Gemma Liviero is the author of the historical novels
Broken Angels and
Pastel Orphans, which was a finalist in the 2015 Next Generation Indie Book Awards. In addition to
novel writing, her professional career includes copywriting, corporate writing, writing feature articles and editorials, and editing. She holds an advanced diploma of arts (writing) and has continued her studies in arts and other humanities. Liviero lives with her family in Queensland, Australia.
She applied
the Page 69 Test to her new novel,
An Age of Winters, and reported the following:
From page 69:
distracted by the arrival of the executioner carrying a torch. Master bent his head to speak to the accused with what I assumed were words of absolution. Though Kleist had been imprisoned before Zacharias’s arrival, it was clear now that the decisions about the execution were connected to the latecomer. He would be remembered as the one who changed the execution from hanging to fire.
Not since our first discussion had he returned to the kitchen to sit and speak with me, but sometimes when I passed the doorway to the sitting room, he would call me in with queries that seemed harmless enough. Where first I’d been reluctant, stories ran off my tongue, told in part out of fear but more to impress him. I had told him about the drunk men down by the river, and the fight between two wives over a piece of gristly meat at the market, the pulling and twisting of hair. I had commented on those people who gossiped about anyone who kept to themselves, and those who were unruly. Standing in the crowd, I wondered then about the motive behind the questioning and watched him view Kleist with detachment. Zacharias stood still, not a tremor about him. He appeared not to notice the cold, unlike many who blew on their woollen-less fingers.
There was some difficulty lighting the fire. The crowd moved forward, thirsty for death, before they were ushered back by guards. Kleist was aware now of impending death, his expression all at once changing as he looked fearfully at the doings of the man who held the torch. He clenched his jaw and eyed the crowd. He hated everyone. Next, he turned to Zacharias Engel. It seemed he hated him the most.
The fire took to wood as thunder rumbled once again and ice crystals peppered the condemned man’s head. There were murmurs, not joyous this time. The fire whooshed upward, caught his rags for clothes that fused with his skin, then spread like crawling ants towards his head. Kleist screamed words as he burned, but I could make no sense of them. Smoke from burnt flesh spread above the crowd and dusted us with ash.
I squeezed and released the folds of my skirt several times to stop my tremors.
I was curious enough about the Page 69 Test to give it a go. It did not work for all my books, however, for this one it does set the dark tone that underlies much of the novel. An Age of Winters explores a brutal period in history that was driven by fear of diabolism and resulted in many executions. Perhaps page 69 will also help readers determine whether they might enjoy such a story and the themes written.
Katarin, a maidservant and one of two narrators, details the fate of a nobleman. This scene reveals a change in executions from hanging to burning, in order to destroy a ‘witch’. As well, this event is expected to ward off further heinous crimes and cure the village of famine and disease. The villagers, who up till then had speculated about strange climatic events and the accused’s crimes of murder, now dread that ‘witchcraft’ is in their midst and that authorities will stop at nothing to be rid of it. This execution makes it known that anyone from any background is a potential suspect, and from this point the villagers callously guard their own survival.
It is a significant moment for Katarin also as she recognises that she may have been an unwitting accomplice to the enigmatic Reverend Engel, and that his presence is more than just investigative or soul-saving. With both infatuation and fear, she yearns to know more.
Visit
Gemma Liviero's website.
--Marshal Zeringue