in the damage to the head and face.
“My theory is that they were trying to hide his identity,” stated the physician, wax blocking his snoutish nose. “They totally destroyed his face. And they didn’t kill him with the first few stabs when perhaps they could have done.”
“Twelve stabs, Sempus. Twelve. I’d say either the attacker couldn’t get close enough or the dead man was wearing armour.”
“Um, yes, true. A well-brought-up grown man. Nice teeth, decent height, kept in rude health. Very few scars.”
“Could it be anyone we know?”
“If you’re asking, dear Loreticus, whether this is the body of Marcan, I have no idea,” Sempus stated. He had obviously been hoping to avoid that response. “This corpse belonged to someone important, but I don’t know who.”
Much as Loreticus liked the physician, he found his penchant for drama in his work a little disturbing.
| Language | Status |
|---|---|
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Spanish
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Translation in progress.
Translated by Wilfredo Villegas
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