Ivory Bones
The Lewis Chessmen Murders
by Sara Winokur
Historical Mystery
Date Published: February 4, 2025
Publisher: Briarstone Press (sarawinokur.com)
Ancient chess pieces. A centuries-old diary. And a modern killer closing in.
When Icelandic forensic geneticist Brynja Pálsdóttir, haunted by her family’s dark legacy, is drawn into the search for the missing Lewis Chessmen, she becomes a pawn in an assassin’s deadly game.
A centuries-old diary, written by a woman abducted during the brutal Barbary pirate raid on Iceland in 1627, lands on her desk. Brynja soon realizes the woman’s story may hold the key to finding the priceless medieval artifacts.
As Brynja digs deeper, she becomes the target, surrounded by deception and unsure of whom she can trust: the NYPD colleague hiding her own motives, the sculptor whose family lays claim to the chessmen, the lover she has spurned, even her own assistant.
As the past and present collide, betrayal, loss, and survival transcend time and place.
Ivory Bones: The Lewis Chessmen Murders is a gripping blend of Nordic noir, historical intrigue, and murder mystery, where ancient secrets and modern dangers force Brynja to face a dark, inner truth before the assassin makes their final move.
Excerpt:
Brynja checked her watch. She was late for the annual Thorrablót feast. Although the
pagan sacrifice was a thing of the past, in Iceland the past lived on. Her long-time love Ari was hosting the traditional dinner party at his favorite restaurant, Nordica, and she didn’t want to miss the celebration.
She stood to grab her coat from the rack, then hesitated.
The book stared at her.
Ari would understand. She sat back down and unfolded the loose paper that had fallen
from its pages. Except for the ragged edges, it was surprisingly soft and smooth. Brynja
recognized it as rag paper, a common form of paper centuries ago. Cotton rags washed
and ground into pulp.
She squinted to read the faded ink.
I hasten to write my last words.
In my life, I have survived unspeakable horrors.
Twenty odd years ago, in the year of our Lord 1627, I was
taken captive from my beloved Iceland and swept across vast and
furious seas by the cruelest of men, the Barbary pirates. Torn from
my family and my homeland, I met a slave’s fate in Algiers and
servitude in Morocco. Now, I tremble in the dark hollow of my
master’s shed, kept away from his clapboard house in New
Amsterdam.
I hear footsteps approach.
We meant no harm.
I pray Willem will live to love again.
For me, it is too late.
God save my soul.
Sorrow seeped into Brynja’s bones.
She fixed on the date. 1627.
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