Italy, 1620.
Angelo is an orphan, lonely and forgotten. Having been passed on from one family to the next, he ends up as a common thief, subject to and under the thumb of a ruthless robber called Tozzo.
Angelo knows no other life and has lost hope that any chance of providence will ever replace his lonely, misfortunate existence. When he loses his master, his livelihood is shaken. Tozzo’s plunder is hidden in a safe place, but what will happen if someone comes after Angelo to get their hands on the stolen relics? More than that, he feels threatened by words he’s heard too many times; that he’ll always remain unforgiven and doomed.
One day, a priest invites Angelo to help with chores around the church and rectory and, in exchange, offers him room and board. Padre Benedetto’s kindness and respect are unfamiliar and confusing, but Angelo’s safety is still a grave concern. Two older robbers have heard rumors about the hidden treasures and will stop at nothing to attain them.
With literary depictions and imagery, Angelo’s story is a gripping and emotional journey of faint hope and truth in seventeenth-century Italy—an artistic and audacious tale that crosses paths with art collector Vincenzo Giustiniani and the powerful Medici family.
Publication Date: 18th November 2025
Publisher: Independently Published
Page Length: 162
Genre: Historical Fiction
Review
If you’ve ever wanted a story that draws you deep into a world of survival, moral choices, and the quiet but fierce power of human kindness, The Relic Keeper is the perfect read. From the very first page, I was pulled into Angelo’s harsh, precarious life. He’s not a polished hero — he’s a boy shaped by circumstance, forced to steal relics for the cruel and cunning Tozzo, and navigating a world that seems determined to keep him down. And yet, despite the shadows surrounding him, Angelo is clever, wary, and quietly searching for a way to rise above the life he’s been handed.
What makes this story truly compelling is the presence of Padre Benedetto. The priest isn’t a dramatic saviour; he’s steady, patient, and quietly transformative. From the moment he enters Angelo’s life, he offers guidance, shelter, and trust instead of judgement. It’s through Benedetto’s calm wisdom and unwavering kindness that Angelo begins to see that his past doesn’t define him — his choices do. Watching their relationship grow felt so heartwarming, and I found myself cheering for Angelo’s small victories as he learns to trust, hope, and even forgive.
Angelo’s journey to Rome adds another layer of wonder and discovery. Experiencing the city through his eyes — the bustling streets, the unfamiliar sounds, and the richness of new possibilities — makes his growth feel vivid and real. Visiting Gerrit van Honthorst’s studio and seeing Adoration of the Christ Child through Angelo’s perspective is one of the story’s most striking moments. His unguarded reaction to the painting shows how beauty and art can reach even the most guarded heart, opening doors to emotions and understanding he has never allowed himself before.
Eljarbo’s writing is immersive without being overwhelming. The story moves at a thoughtful pace that allows Angelo’s growth to feel earned and believable. Even the quieter moments carry weight — the choices, the doubts, and the small acts of courage all feel vital to the story. There’s tension, moral struggle, and occasional danger, but the book never loses sight of its heart: the transformative power of patience, kindness, and human connection.
The Relic Keeper is a tender, emotionally rich, and deeply satisfying read. It blends historical context, personal growth, and small but profound moments of hope into a story that lingers long after the final page. Angelo’s journey, guided by the quiet brilliance of Padre Benedetto, is unforgettable. If you enjoy historical fiction with heart, depth, and hope woven throughout, this is one you won’t want to miss.
Five Stars




Thank you so much for your fabulous five-star review and for hosting a stop on the blog tour. Your support is very much appreciated.
ReplyDelete