Giovanni's GiftImagine a scene of rural serenity, a night scene. Above the mountains surrounding this faraway place, the stars are a menagerie of silver flickering motes. Imagine a solitary ranch, a man and a woman asleep. It would be hard to fathom a purer vision of people at peace in the natural world. Who could foresee that this tranquility would be so brutally shattered by the night visitors? When Grant hears of the campaign of malice being waged against his only living relatives, he abandons Rome and a crumbling marriage to do what he can to help them. His brash confidence is quickly bruised as the night visits escalate in violence, and the death of Giovanni Trentas, a dear family friend found mutilated in a gorge above the ranch, takes on new meaning. When his aunt presents him with Giovanni's legacy - an old cigar box filled with letters, photos, and seemingly random knick-knacks - Grant finds himself in possession of a puzzle that might hold the answers to much more than Giovanni's death. Grant's unfolding passion for Giovanni's daughter, Helen, forces him to choose between loyalty and love as the night terrors come to their catastrophic end. |
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Page 153
... head , maybe press my lips into the mysterious soft spot that centers the parietal juncture where , at the crowns of babies ' heads , the new blood pulses , she lifted her mouth to mine and I tasted the sweet saltiness of my own body on ...
... head , maybe press my lips into the mysterious soft spot that centers the parietal juncture where , at the crowns of babies ' heads , the new blood pulses , she lifted her mouth to mine and I tasted the sweet saltiness of my own body on ...
Page 192
... head spun . After lunch , I wanted to be alone . From my bedroom I retrieved The Wonder Book , then came back ... head whose mouth opened as if in a languid if stiff yawn . When I was young , one night wandering around in the dark , I'd ...
... head spun . After lunch , I wanted to be alone . From my bedroom I retrieved The Wonder Book , then came back ... head whose mouth opened as if in a languid if stiff yawn . When I was young , one night wandering around in the dark , I'd ...
Page 320
... head lowered to crop at grass . Magpies picked their way over hum- mocks of dried mud and tufts of vegetation . Above , a flock of small birds bounded southward , calling to one another with voices that whistled pee - pee - bee . Behind ...
... head lowered to crop at grass . Magpies picked their way over hum- mocks of dried mud and tufts of vegetation . Above , a flock of small birds bounded southward , calling to one another with voices that whistled pee - pee - bee . Behind ...
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able already answer Ash Creek asked began believe better called caught closed continued course dark didn't don't door Edmé eyes face fact father feel felt field finally followed Giovanni give gone Grant hand happened hard head hear heard Helen Henry Henry's hope hour idea imagine Italy kind kitchen knew least leave less Lewis light lived look Margery matter mean meant Milland mind morning mountains moved never night Noah once passed past question reached reason remember returned road Rome seemed seen sense side smiled someone stay stood studio sure talk Tate tell things thought told took town Trentas turned uncle valley voice walked Willa window wondered