The Blackest Time Blog Tour

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Book Title and Author Name:

The Blackest Time

by Ken Tentarelli

Blurb: 

Set in the 1300s during the devastating black plague, The Blackest Time is a powerful tale of compassion, love, and the human spirit’s ability to endure immense adversity.

Gino, the central character, is a young man who leaves his family’s farm to find work in a pharmacy in Florence. His experiences show us how people coped in the most horrific time in history.

Shortly after Gino arrived in the city, two years of incessant rain destroyed crops in the countryside, leading to famine and despair in the city. Gino offers hope and help to the suffering— he secures shelter for a woman forced to leave her flooded farm, rescues a young girl orphaned by the plague, and aids others who have lost everything.

The rains had barely ended when the plague hit the city, exposing the true character of its people. While some blamed others for the devastation, the story focuses on the compassionate acts of neighbors helping each other overcome fear and suffering. Doctors bravely risk infection to care for their patients. A woman healer, wrongly accused of witchcraft and driven from the city, finds a new beginning in a village where her skills were appreciated.

Despite the hardships, love blossoms between Gino and a young woman he met at the apothecary. Together they survive, finding strength in each other and hope in a world teetering on the edge.

The Blackest Time is a testament to the strength of the human spirit in overcoming unimaginable tragedy.

Excerpt 2:

During the Black Plague, people sought scapegoats to blame for bringing the plague upon them. Here, a woman healer gets targeted as a witch.

Tired after a busy day at the apothecary, Gino trudged home. He spotted Masina a distance ahead, walking toward the house where they both rented rooms. She was with another woman whom Gino did not recognize. The woman’s simple peasant clothes let Gino guess she was coming to Masina for treatment of an illness.

Suddenly, two boys dashed out from behind the house the women had just passed. One boy cocked his arm and hurled a rock that struck Masina’s back. She turned. “Witch!” the boy shouted.

Gino raced ahead. The second boy raised his arm. Gino saw the rock in his hand. As the boy’s arm arced forward, Gino grabbed it; the boy lost his grip, spilling the rock harmlessly to the ground. “She’s a witch,” the boy whined as he squirmed to free himself from Gino’s grasp.

“No, she’s not a witch. She’s a healer,” Gino barked.

“My father said she’s a witch,” the first boy insisted. “He said she makes evil potions and the advocati are coming for her.”

“Your father is wrong. She makes curatives to help sick people, not evil potions. Now go and never let me see you troubling her again. She’s a good woman.”

The boys slunk away, Gino watching them until they were out of sight. When he turned back to face Masina, the other woman had gone. He walked with Masina and when they reached his room, he said, “Come inside. I have something to tell you.”

Gino poured two mugs of lemon water and set them on the table. He said, “Yesterday, I heard two men saying the advocati sent by the Holy Father in Rome have already arrived in Florence ready to find and punish witches.”

Masina took a sip of the cool liquid and said dispassionately, “I’ve heard the same.”

“The men claimed the advocati have already detained a healer and a rector. They’ve accused the woman of witchcraft and scheduled her trial for next week.”

Masina’s nose scrunched with concern. “Did you hear the woman’s name? I must know her. There are only a few of us healers in the city.”

“No, I didn’t hear her name, but someone said they’re searching for another witch in the Santa Maria Novella district. They could be looking for you!” Gino said forcefully. Masina shrugged but said nothing. Gino continued, “Two days ago, I saw a man and a woman leaving your office. I thought you kept yourself safe by treating only women.”

“I did when all the women I treated were locals. They appreciated my need for secrecy, but the migrants don’t understand. When they’re sick and need treatment, I can’t turn them away even when they come with their husbands or children. I try to tell them, but …”

Loud thundering of footsteps on the stairway leading to the second level of the house stifled Masina’s words. “Those are her rooms. Up there!” a voice outside shouted.

From above, they heard pounding on a door, followed by an emphatic demand by a throaty voice. “By authority of the Holy Mother Church and His Holiness Pope Clement, we order you to open this door.” Again, there was pounding on the door. When no one responded, the same voice commanded, “Open it!”

A single hard thwack and the splintering of wood preceded the tromping of three sets of boots storming into Masina’s room. From the sounds, Gino and Masina could tell what was happening above their heads. “She’s not here,” one voice muffled down through Gino’s ceiling.

“Look for her writings, for parchments with spells. Look for any signs she’s practicing the teachings of Satan,” the throaty voice ordered. After the men rummaged through Masina’s room for several minutes, a thin voice said, “There’s nothing incriminating here.”

“Search the rooms on the lower level,” the commanding voice directed.

Gino heard footsteps outside approaching his room. He realized quickly there was no place to hide Masina. “Get behind the door. Hurry,” he mouthed.

She had barely scurried across the room when there was a hard rap on Gino’s door and a voice outside demanded the occupant to open the door per order of the Church and His Holiness. Gino pulled the door open enough to see a monk clad in the white robe of the Dominican order. “We’re looking for the woman who lives in this building,” the monk announced.

“There’s no woman here,” Gino replied. He swung the door fully open, flattening it against Masina. “You may look if you wish.” He stepped to the side with his back pressed hard against the door to keep it from moving and gestured for the monk to enter.

The monk took a step into the room, looked around, and, seeing no one, asked, “Who lives in the other room on this level?”

“I don’t know. I’m new here,” Gino lied. “People stay in these rooms only a short time. I don’t know who is there now.”

Believing Gino knew nothing, the monk turned and left. Gino pushed the door closed. The sudden relief caused Masina to gasp. She took a few quick breaths and said, “Thank God he didn’t stay. I couldn’t have held my breath much longer.”

Moments later, they heard the monks entering Masina’s treatment room. Gino beckoned Masina to a narrow crack in the stone wall separating his room from her treatment room. They pressed their ears against the crack and listened to the sounds coming from the other room.

“This is where she does Satan’s work,” a voice said. “Look at these urns. They hold the powders she uses to make her evil potions. Take them, all of them. We’ll use them as evidence at her trial, then we’ll burn them…after we burn her,” he snarled.

Buy Link:

Universal Buy Link:  https://books2read.com/u/bPO08J

Author Bio:

Ken Tentarelli is a frequent visitor to Italy. In travels from the Alps to the southern coast of Sicily, he developed a love for its history and its people.

He has studied Italian culture and language in Rome and Perugia, background he used in his award-winning series of historical thrillers set in the Italian Renaissance. He has taught courses in Italian history spanning time from the Etruscans to the Renaissance, and he’s a strong advocate of libraries and has served as a trustee of his local library and officer of the library foundation.

When not traveling, Ken and his wife live in beautiful New Hampshire.

Author Links:

Website:   https://KenTentarelli.com

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/ken.tentarelli.3/

Instagram:    https://www.instagram.com/kententarelliauthor/

Book Bub:  https://www.bookbub.com/authors/ken-tentarelli

Amazon Author Page: 

https://www.amazon.com/stores/Ken-Tentarelli/author/B07PDYZ34Q

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18920645.Ken_Tentarelli