The Rome Prophecy
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Ex-priest Tom Shaman (The Venice Conspiracy) returns in a pulse-pounding, blazingly paced new adventure perfect for fans of Dan Brown and Sam Bourne.
A woman has been arrested in the streets of Rome. She's young. She's beautiful. She's covered in blood. And she claims to be an ancient prophet in search of a mystical amulet hidden somewhere within the city.
Ex-priest Tom Shaman teams up with a headstrong policewoman to unravel the mystery. But within Rome's churches and corridors of power, stealthy enemies are conspiring against them. And soon the woman's deadly visions begin to come true . . .
Jon Trace is the pseudonym for the Chief Creative Officer of one of the world's loargest global television production companies. Trace is also an internationally published thriller writer, an award-winning documentary maker, and creator of multimedia interactive games.
parties. Even opted for the same profession. Antonio was a lieutenant, working undercover on a drugs job when he was killed. Valentina couldn’t believe it. She tried to carry on working. Managed to see out the murder case she was on, and then her life collapsed. She fell into a huge depression, and had she not passed her exams and moved to Rome, she’s sure she’d still be trying to wriggle free from the teeth of the proverbial black dog. Valentina turns off the shower, steps out on to a frayed
standard anatomical drawing. Only now does she realise that the gaping wounds to the man’s head and stomach have drawn her attention away from something she would otherwise have instantly found fascinating. The man has no scrotum and no testicles. She looks closer. This isn’t a recent injury. In fact, it isn’t an injury at all. It’s been done very deliberately. Judging from the scars, there’s been a crude operation to castrate him. The deceased is a modern-day eunuch. 43 The
hoping for. She closes the door and squints at the mirror. When she puts her hand to her head, she feels several splinters of glass. Carefully she picks them out with her fingers, briefly inspects the sparkling fragments then washes them away. It takes several minutes to be sure her scalp is glass-free. She takes off her blouse and by twisting in front of the mirror she can see small slivers of smashed glass embedded in her spine. There’s also an angry red mark around her lower vertebrae where
corner supports a computer and printer, and there’s a long coffee table filled with magazines and leaflets about Rome. To his left, a thick red carpet flows down a marble staircase into the reception area. There are only two people working behind the high curved desk, hence the delay. Behind them, Tom sees the key slots and mail for a total of seventeen rooms. There are no frequent-visitor leaflets and nothing promoting other hotels across Italy or Europe. He guesses the place is probably
during times of crisis.’ ‘Such as?’ ‘Pretty much what you said: famine, pestilence in the agricultural areas, meteor showers, slave rebellions, invading armies, those kinds of things.’ ‘I’ve never heard of these books. Are you thinking that they somehow have a connection with Anna and all her alters?’ ‘We know there’s a connection to Cybele; it’s pretty likely that that extends to associated cults and the sibylline books or teachings.’ ‘I suppose these books are in Latin or Greek or