It was a warm, clear summer sky over the trail to the private garden of one of the monasteries in the south of France. During the hour following lunch and prayers, many of the clergy would tend to the garden.
Among the meticulously cared for roses were statues so lifelike it felt as though they would turn and move at any moment. Saints with upturned eyes gazing infinitely into heaven were accompanied by angels with open wings playing with doves in the small ponds that trickled with the sounds of the fountain centered in it. Rows and rows of flowers teased the senses. The aroma was not one that could easily be forgotten as each breeze brought about another waft of fragrance released from the petals that waved gently on the air…….
The Prologue and First Chapter can now be found on http://www.unsaintly.com
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