🌈⏳Throwback Thursday's Time Machine⏳🌈: Secret Simon by Davidson King

Summary:
Haven Hart Universe #8

Simon

Being the nephew of one of the most infamous mob bosses in the world isn’t easy. Our family has enemies everywhere, and no one is safe without protection. Here I am at college with a fresh start, a new last name, and secrets hidden from those around me—life is going according to plan. Then one day on campus, I see him…and I want him to strip me bare…in more ways than one.

Rush

Abernathy is more than just the university I attend. It’s my destiny, my namesake. Singing and entertaining are who I am, but my father wants me to major in something more appropriate for the name I carry. I’ve resigned myself to being who my father wants, doing what he wants. Then Simon comes into my life…and turns everything upside down. Now I have a reason to fight for what I want.

Who knew our love story would lead to secrets revealed, murderous plots, and finding our forever buried under so many lies? Hopefully we’ll live long enough to see it.

(While Secret Simon is a Haven Hart Novel it is not linked to the 7 book story arc)

*Warning: Violence and mention of suicide*

Original Review June Book of the Month 2021:

HOLY HANNAH BATMAN! OMG! The Force is with us all!  We have a new Haven Hart book by Davidson King!!!!!!

Okay, I got that out of my system, lets continue.  

I should start by pointing out as the author mentions at the end of the blurb, Secret Simon is not linked to the original 7 book arc, story-wise at least.  We see a few of the characters and of course "Simon" is Eight all grown up(he's still Eight to Snow but I have a feeling Snow will still be calling him Eight when he's 60).  So if you haven't read Davidson King's Haven Hart universe you can start here although I don't know that I would want to, you won't be lost in any way, shape, or form.  To be honest, I am a series-read-in-order kinda gal and Haven Hart is one of my all time favorite series of all genres.

Secret Simon.  Flat out brilliant!  This story has it all(okay there's no sci-fi or apocalyptic end of the world stuff although going after Christopher Manos' family probably won't end well for anyone) romance, mystery, heat, action, friendship, danger, love, family, and it wouldn't be Haven Hart without mayhem and plenty of well . . . heart(see what I did there😉😉).

Lets talk characters.  Simon has become as wonderful an adult as he was when we first met him at 8.  He may be blood to Christopher but Snow has made a lasting impression on him as well, which will only enhance his future role in the Manos family.  Now, in case you haven't read Haven Hart's original 7 book arc, I won't go into too much detail for the I'm-a-spoiler-free-zone kinda gal but I will say there is a very important reason the book is titled Secret Simon.  Don't worry, just because I won't spoil anything, the author doesn't leave you up in the air with a hundred questions of "why? what? who? or where?", King makes sure you got a feel for what's going on.  As for Rush?  He has a future written for him but is it the future he wants to write for himself?  Yeah, you know what's coming:  you have to read for yourself to find out.  Trust me you will enjoy every minute of finding out.  Put the two together and the chemistry just screams out at you.

What more can I say?  I could say a lot but I'm going to end here or I'm afraid the longer I go on the more chance I'll get loose lipped(or loose fingers) and reveal more than I want.  So I will just say this: Secret Simon has reinforced my love of Haven Hart and proven to me that it is an author's universe that belongs on my short list of "Whether they write a 4 paragraph holiday coda or 100 full length novels I'll be first in line to gobble them up".  Davidson King once again provides her readers with an unforgettable tale that entertains and captures their attention from beginning to end, further cementing her place in the world as a topnotch storyteller.

Original Audiobook Review April 2022:

How in the world has it taken me so long to listen to Secret Simon?!?!?!?! The audiobook was released last October and here it is nearly May, again HOW?  Oh well, no matter how long it took for me to listen, I've listened and once again I fell even further for Haven Hart.  Having recently read book 2, Head Rush, everything was fresh in my mind but that didn't lessen the depths I fell again for Simon and Rush.  Truth is, there's not much more I can say to the story itself or the storytelling genius that also goes by the name of Davidson King.  

What I will say is this: I never listened to a dual narration before King's audios and was leery going in but loved it instantly.  I'm not sure why I had any hesitancy because I love the old radio shows of the 30s and 40s and a good audio portrayal always reminded me of the classic radio platform.  Truth is John Solo and Alexander Cendese bring so much passion and strength to the characters that I can almost hear Harlow Wilcox breaking in with the ad for spark plugs he pitched on Suspense all those years ago.  Not only do they bring Simon, Rush, and all the characters to life, I can hear the sound effects, I can hear the studio audience gasping with "oohs" and "ahhs" with each new revelation.

Another winning combination of author's words and narrators' voices to heighten the enjoyment of Secret Simon, the new Haven Hart-connected journey.

RATING:

Prologue 

My name is Simon, but you can call me Eight—I’ll explain that later—and this is the story of how my hope for a quiet drama-free college life blew up in my face…all because I fell in love. 

Yes, I know, cheesy. But here’s the thing—it really is true. It’s more complex than that, and it wouldn’t be much of a story if it was all, “Met a boy, he was cool, we fell in love, the end.” 

Truth is, I chose to go to college five hours from Haven Hart, where I grew up, not because I had a bad childhood or hated my family, but because everyone knew who I was there…Hell, everyone knew who I was for miles and miles from there. If you don’t know why, let me fill you in real fast. 

I’m the nephew of the most powerful mob boss in Haven Hart, Christopher Manos. He isn’t your typical mobster, though. I’ve seen the documentaries on Al Capone and Joe Bonanno, and yeah, sure, my uncle killed and isn’t clean in a lot of ways. But he’s also the best man I know. My mom died when I was a baby, and he loved me as a son and raised me as far away from his lifestyle as possible…Or at least, he tried to. No matter how hard he tried, though, there was no way to hide that kind of stuff forever. 

As a child I saw a lot of things I shouldn’t have, but when I was eight everything changed. There’s that number again. See, I got bored waiting in a car while my pops’s driver—Pops is what I call my uncle—went into the ice cream shop to get me some rocky road. So, I left the car and wandered around. That wasn’t a good idea, and yet it kinda was. 

A couple of guys started hassling me. One was named Roy Sokolov, and he tried to kidnap me. But from the depths of a dark, dank alley came my guardian angel. His name is Snow. He saved me that day, and we saved him too. He and my pops fell in love, and that’s how I found the second-best person in my life. Snow, he calls me Eight—the age I was when he saved me—and because when he asked me what to call me, I wouldn’t give him my name and only my age…I think you get the picture. 

After that night, I saw so much more. Years later, my pops and I were actually kidnapped. There was no escaping the life he lived and so, when it came time to go to college, I decided it should be far away in the hopes that no one would know who I was. 

Snow suggested I use a different last name, and while it hurt my heart to do it, I knew he was right. There were forgeries made, and abracadabra! I became Simon Mancia.

Thankfully, I got through my first year of college easily. No one knew who I was—at least no one said anything. I dated a few people. Penelope for about six months, but we didn’t click the way a boyfriend and girlfriend should…Instead, she became my best friend. Then there was Raul. He was amazing, but he cheated on me after two months, and yeah…that sucked. I hadn’t been with anyone since. That was, until I saw Him. He was singing karaoke on the green at campus when I returned my second year. It was some welcome-back thing, and he was right there and…Wow. 

Penelope told me his name was Rush, and that was all she knew. I decided it would be my mission to find out more and hope beyond hope that he’d take me up on an offer for coffee. 

Well, there’s something to be said for falling in love with someone; you will risk it all. I did just that and more. 

So, sit back and find out how my finally calm life was turned upside down…all because I fell in love.

Saturday's Series Spotlight

Haven Hart

Part 1  /  Part 2  /  Part 3

Father's Day Edition

Joker's Sin

Part 1

October 2022 Book of the Month

 Law of Retaliation

Westford

🎧Monday Mysterious Mayhem🎧

Enemy Mine

Davidson King

Davidson King, always had a hope that someday her daydreams would become real-life stories. As a child, you would often find her in her own world, thinking up the most insane situations. It may have taken her awhile, but she made her dream come true with her first published work, Snow Falling.

She managed to wrangle herself a husband who matched her crazy and they hatched three wonderful children.

If you were to ask her what gave her the courage to finally publish, she’d tell you it was her amazing family and friends. Support is vital in all things and when you’re afraid of your dreams, it will be your cheering section that will lift you up.

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Secret Simon #8

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Haven Hart Universe

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🌈🌻🌼Sunday's Short Stack(Father's Day Edition)🌼🌻🌈: Kick Start by Josh Lanyon

Summary:

Dangerous Ground #5

Be careful what you wish for...

Financial pressures and a brutal workload are not quite what former DSS Agents Will Brandt and Taylor MacAllister signed on for when they decided to open their own security consulting business.

When they bump into an old adversary while undercover, and the job goes south, Will braces himself and suggests they head up to Oregon to celebrate the Thanksgiving holiday with his family.

Unfortunately, not every member of the Brandt clan loves Taylor the way Will does. Then again, not everyone loves the Brandts. In fact, someone has a score to settle--and too bad for any former feds who get in the way when the bullets start to fly.

Original Review December 2013:
Another great entry in the series. Loved seeing Will in his hometown family element, even with the ups and downs. I truly enjoyed the build-up for the next entry, whenever that will be. I haven't been disappointed yet by this author.

Overall Series Re-Read Review June 2020:
As I said previously, Dangerous Ground was the second Josh Lanyon reading after her Adrien English series and I absolutely loved Will and Taylor.  Equals, friends, partners, lovers.  They truly are everything to each other, throw in the job and the cases(mysteries as they tend to find trouble even on vacation) and it's just all around brilliant storytelling.  I may not re-read this series as often as my annual revisit of her Adrien English series, I will never tire of Will & Taylor.  They are captivating, mesmerizing, intriguing, and just plain wonderfully fun even when the danger is high and they aren't necessarily on the same page they still have each other in mind.  As I said, I will never tire of Will Brandt and Taylor MacAllister and their brilliant journey.

RATING:

Taylor yanked the wheel, pulling over to the side of the road. The car bumped over rough ground onto the narrow shoulder, and rolled to a stop. He cut the engine and turned to Grant who, even in the enveloping woodland darkness, he could feel watching him warily.

Taylor said, “You have something you want to say to me?”

“No, sir.” Funny how disrespectful “sir” could sound, depending on the tone and the expression.

“Sure you do,” Taylor said easily. “Let’s hear it.”

Grant unsnapped his seatbelt, shoved open his door and got out. “I’ll walk back,” he said, and slammed shut the door with all his force.

“Shit.” Taylor undid his seatbelt and opened the driver’s door. The night air was very cold and rich with the spicy scent of pine and earth.

He followed Grant who was moving fast, fueled by rage, and already several yards away. Grant’s compact silhouette stomped up the steep incline. Taylor loped after him.

“Do I really scare you that much?”

Grant rounded on him. “You don’t scare me at all.”

“Then why are you running away?”

“Because Will won’t like it when I kick your skinny ass from here to Portland.”

Taylor chuckled.

“You think that’s funny?”

He did, yeah. And the offended note in Grant’s voice struck him as even funnier, but Taylor didn’t want to escalate this any higher than necessary.

“Kind of. Don’t you? What are we really fighting about?”

“We’re not fighting. And we won’t fight so long as you stay the fuck away from me.”

“Only the problem is, we’re family now. So I can only stay so far the fuck away from you.”

“You’re not family! You’re just Will’s…friend. He’s not going to—you’re not going to be here forever.”

Ouch. Would it have been different for David Bradley? Taylor had to wonder. Bradley’s military background, even his size and looks, would probably have been more palatable to Grant.

“I wouldn’t bet on that. Why don’t you just tell me what the problem is.”

He could feel anger and frustration coming off Grant in waves. “You know what the problem is.”

“Sure. I have a pretty good idea, but why don’t we get it out in the open.” Taylor gestured at the towering trees and moonlit mountains. “It doesn’t get more open than this, right?”

He could feel Grant’s inward struggle. At last, Grant spat out, “You’re a queer.”

“I don’t like that word, but yep. I’m gay. And you have a problem with that.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you are,” Grant said. “I don’t care about you. I care about Will.”

“I understand that. But Will is who he is. He didn’t become gay for me. I didn’t make him gay.” Taylor’s sense of humor sparked back into life—did Grant think he’d forced Will to watch musicals? Eat quiche?—but he squelched it. This was serious because this angry young man was Will’s little brother and his feelings and opinions mattered to Will. Therefore they needed to matter to Taylor.

“He was never queer before.”

“He’s been queer for as long as I’ve known him.”

Grant made a sound of fury and launched himself at Taylor.

Taylor was ready. Mostly. He had known from the minute he forced Grant to go with him, this was probably going to happen. In fact, he had been pushing Grant into it. Even so, he’d had a long and exhausting day, and as Grant piled into him like a young bull charging a red cape, he felt a flicker of alarm.

He had underestimated his own weariness and stiffness. He had also underestimated Grant, who had been taught to fight by Will.

Grant tackled him low, burying his head in Taylor’s gut, wrapping his arms around Taylor’s knees, and Taylor, who relied on kicks and footwork to avoid getting thrown to the ground where his lack of weight was a dangerous liability, couldn’t maneuver. The wind was knocked out of him and he went down hard in the damp earth with Grant on top.

Worst case scenario. Thirty seconds in and he was about to be pinned in a double leg takedown his own sister could have avoided.

Instinct and adrenaline saved him. That and Grant’s unsportsmanlike attempt to knee him in the balls. Possibly a subconscious wish to neuter him, or maybe not subconscious, but Grant’s shift allowed Taylor to twist and bring his own knees up. He used his left forearm to trap both of Grant’s in an arm bar. That left his right hand free. Taylor swiveled, grappling under Grant’s legs, and throwing his left leg behind Grant’s neck. He was trying to pin Grant face down, but Grant knew that move and yanked out, rolling away to his knees.

Taylor let his own momentum carry him to his feet, and he scrambled ungracefully up. Standing, he was no longer vulnerable. He faced Grant who was upright again as well.

He needed to prevail here. It was that simple. Partly because he would not be able to live down the embarrassment of pushing for a fight he couldn’t win. Partly because with a young guy like Grant, winning was nine-tenths of the law. The law that said Might Makes Right. But he had to do it without seriously hurting Grant—and without letting Grant seriously hurt him. Because Will wouldn’t forgive either of them for seriously harming the other.

Now aware of his own limitations, Taylor waited, breathing hard, for Grant to charge back in—which he did, still too angry to be cautious, throwing a powerful right punch that would have taken out a rib or a lung had it connected. Yeah, that power strike was straight out of the Will Brandt book of hand-to-hand combat. Taylor deflected, grabbed Grant’s lapel and hauled him sideways while delivering a hard kick to the inner knee area of Grant’s weight bearing leg. He was careful not to take out Grant’s knee, but even so the strength and speed of that blow should have brought Grant down.

No such luck.

Saturday Series Spotlight

Josh Lanyon

Bestselling author of over sixty titles of classic Male/Male fiction featuring twisty mystery, kickass adventure and unapologetic man-on-man romance, JOSH LANYON has been called "the Agatha Christie of gay mystery."

Her work has been translated into eleven languages. The FBI thriller Fair Game was the first male/male title to be published by Harlequin Mondadori, the largest romance publisher in Italy. Stranger on the Shore (Harper Collins Italia) was the first M/M title to be published in print. In 2016 Fatal Shadows placed #5 in Japan's annual Boy Love novel list (the first and only title by a foreign author to place on the list).

The Adrien English Series was awarded All Time Favorite Male Male Couple in the 2nd Annual contest held by the Goodreads M/M Group (which has over 22,000 members). Josh is an Eppie Award winner, a four-time Lambda Literary Award finalist for Gay Mystery, and the first ever recipient of the Goodreads Favorite M/M Author Lifetime Achievement award.

Josh is married and they live in Southern California.

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Kick Start #5

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Dangerous Ground Series

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🌈🌻🌼📘🎥Friday's Film Adaptation🎥📘🌼🌻🌈: Spartacus by Howard Fast

Summary:

Spartacus, a fictionalization of a slave revolt in ancient Rome in 71 BC, is well known today because of the 1960 movie starring Kirk Douglas and Laurence Olivier. It was originally published in 1951 by Fast himself, after being turned down by every mainstream publisher of the day because of Fast's blacklisting for his Communist Party sympathies. The story of Spartacus, born a slave, trained as a gladiator, who led a slave revolt that was eventually put down by Crassus, was immensely popular, and went on to sell millions of copies. The reprinting of this title in the North Castle series brings back into print a book that many regard as a classic.

PART ONE 

How Caius Crassus journeyed along the highroad from Rome to Capua, in the month of May.

It is recorded that as early as the middle of the month of March, the highroad from the Eternal City, Rome, to the somewhat smaller but hardly less lovely town of Capua, was opened to public travel once again; but this is not to say that traffic upon this road immediately reverted to normal. For that matter, during the past four years no road in the Republic had known the peaceful and prosperous flow of commerce and person which was to be expected of a Roman road. More or less of disturbance had been encountered everywhere, and it would not be incorrect to say that the road between Rome and Capua had become symbolic of this disturbance. It was well said that as the roads go, so does Rome go; if the roads know peace and prosperity, so does the city know it.

The news was posted around the city that any free citizen having business in Capua might travel there to transact it, but for the time being travel for pleasure to that lovely resort was not encouraged. However, as time passed and sweet and gentle springtime settled down over the land of Italy, restrictions were lifted, and once again the fine buildings and splendid scenery of Capua called to the Romans.

In addition to the natural attractions of the Campania countryside, those who enjoyed fine perfume yet balked at inflated prices, found profit as well as pleasure in Capua. There were situated the great perfume factories, unequaled in the whole world; and to Capua were shipped the rare essences and oils from all over the earth, exotic and exquisite scents, Egyptian oil of roses, the essence of the lilies of Sheba, the poppies of Galilee, the oil of ambergris and of the rind of lemon and orange, the leaf of sage and mint, rose-wood and sandal-wood, and so forth and so on almost without end. Perfume at Capua could be purchased at less than half the price asked in Rome, and when one considers the growing popularity of scents in that time, for men as well as for women—and the necessity for them as well—one can understand that a trip to Capua for that, if for no other reason, might well be undertaken.

 

II

The road was opened in March, and two months later, in the middle of May, Caius Crassus and his sister, Helena, and her friend, Claudia Marius, set off to spend a week with relatives in Capua. They left Rome on the morning of a bright, clear and cool day, a perfect day for travel, all of them young and bright-eyed and full of delight in the trip and in the adventures which would certainly befall them. Caius Crassus, a young man of twenty-five, whose dark hair fell in abundant and soft ringlets and whose regular features had given him a reputation for good looks as well as good birth, rode a beautiful white Arabian horse, a birthday present from his father the year before, and the two girls travelled in open litters. Each litter was carried by four slaves who were road-broken and who could do ten miles at a smooth run without resting. They planned to spend five days on the road, putting up each evening at the country villa of a friend or relative, and this way, by easy and pleasant stages, to come to Capua. They knew before they started that the road was tokened with punishment, but they didn’t think it would be enough to disturb them. As a matter of fact, the girls were quite excited by the descriptions they had heard, and as for Caius, he always had a pleasant and somewhat sensuous reaction to such things, and he was also proud of his stomach and of the fact that such sights did not inordinately disturb him.

“After all,” he reasoned with the girls, “it is better to look at a crucifix than to be on one.”

“We shall look straight ahead,” Helena said.

She was better looking than Claudia who was blond but listless, pale skin and pale eyes and an air of fatigue which she nurtured. Her body was full and attractive, but Caius found her rather stupid and wondered what his sister saw in her—a problem he was determined to solve on this trip. He had several times before resolved to seduce his sister’s friend, and always the resolution had broken down before her listless disinterest, a disinterest not specific in terms of himself, but general. She was bored, and Caius was certain that only her boredom prevented her from being utterly boring. His sister was something else. His sister excited him in a fashion that troubled him; she was as tall as he, very similar to him in appearance—better looking if anything, and considered beautiful by men who were not fended away by her purpose and strength. His sister excited him, and he was conscious that in planning this trip to Capua, he hoped for some resolution of this excitement. His sister and Claudia made an odd but satisfying combination, and Caius looked forward to rewarding incidents on the journey.

A few miles outside of Rome, the tokens of punishment began. There was a place where the road crossed a little wasteland of rock and sand, a few acres in extent, and the person in charge of the exhibit had, with an eye for effect, chosen this particular spot for the first crucifix. The cross had been cut out of fresh new wood, pitch-bleeding pine, and since the ground fell away behind it, it stood stark and bare and angular against the morning sky, so huge and impressive—over-large, since it was the first—that one hardly noticed the naked body of the man who hung upon it. It stood slightly askew, as is so often the case with the top-heavy crucifix, and this added to its bizarre, demi-human quality. Caius drew up his horse, and then walked the animal toward the crucifix; and with a little flick of her courtesy quirt, Helena ordered the litter-slaves to follow.

“May we rest, oh mistress, oh mistress?” whispered the pace setter of Helena’s litter, when they came to a halt before the crucifix. He was a Spaniard, and his Latin was broken and wary.

“Of course,” said Helena. She was only twenty-three, but already of strong opinion, as all the women of her family were, and she despised senseless cruelty toward animals, whether slave or beast. Then the litter-bearers gently lowered the carriages, squatting gratefully beside them.

A few yards in front of the crucifix, on a straw chair shaded by a small, patched awning, sat a fat, amiable man of distinction and poverty. His distinction was manifest in each of his several chins and in the dignity of his huge paunch, and his poverty, not unmixed with sloth, was plainly evident by his poor and dirty clothes, his grimy finger nails and his stubble of beard. His amiability was the easily worn mask of the professional politician; and one could see at a glance that for years he had scavenged the Forum and the Senate and the wards as well. Here he was now, the last step before he became a beggar with only a mat in some Roman lodging house; yet his voice rolled out with the robust quackery of a barker at a fair. These were the fortunes of war, as he made plain to them. Some choose the right party with uncanny facility. He had always chosen the wrong one, and it was no use saying that essentially they were both the same. This is where it brought him, but better men fared less well.

“You will forgive me for not rising, my gentle sir and my gentle ladies, but the heart—the heart.” He put his hand on the great paunch in the general area. “I see you are out early, and early you should be out, since that is the time for travel. Capua?”

“Capua,” said Caius.

“Capua indeed—a lovely city, a beautiful city, a fair city, a veritable gem of a city. To visit relatives, no doubt?”

“No doubt,” answered Caius. The girls were smiling. He was amiable; he was a great clown. His dignity slipped away. Better to be a clown for these young people. Caius realized that there was money involved somewhere in these proceedings, but he didn’t mind. For one thing, he had never been denied money sufficient for all his needs or whims, and for another, he desired to impress the girls with his worldliness, and how better than through this worldly fat clown of a man?

“You see me a guide, a story teller, a small purveyor of bits of punishment and justice. Yet does a judge do more? The station is different, yet better to accept a denarius and the shame that goes with it than to beg—”

The girls couldn’t keep their eyes from the dead man who hung from the crucifix. He was directly above them now, and they kept darting glances at his naked, sun-blackened, bird-torn body. The crows swooped around him tentatively. The flies crawled on his skin. As he hung, his body leaning out and away from the cross, he seemed always to be falling, always in motion, a grotesque motion of the dead. His head hung forward, and his long, sandy hair covered what horror might have been in his face.

Caius gave the fat man a coin; the thanks was no more than what was due. The bearers squatted silently, never glancing at the crucifix, eyes on the ground; roadbroken they were, and well trained.

“This one is symbolic, so as to speak,” said the fat man. “Mistress mine, do not regard it as human or horrible. Rome gives and Rome takes, and more or less, the punishment fits the crime. This one stands alone and calls your attention to what will follow. Between here and Capua, do you know how many?”

They knew, but they waited for him to say it. There was a precision about this fat, jovial man who introduced them to what was unspeakable. He was proof that it was not unspeakable but ordinary and natural. He would give them an exact figure. It might not be right, but it would be precise.

“Six thousand, four hundred and seventy-two,” he said.

A few of the litter-bearers stirred. They were not resting, they were rigid. If anyone had regarded them, they would have noticed that. But no one regarded them.

“Six thousand, four hundred and seventy-two,” the fat man repeated. Caius made the right remark. “That much timber,” Caius said. Helena knew it was a fraud, but the fat man nodded appreciatively. Now they were en rapport. The fat man extracted a cane from the folds of his gown and gestured at the crucifix.

“That one—merely a token. A token of a token, so as to speak.”

Claudia giggled nervously.

“Nevertheless of interest and of importance. Set apart with reason. Reason is Rome and Rome is reasonable.” He was fond of maxims.

“Is that Spartacus?” Claudia asked foolishly, but the fat man found patience for her. The way he licked his lips proved that his paternal attitude was not unmixed with emotion, and Caius thought,

“The lecherous old beast.”

“Hardly Spartacus, my dear.”

“His body was never found,” Caius said impatiently.

“Cut to pieces,” the fat man said pompously. “Cut to pieces, my dear child. Tender minds for such dreadful thoughts, but that’s the truth of it—”

Claudia shuddered, but deliciously, and Caius saw a light in her eyes he had never noticed before. “Beware of superficial judgments,” his father had once said to him, and while his father had weightier matters in mind than estimation of women, it held. Claudia had never looked at him as she looked at the fat man now; and he continued,

“—the simple truth of it. And now they say Spartacus never existed. Hah! Do I exist? Do you exist? Are there or are there not six thousand, four hundred and seventy-two corpses hanging from crucifixes between here and Capua along the Appian Way? Are there or are there not? There are indeed. And let-me ask you another question, my young folk—why so many? A token of punishment is a token of punishment. But why six thousand, four hundred and seventy-two?”

“The dogs deserved it,” Helena answered quietly.

“Did they?” The fat man raised a sophisticated brow. He was a man of the world, he made plain to them, and if they were higher in station, they were younger enough in years to be impressed. “Perhaps they did, but why butcher so much meat if one can’t eat it? I’ll tell you. Keeps the price up. Stabilizes things. And most of all, decides some very delicate questions of ownership. There you have the answer in a nutshell. Now this one here—” gesturing with his cane, “—have a good look at him. Fairtrax, the Gaul, most important, most important. A close man to Spartacus, yes, indeed, and I watched him die. Sitting right here, I watched him die. It took four days. Strong as an ox. My, oh my, you would never believe such strength. Never believe it at all. I have my chair here from Sextus, of the Third Ward. You know him? A gentleman—a very great gentleman, and well disposed toward me. You’d be surprised how many people came out to watch, and it was something well worth watching. Not that I could charge them a proper fee—but people give if you give them something in return. Fair measure for fair measure. I took the trouble to inform myself. You’d be surprised what profound ignorance there is here and there about, concerning the wars of Spartacus. Now see here, this young lady, she asks me, is that one Spartacus? A natural question, but wouldn’t it be exceedingly unnatural if it was so. You gentle ones live a sheltered life, very sheltered, otherwise the young lady would have known that Spartacus was cut up so that not hair nor hide of him was ever found. Quite different with this one—he was taken. Cut up a little, true—see here—”

With his cane, he traced a long scar on the side of the body above him.

“Number of scars—and most interesting. Side or front. None in the back. You don’t want to stress such details for the rabble, but I can tell you as a matter of fact—”

The litter-bearers were watching him now and listening, their eyes gleaming out of their long, matted hair.

“—that these were the best soldiers that ever walked on Italian soil. Bears thinking about, something like that. Come back to our friend up here. Took four days for him to die, and it would have taken a good deal longer if they hadn’t opened a vein and bled him a bit. Now you may not know that, but you got to do it when you put them on the cross. Either you bleed them or they swell up like a bloater. And if you bleed them properly, then they dry properly and they can hang up there for maybe a month with no more offense than a little bit of smell. Just like curing a piece of meat, and you want plenty of sunshine to help it along. Now this was a fierce one, all right, defiant, proud—but he lost it. First day, he hung up there and cursed out every decent citizen who came along to watch. Frightful, foul language; you wouldn’t want any ladies around to hear such language. Comes of no breeding, and a slave is a slave, but I bore him no ill will. Here I was and there he was, and now and then I’d say to him, Your misfortune is my fortune, and while yours may not be the most comfortable way to die, mine is by no means the most comfortable way to earn a living. And precious little I’ll earn, you keep up that kind of talk. Didn’t seem to move him much, one way or another, but toward evening of the second day, he closed up. Clammed up, tight as a trap. Do you know what was the last thing he said?”

“What?” whispered Claudia.

“I will return and I will be millions. Just that. Fanciful, isn’t it?

“What did he mean?” Caius wondered. In spite of himself, the fat man had woven a spell over him.

“Now what did he mean, young sir? I have no more idea than you have, and he never spoke again either. I poked him up a little the next day, but he never said a word, just looked at me out of those bloodshot eyes of his, looked at me like he could kill me, but he wasn’t for killing anything else. So you see, my dear,” addressing Claudia again, “he wasn’t Spartacus, but was one of his lieutenants and a hard man. Close to Spartacus, but not so hard. That was a hard one, was Spartacus, hard indeed. You would not like to meet him along this highroad and never will neither, for he’s dead and rotting. Now what else would you like to know?”

“I think we’ve heard enough,” Caius said, regretting the denarius now. “We must be on our way.”

The slave Spartacus survives brutal training as a gladiator and leads a violent revolt against the decadent Roman Republic, as the ambitious Crassus seeks to gain power by crushing the uprising.

Release Date: October 6, 1960

Release Time: 197 minutes

Director: Stanley Kubrick

Cast:

Kirk Douglas as Spartacus

Laurence Olivier as Crassus

Jean Simmons as Varinia

Charles Laughton as Gracchus

Peter Ustinov as Batiatus

John Gavin as Julius Caesar

Nina Foch as Helena Glabrus

John Ireland as Crixus

Herbert Lom as Tigranes Levantus

John Dall as Marcus Publius Glabrus

Charles McGraw as Marcellus

Joanna Barnes as Claudia Marius

Harold J. Stone as David

Woody Strode as Draba

Peter Brocco as Ramon

Paul Lambert as Gannicus

Robert J. Wilke as Guard Captain

Nicholas Dennis as Dionysius

John Hoyt as Caius

Frederic Worlock as Laelius

Tony Curtis as Antoninus

Awards:

33rd Academy Awards - April 17, 1961

Best Supporting Actor - Peter Ustinov - Won

Best Art Direction–Color - Alexander Golitzen, Eric Orbom, Russell A. Gausman and Julia Heron - Won

Best Cinematography–Color - Russell Metty - Won

Best Costume Design–Color - Arlington Valles and Bill Thomas - Won

Best Film Editing - Robert Lawrence - Nominated

Best Music Score of a Dramatic or Comedy Picture - Alex North - Nominated

14th BAFTAs - 1961

Best Film - Stanley Kubrick - Nominated

18th Golden Globes - March 16, 1961

Best Motion Picture–Drama - Won

Best Actor in a Motion Picture–Drama - Laurence Olivier - Nominated

Best Supporting Actor–Motion Picture - Woody Strode - Nominated

Best Supporting Actor–Motion Picture - Peter Ustinov - Nominated

Best Director–Motion Picture - Stanley Kubrick - Nominated

Best Original Score–Motion Picture - Alex North - Nominated

AFIs 100 Years . . . 

100 Thrills (2001) - #62

100 Heroes and Villains (2003) - Spartacus - #22 Hero

100 Cheers (2006) - #44

100 Movies (10th Anniversary Edition) (2007) - #81

AFI's 10 Top 10 (2008) - #5 Epic Film

Notes:

From Wikipedia:

Among the deleted footage was a bath scene in which the Roman patrician and general Crassus attempts to seduce his slave Antoninus, speaking about the analogy of "eating oysters" and "eating snails" to express his opinion that sexual preference is a matter of taste rather than morality. The four-minute scene had been removed following an objection by the National Legion of Decency. When the film was restored (two years after Olivier's death), the original dialogue recording of this scene was missing; it had to be redubbed. Tony Curtis, by then 66, was able to re-record his part, but Crassus' voice was an impersonation of Olivier by Anthony Hopkins.

Howard Fast

Howard Fast (1914–2003) was one of the most prolific American writers of the twentieth century. He was a bestselling author of more than eighty works of fiction, nonfiction, poetry, and screenplays. The son of immigrants, Fast grew up in New York City and published his first novel upon finishing high school in 1933. In 1950, his refusal to provide the United States Congress with a list of possible Communist associates earned him a three-month prison sentence. During his incarceration, Fast wrote one of his best-known novels, Spartacus (1951). Throughout his long career, Fast matched his commitment to championing social justice in his writing with a deft, lively storytelling style.

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