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Shadows in Bronze - SIGNED - Lindsey Davis
1990 English hardcover first edition, 1st impression, Sidgwick & Jackson, London A VG++ book in near fine unclipped (£13.95) dust jacket Signed on the title page by the author No names, inscriptions or stamps etc Tightly bound and square, light marks to foredge The jacket has no loss or tears Marcus Didius Falco finds himself in disguise and amidst another mystery set in ancient Rome A clean tidy copy of the second book in the series, priced well under market value For Sale at £SOLD (approx $SOLD) * - free delivery worldwide ! |
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Poseidon's Gold - SIGNED - Lindsey Davis
1993 UK hardback first edition, 1st impression, Century, London A near fine book in fine unclipped dustwrapper Signed on the title page by the author No other names, inscriptions or stamps etc Tightly bound and square, usual light edge tanning The jacket has no loss or tears A Falco novel set in AD 72 which sees our man returing from 6 months with the German legions, great stuff A nce tidy copy For Sale at £30 (approx $51) *DF7 - free delivery worldwide ! |
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The Iron Hand of Mars - SIGNED - Lindsey Davis
1992 British hardcover first edition, 1st impression, Hutchinson, London A near fine book in fine unclipped dustcover Signed on the title page by the author No names, inscriptions or stamps etc Tightly bound and square, ever present edge tanning to paper The jacket has no loss or tears Marcus is on his way to Roman Germany with uneasy nerves as Titus Caesar is taking too close and interest in his lady friend, the lovely Helena A scarce book and the fourth in the series For Sale at £95 (approx $160) *DF7 - free delivery worldwide ! |
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We worked fast, fighting down our physical disgust. We had to hack away two tunics stinking with body waste. Only the roughest wash-and-wear old clothes dealer would pick over these rags far enough to find the embroidered namebands sewn inside the neck. Yet we had to be sure. Back in the yard, squeezing in gulps of fresh air, we burned all we could; we even charred his shoes and belt. He wore finger rings. Frontinus screwed those off somehow; the gold band indicating middle rank, a giant emerald cameo, a signet ring, and two more, one with a woman's name. They could not be sold in case they reappeared; I would drop them into the Tiber later that day. At last, looping a rope around the nearly naked corpse, we tugged it across a stretcher we had brought. I went to push him on with my toe, then had second thoughts. The silent Praetorians kept the alley clear while Frontinus and I staggered along it to pitch our burden down a manhole into the Great Sewer. We listened; there was a splash at the bottom near the stone access steps. The rats would come across him soon enough. When the next summer storm was draining from the Forum, anything that was left of him would be rolled into the river through the massive arch below the Aemilian Bridge, then either lodged up against the piles to frighten passing boatmen or carried on, to be nibbled clean by undiscerning fish in an unmarked, unknown resting place at sea. |
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