The Sand Vines by Michele Callard

The Details:

Book
Title: The Sand Vines

Series:
The Vine Saga

Author:
Michèle CALLARD

Publication
Date: 01 May 2024

Publisher:
Millefeuille Press

Page
Length: 400

Genre:
Historical fiction 

Blurb:

Bordeaux 1870 – Life is hard on
the moor.

If Flore, a shepherd’s daughter, is not
married by autumn, she must go into service and lose everything she holds dear. 

Back from the French army, the dashing
Ricar has set her heart and body on fire. Will he propose to her before it is
too late? 

Martial the viscount’s son adores Flore
from afar. Aware that she can never be his. When a betrayal and a forest fire
put Flore in danger, Martial seizes his chance, grabs her hand and takes her to
safety far away in the north of France, hoping they might start afresh, but war
looms. . . 

Will it bring them together or
tear them apart? 

Buy Links: 

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The Excerpt: 

Bateau-Mouche on the Seine    

After a quick lunch taken
in reflective silence, Martial sat next to Flore on a Bateau-Mouche they had
boarded near Notre Dame, the boats yet another of the emperor’s schemes to
improve circulation through his beloved Paris. It was a blustery day, but
inside the space was warm and dry.

          ‘May I ask you a question?’ Flore asked as the
Bateau-Mouche steamed towards a medieval edifice of blackened stone and slate.

          ‘Of course.’ A smile lifted the corner of his lips. The
elegant Parisienne he had tried to create had obviously been a step too far.
With the money he had lent her, Flore had purchased ready-made garments that
suited both her country accent and simple manners much better.

          ‘What kind of work do you think I could to do in—Utopia? I
mean, I can stuff a goose and skin a rabbit, but these aren’t exactly skills
that are useful in a town, though I’m quite good at counting money. What kind
of place is it?’

          ‘I’m not quite sure, but it really is vast, and I imagine,
well, yes, there should definitely be—opportunities.’ Diou biban, what
could he say?

          The boat veered to one side, narrowly avoiding a huge coal
barge. Angry hoots covered Flore’s reply. Something about a shop.        

Martial settled deeper
into his seat with a sigh of content and breathed in a long draft of river air.
‘Look over there, the Louvre is coming up.’

‘What if there isn’t any
work for me in—what’s the name of the place again?’

‘Guise,’ Martial answered,
marvelling at the Louvre the emperor had turned into a museum. ‘Would you like
to visit a museum? If so, we should get off at the next stop. Is it something
you would like to do?’

‘Yes.’ Flore gave a
serious nod.

‘Then we should get off
here.’ Martial pushed himself up and held out a hand.

‘Huh? I thought we were
going all the way to the Champs Elysées?’

‘You just told me that you
wanted to visit the Louvre Museum.’

Flore gave him a puzzled
look.

Had they been talking at
cross purposes? Did Flore even understand the concept of a museum? Martial sat
down again, about to explain, when Flore spoke, following her own train of
thought. ‘If I can’t find a position, what will I do then, all alone in the
north?’

 ‘But you won’t be alone. I’ll be there. Don’t
worry. I’m sure that Monsieur Godin will’

‘But what if he doesn’t? I
really think it’s best for me to stay in Paris.’

‘Stay in Paris?’ Suddenly,
the river lost all its appeal. The flatboats slipping by, the sprawling
Tuileries, the huge horses pulling barges along the banks vanished from
Martial’s field of vision, reduced to one person, calmly proposing to disappear
from his life.

‘Minnie will find me
something.’

‘Minnie?’

‘The American dancer who
lives in the room below mine,’ Flore insisted. ‘I mentioned her to you. She
knows people, both in her theatre and in the mattress shop next to it. Rue
Trévise, perhaps you’ve heard of it. It’s called—’

‘Wait.’ Martial swallowed
hard, his carefully laid plans tumbling around him like a house of cards. This
simply could not be. He could not let her go. It would mean losing his Émile,
the female counterpart to Rousseau’s guileless pupil. She was so bright, and
with just a little guidance, she could achieve so much. Without Flore, the
whole utopian experiment would make no sense. Life would make no sense. His
hands hovered next to hers. Unable to touch her, he took off his hat and
kneaded the rim. ‘Listen, Paris is a dangerous place for a girl on her own. If
anything happened to you, I would never forgive myself.’ He stared at his hat
and replaced it on his head.

Flore turned away, her
gaze on the columns of the Palais Bourbon. Although they had reached their
stop, neither of them moved. Martial’s heart slowed down to the heavy chug of
the wheel. Lost in a strange fog, he found himself praying to the very God he had
forsaken, praying for his turmoil to end.

‘This is what we will do,’
he said in a tired voice. ‘If Monsieur Godin cannot find you a position, I will
personally bring you back to Paris.’ 

Author Bio:

Michèle Callard grew up in France. A country girl at
heart, she swapped her Paris flat for a cottage in rural England where she
lives with her Irish husband and the youngest of her three sons. 

She writes fast-paced novels set in different regions
of France, bursting with authentic characters, colours, flavours and history. 

Author Links: 

Website: https://michelecallard.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/michelecallardauthor

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Bub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/michele-callard

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Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Michèle-CALLARD/author/B09WRT58ZT

Goodreads:
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