By Miguel Mena
Dos hermanos con graves apuros económicos secuestran por blunders al obispo de Tarazona. Su huida por el Moncayo y las montañas de los alrededores se convertirá en una aventura en los angeles que tendrán que luchar con un rehén respondón y con su propia torpeza como delincuentes. Una periodista, convencida de que éste es el caso de su vida, complicará un poco más las cosas.
Bendita Calamidad es una novela de humor, de ritmo trepidante, en los angeles que se citan el misterio y l. a. diversión junto a una galería de personajes tan cómicos como entrañables.
Miguel Mena (Madrid, 1959) dwell en Zaragoza y trabaja como locutor de radio. Ha publicado novelas, relatos y libros de viajes.
Entre otras obras, es autor de Bendita calamidad (1994), El escondite inglés (1997) y Cambio de marcha (2000), tres novelas, con las que ha obtenido un gran éxito, publicadas en l. a. colección Alba Joven. Además, es autor de Una nube de periodistas (2001), 1863 paso (2005), Días sin tregua (2006) y Piedad (2008).
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Extra resources for Bendita calamidad
We took over the l and and the factories and got rid of the bl oodsuckers . \Vhen you grow big, never forget that your daddy was once a sol dier and that for four years he shed his bl ood for the commune, for justice. I'll be dead by then, and Lenin too, but our deeds will l ive on through the ages. Whe n you grow up you'll fight for the Soviet government l ike your ol d man did. " Mishka cried, and jumped up on th e bed, mean ing to throw himsel f on his father's neck. But he forgot his grandfather l ying there near him and stepped on his stomach.
I t was some distance from the squ are to his hu t. By the time Mishka reached the gate he was ou t of breath. He drew off his trou sers as he ran throu gh the gate, and, his 51 bare legs gleaming in the sunlight, he burst into the hut. " Not a sound could be heard inside. A black swarm of flies was buzzing around the stove. M ishka ran into the yard, to the barn, and into the orchard, but couldn't find his mother, his father, or his grandfather. He rushed back into the best room where a sack caught his eye .
The sun set, the herd came home through the village, the dust settled after they had passed, and the first pale star peeked down shyly from the darkening sky. M ishka was dying of impatience, but his mother seemed almost on purpose to spend too lon g a time fussing with the cow, straining the milk, and when she went down into the cellar, she s tayed there what seemed like a whole hour. M ishka clung to her like a burr. " "It's not time yet, you fidget. " But M ishka was determined. He wouldn' t move one step from her side.