Threads In The Tapestry

In the time of King Henry VIII and the Inquisition, at the height of the Renaissance and the great holy wars between East and West, a Christian, a Muslim, and a Jew worked together to save thousands from death.

Agata always dreamed of getting married. Growing up in a small Slavic village meant she might not have a great house or a fine tower to live in, but she'd have children and happiness, and she could make her mark on the world.

Those dreams are torn away when she is kidnapped and enslaved. But Agata is still determined to weave a life of happiness for herself. As she navigates an unfamiliar culture and country, she rises to a position greater than she had ever dared hope for—giving her the power to change the world.

Across the continent, Graçia is a widow too soon, fending off far too many marriage proposals for herself and her daughter. Every monarch in Europe wants a piece of the largest fortune in the world, but Graçia is determined to use her enormous wealth to make a difference by continuing the clandestine underground movement her husband began.

And when the richest woman in the world and the greatest Sultana of the Ottoman court finally meet, they hatch their grandest plan yet.

How many people could they save? What could they build? What mark could they make on the world…if the world would let them?

Excerpts From Review from Historical Fiction Company

By setting the book in the time of King Henry VIII and the Inquisition, and at the height of the 
Renaissance and the great holy wars between East and West, Dahmen gives the reader three 
systems of power at once. This choice makes the characters' choices play out against a field of 
total danger rather than a single villain. That's structural brilliance, a brilliance that makes the 
reader feel there is nowhere safe to stand. It also makes the characters' defiance feel historically 
weighted. The result is a reading experience of constant pressure, which is exactly what the 
reader needs from a novel with survival as a major theme. In a book like this, comfort is the 
enemy of stakes, and Dahmen's brilliance prevents that collapse, keeping the premise urgent and 
alive.
You don't usually get suspense- the kind that comes from watching a plan executed under threat 
of discovery, moral unease- the kind that comes from enjoying a coercion you should condemn, 
and historical weight- the kind that comes from knowing the women's choices were made against
hostile systems, all in one sitting. Here you do. You leave satisfied that the characters acted, and 
burdened by what it cost them. But you also come back for the reread, because the burden part 
stays open, and because the scenes you thought you understood now read differently.