Publisher Description

Journalist Michael Wilde—his world recently shattered by tragedy—has come to the South Pole looking for solace and a new lease on life. But what he finds on a routine dive in the polar sea is something else entirely: the bodies of a young man and a young woman, bound with chains and sealed forever in a block of ice. Beside them is an ancient chest filled with a sinister cargo. Wilde's search to unravel the mystery of this doomed couple will lead from the battlefields of the Crimean War to the unexplored depths of the Antarctic Ocean, where an age-old curse survives to this day. And as the ice around the lovers begins to melt, Wilde will witness what may be a miracle—or a nightmare—in the making.  What is dead, it turns out, is not always gone.

Author Biography

Robert Masello is an award-winning journalist, a television writer, and the author of many other books, most recently the supernatural thrillers Vigil (which appeared on the USA Today bestseller list) and Bestiary. His articles and essays have appeared often in such publications as the Los Angeles Times, New York Magazine, People, and Parade, and his nonfiction book, Robert's Rules of Writing, has become a staple in many college classrooms. His produced television credits include such popular shows as Charmed, Sliders, and Early Edition. A longstanding member of the Writers Guild of America, he lives in Santa Monica, California.

Review

"Robert Masello is a true master at blending cutting edge science, historical intrigue, and riveting thrills, and Blood and Ice is a riotous mix of history, cryogenics, vampirism, and a chilling adventure set in the Antarctic. Park in front of a warm fire and prepare to read this in one sitting!" – James Rollins, author of The Last Oracle

"This fascinating adventure on The Ice really captures the feeling you sometimes get down there, that anything can happen. The science, romance and danger of Antarctica are all well conveyed, and merge into the thrill that is the true Antarctic experience."—Kim Stanley Robinson, author of Antarctica

"A stunning thriller!  With a its fascinating characters, harsh, Polar terrain, and riveting action sequences, Blood and Ice will chill you to the bone."—Lisa Gardner, author of Say Goodbye

"There is nothing better than reading a novel that exceeds all the hype.  Blood and Ice is a spectacular thriller, an epic adventure that crosses genres, the world, history and time . . . I've never finished a book faster." – Richard Doetsch, author of Thieves of Heaven

"[An] exceptional supernatural thriller…. The thrills and, most decidedly, the chills mount."—Publishers Weekly, starred review

Review Quote

"Robert Masello is a true master at blending cutting edge science, historical intrigue, and riveting thrills, andBlood and Iceis a riotous mix of history, cryogenics, vampirism, and a chilling adventure set in the Antarctic. Park in front of a warm fire and prepare to read this in one sitting!" James Rollins, author ofThe Last Oracle "This fascinating adventure on The Ice really captures the feeling you sometimes get down there, that anything can happen. The science, romance and danger of Antarctica are all well conveyed, and merge into the thrill that is the true Antarctic experience."-Kim Stanley Robinson, author ofAntarctica "A stunning thriller! With a its fascinating characters, harsh, Polar terrain, and riveting action sequences,Blood and Icewill chill you to the bone."-Lisa Gardner, author ofSay Goodbye "There is nothing better than reading a novel that exceeds all the hype. Blood and Iceis a spectacular thriller, an epic adventure that crosses genres, the world, history and time . . . I've never finished a book faster." Richard Doetsch, author ofThieves of Heaven "[An] exceptional supernatural thriller…. The thrills and, most decidedly, the chills mount."-Publishers Weekly, starred review From the Hardcover edition.

Excerpt from Book

Chapter One Present Day November 19, noon the doorbell was ringing, and even though Michael heard it, he did not want to wake up; the dream he was in was too comforting. Kristin was with him, and they were driving in his Jeep on a mountain road. She had her bare feet up on the dashboard, the radio was blasting, and she was laughing, her head held back, her blond hair blowing in the wind from the open window. The doorbell rang again, a series of short bursts. Whoever it was wasn''t going away. Michael lifted his head from the pillow--why was there an empty bag of Doritos next to his face?--and glanced at the lighted numerals on the clock--11:59. And then, even as he rubbed his eyes, it flicked over to noon. The doorbell, again. Michael threw the blanket back, dropped his feet onto the floor. "Yeah, yeah, hold your horses," he mumbled. He grabbed a bathrobe off the back of the door and shuffled out of the bedroom. Through the opaque glass in the front door, he could see a shape--somebody in a hooded parka--standing on the stoop. Michael moved closer. "I can see you, too, Michael. Now open the door--it''s freezing out here." It was Joe Gillespie, his editor at Eco-Travel Magazine. Michael turned the bolt and opened the door. A cold rain spattered against his bare legs as his visitor hustled in. "Remind me to get a job on the Miami Herald next time," Gillespie said, stamping his feet. Michael picked a sodden copy of the Tacoma News Tribune from the stoop, then gazed off at the shrouded peaks of the Cascade range in the distance. That was why he''d originally bought the house--for the view. Now it was just an awful reminder. He gave the paper a shake and closed the door. Gillespie was standing on the threadbare hook rug--the one Kristin had made--with water dripping from his parka. He brushed the hood back, and what was left of his hair fuzzed out around his head. "You ever check your e-mails anymore?" Gillespie asked. "Or maybe your answering machine?" "Not if I can help it." Gillespie blew out a frustrated sigh and looked around the messy living room. "Jesus, Michael, do you own stock in Domino''s? You ought to." Michael did note a couple of pizza boxes, and some empty beer bottles, scattered around the coffee table and stone hearth. "Get dressed," Gillespie said. "We''re going to lunch." Michael, still barely conscious, just stood there with the wet paper in his hand. "Come on, I''m paying." Michael said, "Give me five," tossed the paper to Gillespie, and went to get started. "Take ten," Gillespie shouted after him. "Throw in a shave and shower." Michael took him at his word. In the bathroom, he switched on the space heater--the house was always cold and drafty, and though he often swore to himself that one day he''d do some insulating and basic maintenance, that day never came--and turned on the hot water. It would take a minute or two to get warm. The medicine chest above the sink was open, and half a dozen orange prescription bottles sat on the shelves. He grabbed the one on the bottom shelf--the latest antidepressant the therapist had prescribed--and downed a tablet with a handful of the now-tepid water. Then, much as he dreaded the prospect, he closed the cabinet and looked at himself in the mirror. His shaggy black hair was even more unruly than ever this morning, curling off his head on one side and mashed down flat on the other. His dark eyes were red-rimmed and cloudy. He hadn''t shaved in a couple of days and he could swear--was this possible?--that even though he had just turned thirty, a couple of the chin whiskers were coming in gray. Time''s winged chariot . . . damn. He slapped a fresh blade into the razor and made a few hasty swipes at his stubble. After a lukewarm shower, he put on some jeans, a denim work shirt, and the cleanest, driest pair of boots he could find by the front door. Gillespie was sprawled in his worn leather armchair, carefully peeling the pages of the newspaper away from each other. "I took the liberty of raising your blinds and letting in some light. You might try it sometime." They drove in Gillespie''s car--a Prius, of course--and went to the same diner they always did. Though there wasn''t much to recommend the place in the way of d

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