Second book of the Dagger Saga.
After the troubled journey which has brought him away from the world Beyond, Dagger awakens within the safe walls of the Fortress. But danger is far from gone. It no longer has the sinister appearance of a shadow searching for him in the wrecks of Melekesh, nor of a Tankar hunting him down in the bowels of the earth. Now the enemy comes from within. Internal conflict is tearing the Guardians apart, as war knocks at their door. What is the face of the nightmare no one dares to fight? What’s hidden in the ancient ruins of Adramelech, that seem to have a will of their own, manipulating and crushing the lives of those approaching to hear their whispers?
The saga is now complete and continues with Dagger 3 - God of Emptiness, or you can get Dagger - The Complete Saga, with extra content and a cheap price.
I'm one of the most important fantasy author in Italy thanks to this book, and I'm a long seler in the United States and UK too. This book alone has 340 reviews on amazon.it (4.1 average) 241 on the .com (4 stars average) and 225 on the .uk
I achieved these results by giving away the first book for free, so that readers could try it and fall in love with the story, buying the following four. It worked. My goal then is to have the whole saga translated into every possible language and to the same - first book free, full price for the rest - instead of selling one copy every month and be happy with it.
“Melt with a poem, oh Muse, the mud covering the skin of this tired man, the turbid pain that burdens his heart.”
The woman smiled at those words. Then she put her soft lips on the man’s crotch to play the notes of her melody.
Wearing only his cotton shirt, he brought the bottle to his mouth and took a long swallow. His gaze fell on the worn leather armor lying on the ground, covered with repairs that, battle after battle, had changed its original aspect. Love conquers all, he thought, mockingly. Love conquers all.
“Where are you, love of tonight?” the Muse asked.
The man glanced down. He was giving her the wrong impression that he was not appreciating the song of rare beauty she was playing for him that night. He drank again, as she began to climb with her soft kisses to his navel, the washboard abs and a chest shaped by years of continuous training, of which he was so fond. Then she finally met his lips wet with wine, as she began to rub her freshly shaved genitals on his belly.
“What’s wrong, love of tonight?”
“Stop calling me that!” he broke, pushing her aside. He sat on the edge of the bed, his bare feet on the rough wood. Softly, he added, “I’m sorry,” burying his hands in his hair.
She stroked his back. “If I hadn’t known you since we were kids, I’d think you were impotent.” She kissed him lightly on his ear, as she knew he liked. “But I’ve had you so many times that I always know what’s going through your mind, when only your body is here with me.”
“And what’s going through my head this time?”
“Death. An overwhelming sense of death. An impending death.”
| Language | Status |
|---|---|
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Portuguese
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Already translated.
Translated by Giovani Fatobeni
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Spanish
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Translation in progress.
Translated by Cristina García
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