1
/
of
1
Anatole MacEllas
A Monk's Progress
A Monk's Progress
Regular price
$1.99 USD
Regular price
Sale price
$1.99 USD
Shipping calculated at checkout.
Quantity
Couldn't load pickup availability
The year is 1762, and novice monk André Boulin des Barres spends his days and nights among brothers, transcribing ancient texts at a remote monastery in the nameless woods of Ambronay—a far cry from the opulent life he left behind as the son of a noble family.
He often thinks of Julian Artaugn, his childhood best friend, now living a hedonist aristocrat’s life in the court of Louis XV at Versailles, and relishes his irreverent letters.
When Julian visits the abbey, André is elated to find that their bond is as strong as ever, but he soon finds that he’s not the only one whose eyes have been opened to new experiences.
And while some things about Julian may have changed, his charm and persuasive nature have not…
This stand-alone novelette is the prelude to a series.
“I see your breath quicken, André. Shall I tell you what I know of Zeus?”
I looked away, for I could bring myself to do nothing else; I could not, somehow, bring myself to shake my head. Julian was before me in an instant, if that, and he moved well, like a combatant. I recalled his skill at sparring, how deft with a foil. He had always bested me.
He was laughing, charmed by my discomfiture.
“Tell me, André—” and though he did not touch me, a shudder passed through my frame. “—Shall I speak to you of unspeakable things?”
He often thinks of Julian Artaugn, his childhood best friend, now living a hedonist aristocrat’s life in the court of Louis XV at Versailles, and relishes his irreverent letters.
When Julian visits the abbey, André is elated to find that their bond is as strong as ever, but he soon finds that he’s not the only one whose eyes have been opened to new experiences.
And while some things about Julian may have changed, his charm and persuasive nature have not…
This stand-alone novelette is the prelude to a series.
“I see your breath quicken, André. Shall I tell you what I know of Zeus?”
I looked away, for I could bring myself to do nothing else; I could not, somehow, bring myself to shake my head. Julian was before me in an instant, if that, and he moved well, like a combatant. I recalled his skill at sparring, how deft with a foil. He had always bested me.
He was laughing, charmed by my discomfiture.
“Tell me, André—” and though he did not touch me, a shudder passed through my frame. “—Shall I speak to you of unspeakable things?”
Share
