What had followed was weeks of pondering the question. Vain glimpses of how Enchanteur had moved both of them in just such a way the very first time they had met. Fruitless efforts of trying to move herself. Breaking down the whole process of how she could move things, such as chopping the wood consumed daily in the cooking fires without lifting a finger, or washing her dresses, her body, her hair daily as Enchanteur had made her in the old days, all without bothering to move a muscle, yet not at all able to move herself. Finally, in the midst of one lazy winter afternoon, as she was idly tracing patterns in the falling mist, it had dawned on her that a little assist might be needed. She had stood and– long having learned the virtue of using baby steps to climb lofty summits– turned slowly in the mist as she willed her mind to move her just a few feet away. She had turned and turned and turned until she was sick to her stomach. After vomiting in the mist, now turning into a light rain, however, she merely kept at it. How many glasses had turned who could say? Only that she had stayed there, turning, vomiting, turning, vomiting until the afternoon had become evening had become night.
It was just before dawn that it had happened. She abruptly realized that she had moved herself. Not really understanding why, then, she sat down and cried. After a while, utterly exhausted, she dragged herself upstairs and collapsed into her bed. Awakening, however, she stuffed some cold porridge, dried several days old in her mouth and got back at it. She had practiced all day and the many days following until she had finally gotten it down to a movement as casual as tossing her hair out of her eyes. That she was dissolving and reappearing– rather than actually moving– had dawned on her quite early when she had seen a butterfly actually pushed out of the way by her appearance. Right in front of her eyes. The butterfly had blithely fluttered on to another bloom in the garden which magically seemed to flower all year round. Why this was so– why she was dissolving, rather than moving– she decided to simply accept. After all, she accepted the garden blooming all year round. Just as she accepted the rain, moonlight, and birdsong.
Besides, she already knew what Enchanteur would say about it. That she was reweaving the fabric of the world around her, as everyone did, just a little more expeditiously. Finally, remembering her classical Greek studies that Enchanteur had made her learn, she named her spell Aeiliope, a turn on the ancient word for whirlwind. Having named the spell, she was learning, reciting it helped focus her mind to actually cast it. Her mind was usually such a whirlwind anyway, she knew she needed the focus.
In any case, it quickly became her favorite way of moving about the Tower. Why bother with stairs when you didn’t need them? The floorways were closed after that.
Looking at the mud-stained, merde-stinking farm boy in front of her, however, she realized with a sigh– while reaching for some cream that would soothe the pain in his eyes– she would have to open the floorways again.
As long as he stayed, anyway.
END OF CHAPTER ONE – Chateau of Passion
Chateau of Passion has an expected publication date of November 15, 2017. Check Amazon at that time. Or, let me email you directly with the news when you sign up for my News and New Releases Newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/cU-cgH.
Thank you so much for reading Chateau of Longing. I hope you enjoyed it. Before you close this book, if you’re reading it on a Kindle, you will see a way to rate Chateau of Longing. You can even write a review, no matter what format you’re reading it on! That would be so great. You can also share your comments on Facebook (facebook.com/monicabentleyromance). If you enjoyed the story, I would greatly appreciate you taking a few moments to let other readers know.
With gratitude,
Monica
Copyright © 2017 Monica Bentley
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events and locales is entirely coincidental. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the uses of brief quotations in a book review.
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Who Is Monica Bentley?
I spend my mornings covered to the neck, wrist, and ankle watching all those hard asses and harder abs walk by out of the corner of my eye at a conservative construction firm. Then, I go home and smother my babies with kisses after school.
In between, I dream up all-consuming stories that let you escape to exotic lands far away and exciting adventures with a healthy splash of steamy sex guaranteed to make a girl’s knees weak.
If you like triple-cream brie stories that slowly melt on the tongue, you’ll like mine. All the sex a girl can handle, sometimes raw and raunchy, sometimes sweet and gentle. Hunky and hard alpha males softly sweeping up innocent girls (who can be bad, too!) in a breath-taking romance that ends in HEA.
Go to MonicaBentley.com for all the details!
If you liked Chateau of Longing you’ll love Monica Bentley’s prequel to
The Chateau of Love series
Tower of Lust
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