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Rome’s Culture
In The Altar of Victory, you take readers on a journey into the days of the Western Roman Empire and the political fallout following the death of Emperor Valentinian I. Why was this an important book for you to write?
It was important to me for several reasons. My interest in this era began long ago, when I was a European History major in college and had taken a class on the period from Late Antiquity through Charlemagne (300-800 AD roughly). The period up to Constantine was well covered, as was the actual catastrophe of the sack of Rome in 410 AD and the subsequent barbarian invasion. However, the course jumped past the last half of the 4th Century, when the Roman empire was still intact and just before these catastrophes began to increase. The more I read in the intervening years, the more evident this gap appeared. Even Gibbon’s Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire tended to treat this critical period of European history in summary fashion.
I also decided that the question of how such a technologically advanced civilization like Rome, with the most organized army and engineering in the world, could fail to see the threat and fall so quickly to less organized enemies. Was there a point when the decline could have been arrested? Did it really come down in part to the deaths of perhaps three key emperors (Valentinian, Valens, and Gratian)? Was it cultural change and the loss of a Roman identity? What role did the advent of organized Christianity play? It was a host of puzzles that I wanted to understand, if not solve.
Can you share with us a little about the research that went into putting this book together?
Before I began writing, I spent several years accumulating various non-fiction sources- books by more contemporary historians like David Brown and Michael Grant; biographies of Ambrose of Milan, etc. I also went to the limited primary sources- Ammianus Marcellinus, of course, Zosimus, the letters of Symmachus, St. Jerome, Ausonius, the Notitia Dignitatum, and others; the military manual of Vegetius. Even as I began to outline the plot and write the first chapters, I continued to read and learn what I could, and still felt that so much was still missing from the historical record. Which was also good, because it enabled me to fill in with a plot of my own devising!
What were some themes that were important for you to explore in this book?
I wanted to explore what remained of Rome’s culture in the 4th Century, and how it had been eroded or replaced as the empire had grown and the city of Rome was no longer the center of the empire. I was also interested in the courts of the emperors, when the emperors no longer came from Rome or even visited very much. The idea that the key military and administrative figures had now become Gauls, Franks, and other nationalities/tribes who had only recently been enemies of Rome seemed to me to be critical in understanding how “Romanness” could have been disappearing for decades before a military transition occurred.
Another theme of importance to me was the figure of Gratian. By all accounts, he was a decent and brave military leader and tried to be a good emperor. He was also a fairly devout Christian and took an interest in the ecumenical issues of the day. And yet, he did not last, and after his reign, the Roman army did not do well in the west. I wanted to explore whether he was the last, best hope for Rome and what factors worked against his success.
Can we look forward to more work from you soon? What are you currently working on?
I am both researching and writing the sequel to The Altar of Victory, in which I intend to conclude Gratian’s story. I am also trying valiantly to finish a collection of short stories set in the 19th and early 20th centuries of Louisiana and Texas before year end.
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The Altar of Victory
The Altar of Victory is a historical novel that plunges the reader into the waning days of the Western Roman Empire, centering around the death of Emperor Valentinian I and the political maneuvering that follows. Set in 375 A.D., it opens with Valentinian’s dealings with barbarian tribes and internal dissent, leading to his sudden death after a fit of imperial rage. The story then shifts into high-stakes political chess as the ambitious general Merobaudes races to install young Valentinian II on the throne before rivals can seize control. Along the way, the novel wrestles with themes of legacy, power, faith, loyalty, and the slow unraveling of an empire.
I found myself immediately immersed in its stark, lived-in world. The writing is richly atmospheric and historically informed, without ever feeling like a lecture. Every decision, every letter, and every small detail, like the crack in the aqueduct or the placement of a chair, feels purposeful. The prose is tight, clear, and evocative. What struck me most was how human the characters felt, especially Valentinian. He’s brutal, weary, proud, and oddly sympathetic. When he collapses mid-sentence, the emotional weight lands hard. The tension is just as strong in the quieter moments, furtive whispers in palace halls, long rides through uncertain terrain, as it is in battles and tribunals. I especially appreciated the balance between dialogue and action; the pacing kept me glued.
That said, what I really liked was the depth of the ideas. The book takes a hard look at power and how it mutates in uncertain times. The clash between the old gods and Christianity is not just window dressing; it’s a lens through which every character sees the world. Merobaudes, in particular, is a fascinating figure. He’s clever, opportunistic, not fully Roman yet entirely molded by Rome’s ideals. The women in the story, especially Justina and Mirjeta, are sharp and compelling, with agency that matters. There’s also an aching sense of decay in every corner of the empire, ruined towns, forgotten monuments, fading gods, that gives the story a haunting quality. I found myself thinking a lot about how empires die, not just politically, but spiritually.
I’d recommend The Altar of Victory to anyone who enjoys political intrigue, ancient history, or character-driven stories with bite. It’s a slow burn, but a rewarding one. If you like your historical fiction thoughtful, gritty, and emotionally textured, this one delivers. It’s not light reading, but it’s deeply satisfying, and in more than a few places, surprisingly moving.
Pages: 537 | ASIN : B0DCQ783YW
A Rich Tapestry
The Sword and the Hearth follows a young Brittonic boy thrust into leadership and survival as Saxon invaders threaten to crush his tribe and way of life, forcing him to mature quickly and navigate the complexities of war, leadership, and personal sacrifice.
What was your writing process to ensure you captured the essence of the characters?
My writing process for capturing the essence of the characters in “The Sword and the Hearth” was deeply iterative and rooted in a blend of imagination and focused development. It started with extensive brainstorming and profiling. Before I even wrote the first chapter, I created detailed character profiles for each main character, outlining not just their physical appearance but also their backstories, core beliefs, fears, desires, quirks, and even their favorite foods. This initial immersion helped me understand them as complete individuals, especially considering the varied backgrounds and social strata present in “The Sword and the Hearth.”
Then, during the actual writing, I employed method acting for authors. I’d often pause and ask myself, “How would this character react in this exact situation?” or “What would their internal monologue sound like right now?” This involved stepping into their shoes and genuinely trying to inhabit their perspective, particularly when exploring the nuanced relationships and internal conflicts central to the story. I paid close attention to their voice—ensuring that their dialogue, vocabulary, and even their thought patterns felt distinct and authentic to them, reflecting their individual journeys and development.
Finally, revision was crucial for refinement. I’d read scenes aloud, sometimes even acting out the dialogue, to catch any inconsistencies in character voice or motivation. I also relied on trusted beta readers who would provide feedback specifically on character believability, helping me to polish their nuances until they felt truly alive on the page, like companions in the reader’s own hearth.
What were some themes that were important for you to explore in this book?
Several themes were important for me to explore in “The Sword and the Hearth,” and they often interwove to create a richer tapestry:
The Enduring Strength of Family (Chosen and Blood): Whether it’s the bonds of biological family or the connections forged with individuals who become like family through shared trials, the strength and complexities of these relationships were central to the narrative. I wanted to show how these connections can be both a source of comfort and conflict, truly forming the ‘hearth’ aspect of the title.
The Nature of Identity and Belonging: Many characters grapple with who they are, where they fit in, and what truly defines them, especially when faced with challenging circumstances or new environments. This theme often explored the tension between individual desires and societal expectations, particularly within the feudal setting.
The Power and Peril of Secrets: Secrets, both personal and generational, play a significant role. I wanted to examine how secrets can shape relationships, influence decisions, and ultimately lead to either liberation or destruction, often with far-reaching consequences for the characters and the realm.
Redemption and Second Chances: I was keen to explore the idea that even after mistakes or difficult pasts, there’s often an opportunity for characters to find redemption, to change, and to build a better future for themselves and those around them, irrespective of their station or previous choices.
Will there be a follow-up novel to this story? If so, what aspects of the story will the next book cover?
While “The Sword and the Hearth” stands as a complete narrative in its own right, the literary journey for me, Ciaran MacLeod, has continued with “Echoes of the Ancient Isle,” which serves as the next significant novel in my bibliography.
“Echoes of the Ancient Isle” explores entirely new facets of the world and delves into different aspects of fantasy. It primarily focuses on the unearthing of forgotten histories and the resurgence of ancient magic. Readers will find themselves immersed in a world where the past literally resonates through the present, uncovering secrets tied to long-lost civilizations and powerful artifacts. The story examines themes of legacy, the enduring influence of ancestral spirits, and the profound consequences of disturbing dormant forces. While it features a new cast of characters and a distinct setting, it represents the continuation of my overarching storytelling themes of discovery, personal growth through adversity, and the intricate dance between human will and destiny. It expands the scope of my fictional universe, inviting readers to explore entirely different realms and challenges.
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Raised in the northern hills of Britannia, Cadric must navigate the complexities of war, leadership, and personal sacrifice as he becomes the unlikely leader of his tribe. Alongside him is Maev, a woman whose strength and determination challenge Cadric’s own sense of duty and love. Together, they must face not only the violent Saxon forces gathering at their borders but also the internal struggles that threaten to tear their community apart.
Amidst brutal battles, moments of heartbreak, and triumphs of courage, The Sword and the Hearth is a tale of resilience, the ties that bind people together, and the price of leadership. Will Cadric be able to unite his people and protect the hearth of his homeland, or will the Saxons prove too powerful to resist? This is a story of honor, loyalty, and the strength to protect what truly matters.
The Sword and the Hearth
The Sword and the Hearth follows Cadric, a young Brittonic boy thrust into leadership and survival as Saxon invaders threaten to crush his tribe and way of life. From the fog-choked forests of Eboracum to the blood-soaked hillforts of ancient Britain, this novel delivers an unflinching look at resistance, loyalty, and legacy. It is as much a coming-of-age story as it is a meditation on the costs of war, culture, and identity. As Cadric transforms from a frightened adolescent into a hardened leader, the reader is taken through heart-pounding battles, devastating losses, and the ever-tightening grip of fate.
I found the writing both gritty and poetic. The prose often reads like folklore, earthy, elemental, steeped in loss and myth. There are no wasted words here. Every paragraph drips with atmosphere. The mist, the blood, the grit in Cadric’s boots, it’s all vivid, almost cinematic. And the dialogue is sparse, sharp, and realistic. It respects the silence of trauma. What hit hardest for me were the quiet moments. Cadric watching smoke rise on the horizon or whispering a promise to his dying mother. The action scenes thrum with intensity, but it’s the quiet heartbreaks that linger.
The book is heavy, relentless even. There are stretches where the despair almost chokes the page, and the pacing slows as characters dig deeper into pain and politics. But maybe that’s the point. The story doesn’t pretend there are easy answers or heroic victories. It feels honest to the bone. Cadric’s growth isn’t triumphant; it’s painful, earned in blood and grief. The portrayal of the Saxons isn’t cartoonish either. There’s nuance here, a mutual alienation and brutality that makes the conflict feel tragically human.
The Sword and the Hearth shook me. It made me angry, sad, and strangely hopeful. It’s a story for readers who want their historical fiction raw and emotionally complex, who don’t need neat endings or pretty resolutions. I’d recommend this to fans of Bernard Cornwell or Mary Renault, basically anyone who appreciates richly textured worlds, stoic characters, and the ache of endurance. It’s not a casual read, but it’s a worthy one.
Pages: 368 | ASIN : B0DKPYGZDK
Damnatio Memoriae
Somtow’s Damnatio Memoriae is the final, emotionally raw, and beautifully written chapter of the Nero and Sporus saga. It’s a deeply personal journey told through the voice of Sporus, a former slave and imperial concubine, who relives his (and her) rise and fall at the edges of empire, identity, and power. This isn’t your average Roman epic—it’s visceral, surreal, darkly poetic, and hauntingly queer. With Nero’s collapse and Rome’s chaos as the backdrop, Sporus reflects on life, gender, betrayal, and the myth of love, all while waiting to be executed in a packed arena. It’s intense.
What hit me first was how lyrical the writing is. It reads like a fever dream soaked in garum and incense. Somtow doesn’t hold back—there’s real pain here, but also twisted humor and staggering beauty. The opening monologue, for example, where Sporus describes the reek of sand, blood, and beast dung in the arena, while cracking dry jokes about makeup and waiting for a death scene, felt like Oscar Wilde doing Gladiator cosplay. And yet, it’s achingly tragic. And then there’s the ring scene in the marketplace, where a carved image of Persephone triggers a spiritual collapse and sparks an impromptu imperial crucifixion crisis. Absolutely brilliant and brutal.
That said, this book isn’t an easy read. It expects a lot from you—emotionally, intellectually, even morally. Nero is magnetic and monstrous, sometimes at the same time, and the dynamics between him and Sporus swing from disturbing to tender. Somtow nails this complexity. But the heartbreak really comes from how aware Sporus is of their own powerlessness, even while being dressed up as a goddess or cherished as a boy. In “Clipped Wings,” the metaphor of the clipped doves—meant to be freed in a religious ritual but secretly recaptured—just gutted me.
If you like your historical fiction brutal and beautiful, if you’re into mythology reimagined through a queer lens, if you can handle morally messy characters and poetic trauma—this is for you. Fans of Mary Renault, Madeline Miller, or even Game of Thrones at its sharpest will probably find something to love here. But it’s also for people who want to feel something deep and uncomfortable. I’m not gonna lie, it’s sometimes hard to stomach—but I didn’t want to look away.
Pages: 232 | ASIN : B0F2YZ1HRH
The Dog Roses: Na Feirdhriseacha
David H. Millar’s The Dog Roses: Na Feirdhriseacha is an exhilarating historical fantasy that plunges the reader into a world of ancient Gaelic warfare, mysticism, and political intrigue. The novel follows the twin sisters, Brighid and Danu, as they navigate their birthright, destiny, and the brutal conflicts that define their world. From the stormy shores of Ériu to the blood-soaked battlegrounds of their homeland, the sisters must harness their strength, wit, and the mystical bond of the feirdhriseacha—the dog roses—imprinted on their chests. Their journey is one of leadership, betrayal, and resilience, all set against the backdrop of Celtic mythology and the harsh realities of Iron Age survival.
One of the novel’s greatest strengths is its ability to immerse readers in a richly detailed and authentic world. Millar’s grasp of ancient Gaelic culture, from its warrior code to the complexities of clan politics, is impressive. The descriptions of battle are visceral, and the political maneuvering is sharp and unforgiving. The scene where Danu and Brighid are confronted with the weight of leadership at Ráth Na Conall is particularly compelling. The tension between personal desires and duty is palpable. The author builds an entire realm that feels as real as the history it is inspired by.
The dynamic between the twin protagonists is another element I liked. Their relationship is raw and full of conflict. Brighid’s impulsiveness and fiery spirit contrast beautifully with Danu’s calculated and strategic mind. Their clash in the Great Hall, where Draighean, their Sidhe mentor, berates them for their discord, is one of the novel’s most powerful moments. This moment, more than any other, encapsulates the novel’s emotional depth.
Millar’s writing style is both poetic and brutal, a balance that suits the novel’s tone perfectly. The action scenes are unflinchingly graphic, bringing the horrors of war to life in a way that is both mesmerizing and unsettling. The passage where Maolán faces off against the alpha wolf, Silverback, is a perfect example—nature and man, predator and prey, all locked in a desperate fight for survival. At times, the descriptions of violence and suffering push the boundaries of comfort, but they also serve a purpose, reinforcing the novel’s themes of endurance and the unrelenting nature of conflict.
The Dog Roses: Na Feirdhriseacha is a gripping read that will appeal to fans of historical fantasy, especially those with an interest in Celtic mythology and ancient warrior cultures. The depth of world-building, the complexity of the characters, and the sheer intensity of the storytelling make this a novel worth savoring. If you enjoy books like The Mists of Avalon or The Last Kingdom, this one should be on your list.
Pages: 365 | ASIN : B0BDT3ZC72
Vengeance of the Vanished Ones, Book One
Vengeance of the Vanished Ones, Book One by Lee Orlich Bertram, is a thrilling tale that masterfully weaves mystery, suspense, and adventure. The story centers on Marcos Andersson, an archaeologist in Mexico determined to uncover the truth behind his best friend Dave’s mysterious death. Dave had claimed to have discovered something groundbreaking before his demise. What could it have been, and did it cost him his life? Marcos’s journey becomes even more complex when he crosses paths with Susan Cohen, an intelligent and alluring woman with secrets of her own. As the layers of deception unravel, the stakes rise. Can Susan’s revelations bring them closer together, or will they drive them apart? And what about Marcos’s own hidden truths? Their adventure takes a perilous turn, propelling them into a deadly dance with forces beyond their control.
Marcos stands out as a sharply drawn, captivating protagonist. His charisma and intellect make him an instant favorite, pulling readers into his journey. Susan, his enigmatic love interest, matches his intrigue with her own blend of brilliance and cunning. Their chemistry crackles on the page, with each interaction a highlight of the narrative. The story’s tone strikes a perfect balance—upbeat yet tinged with darkness, always keeping the reader on edge. The pacing is precise, propelling the plot forward while allowing moments of rich character development. Lee Orlich Bertram’s world-building is exceptional, immersing the reader in a vivid, pulse-pounding adventure.
Several moments shine in this gripping tale. The instant connection between Marcos and Susan adds a spark to their partnership. Marcos’s internal struggle over Susan’s ties to the spirit world raises intriguing questions about trust and belief. Their perilous trek through Mexico, punctuated by breathtaking landscapes and looming threats, brims with tension. The mystery surrounding Dave’s death unfolds with masterful precision, and the danger posed by the spirits heightens the stakes to electrifying levels.
This story is flawless. It’s one of the most compelling narratives I’ve read in recent memory. From its dynamic characters to its intricate plot, every element resonates with excitement and intrigue. Lee Orlich Bertram has crafted a mesmerizing, action-packed, and character-driven adventure. Vengeance of the Vanished Ones, Book One is a triumph, and I eagerly anticipate more stories featuring the unforgettable Marcos Andersson.
Pages: 237 | ISBN : 978-1685135188
Delphi
In Delphi, by Karen Martin, the reader is invited into a world where the boundaries between myth and reality blur as the protagonist, Cressida, embarks on a journey of self-discovery. Torn between her love for Gorgios and her reluctance to accept his marriage proposal, she grapples with a profound dilemma: how to shape her future while navigating the complexities of her present, including a secret pregnancy that weighs heavily on her mind. To find clarity, Cressida seeks out the wisdom of an oracle, hoping for a vision of her destiny and a deeper understanding of herself. Her path takes her to Delphi, where ancient stories come alive, supernatural forces intervene, and myths unravel in unexpected ways.
Martin masterfully intertwines history and fantasy, creating a narrative rich in detail and imagination. The novel’s vibrant depictions of gods and legendary creatures, from tales of Artemis and Apollo to encounters with the Minoans and matriarchal societies, captivate the reader. These elements are woven seamlessly into Cressida’s transformative journey, where even familiar myths, like the tale of the Minotaur and the labyrinth, are imbued with new meaning. The labyrinth serves as a compelling metaphor for the shadows we all carry, embodying both light and darkness, and it enriches the book’s thematic depth. The fantastical elements shine brilliantly. Each mythical encounter and supernatural event is vividly described, capturing the wonder of ancient legends and drawing in lovers of fantasy. Particularly striking is Cressida’s meeting with the oracle, a pivotal moment that illuminates her internal struggles and propels her forward on her quest for truth.
The narrative skillfully portrays Cressida’s turmoil and introspection, presenting her inner voice with an authenticity that resonates, even though it is written in the third person. Her fears and hopes are palpable, and her contemplation of how her choices impact those around her, especially concerning her pregnancy and her feelings for Gorgios, is compelling and deeply relatable.
I do feel that the storyline feels like it has many characters and events introduced in rapid succession. This lack of narrative focus occasionally detracts from the central arc of Cressida’s emotional and spiritual growth. For example, I believe that the relationship between Cressida and Aunt Margaret, which holds significant potential, could have benefited from more development.
Delphi is undeniably a unique and magical book. Its lush and engaging characters, along with its intricate tapestry of myths and legends, paint a world that fantasy enthusiasts will find hard to resist. The novel’s rich imagery and imaginative storytelling transport readers into a realm of sirens, oracles, and Greek deities. Karen Martin’s Delphi is a celebration of myth and self-discovery, offering a rewarding experience filled with beauty, complexity, and wonder.
Pages: 261 | ASIN : B0DHQLMXTB
LITERARY TITAN 