Archive for September 19, 2016

The Madonna of Notre Dame Banner

The Madonna Of Notre Dame

by Alexis Ragougneau

29363299

Release date: October 11, 2016
at New Vessel Press

ISBN: 978-1-939931-39-3
210 pages

Genre: Thriller

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My Review

This is a tangled thriller with a murder not easily solved.

A woman’s body is found in the ambulatory of the chapel, Our Lady Of Seven Sorrows. Seemingly, she’s been there for hours. No one realized she was dead.

Now, it’s a scramble to discover who killed her and what message they were sending by posing her body and leaving it at such a public venue.

I’m not familiar with the working of the Catholic faith so I found it fascinating to read a story that delves into the inner workings. And the translation to English was well done, the story flowed quickly.

This was unfamiliar territory, the church and the foreign setting, and I enjoyed the rich descriptions that helped me to visual and appreciate the beauty of such settings.

The intriguing cast of character’s, including the police and priests, made this a straight through read for me as I unraveled the clues and finally found out who killed the Madonna and why. I was surprised, yet not surprised. Surprised at who did it. Not so much as to why.

I’d recommend this to those who enjoy a tightly written thriller with a good dash of mystery.

4 Stars

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Synopsis

Fifty thousand believers and photo-hungry tourists jam into Notre Dame Cathedral on August 15 to celebrate the Feast of the Assumption. The next morning, a stunningly beautiful young woman clothed all in white kneels at prayer in a cathedral side chapel. But when an American tourist accidentally bumps against her, her body collapses. She has been murdered: the autopsy reveals disturbing details. Police investigators and priests search for the killer as they discover other truths about guilt and redemption in this soaring Paris refuge for the lost, the damned, and the saved. The suspect is a disturbed young man obsessed with the Virgin Mary who spends his days hallucinating in front of a Madonna. But someone else knows the true killer of the white-clad daughter of Algerian immigrants. This thrilling novel illuminates shadowy corners of the world’s most famous cathedral, shedding light on good and evil with suspense, compassion and wry humor.

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Excerpt

A little farther, he greeted two cleaning women who were

finishing sweeping the north transept, hushed a group of Chinese

tourists whose cackling echoed through the cathedral, which was

otherwise still quiet at that time, then, pushing his cart, set off

along the black and white tiled floor of the ambulatory. That’s

when his colleague, the guard, came to mind. Immediately, he

saw her. Or rather, in the half light, he just made her out.

The bombshell was indeed there, at the very end of the

ambulatory, perfectly still, alone, as though delicately placed on

the bench outside the chapel of Our Lady of the Seven Sorrows.

Gérard approached and started emptying the nearest candle

rack. The few candles lit by the first visitors of the day spread

more shadow than light, so that what he was able to distinguish

was a form rather than a body, a profile rather than a face. She

was wearing a short white dress made of such sheer fabric it followed

closely every curve, every bend in her flesh. Her black

hair, shimmering in places, cascaded over her neck and shoulders

like a river of silk. Her hands, joined in prayer like those

of a child, rested on her bare thighs. On her feet, held demurely

together under the bench like those of a schoolgirl, she had a

pair of high-heeled pumps so white and varnished that it was

futile to resist a glance. They underlined her slender ankles and

the contours of her calves.

Gérard lost himself in the contemplation of this stunning

figure, forgetting for a moment his boxes of candles, his cart, his

hassles, and the monotony of his work as sacristan. However, he

was soon interrupted by the crackle of a radio, the one he wore

at his belt, emitting his name.

“Guard to sacristan … Gérard? … Gérard, do you read me?”

“Yes, I can hear you. What do you want?”

“Did you go look?”

“I’m right here.”

“Is she still there?”

“Yes. Good as gold.”

 “And?”

“Definitely explosive … You were right.”

He put back his walkie-talkie with the guard’s laughter still

resounding from it, then, somewhat reluctantly, finished cleaning

out the candle rack. Behind him, a handful of worshippers

were already entering the chancel, where the nine o’clock

Mass was about to begin. He had to get the necessary liturgical

accessories ready. Father Kern was officiating this morning, and

Father Kern did not tolerate delays.

A little later, he again had occasion to go through the ambulatory.

An automatic dispenser of medals stamped with Ave

Maria Gratia Plena had just become jammed and a tourist, a

corpulent American woman, was tormenting the refund button.

In the chancel, the Mass was following its course. Father

Kern was delivering the day’s homily in his metallic, authoritative

voice, plunging the cathedral into a respectful silence. As he

opened the cover of the medal dispenser and the jammed coins

fell one by one as though from a piggy bank, Gérard ventured

a glance at the young woman dressed in white. She was there,

she hadn’t budged, her hands still clasped together on her pale

thighs, her two pumps still united. Outside, the sun was rising

straight up in line with the chapel and, penetrating the stained

glass in the east, was starting to bathe the young woman’s translucent

face in a red and blue halo worthy of a Raphael Madonna.

Motionless on her bench reserved for prayer, protected by a rope

that isolated her from visitors and gave her the appearance of a

holy relic, she stared at the statue of the Virgin of Seven Sorrows

with an oddly vacant expression.

Gérard closed the medal dispenser and took a couple of steps

toward the young woman in white, but the American tourist was

already ahead of him. She took a bill from her handbag and

pushed it through the slit in the stand, then took four candles,

which she lined up on the nearby rack before lighting them one

by one. Their flickering light finally illuminated the girl’s face.

The tourist crossed herself and approached the bench. In a

heavily accented whisper, she asked the young woman in white if

she could sit next to her in order to pray. Still motionless, the girl

did not deign to reply, her eyes as though transfixed by the statue

of Our Lady of the Seven Sorrows. After repeating her question

and still not obtaining an answer, the American deposited her

posterior on the bench, the wood groaning slightly beneath her

weight. Then, as if in slow motion, as if in a nightmare from the

dead of night, the white Madonna slowly nodded. Her chin came

down on her chest then, gently, almost gracefully, her whole body

toppled forward before collapsing on the checkered tiles.

That’s when the fat American woman started to scream.

~~~~~

Author Alexis Ragougneau

Alexis Ragougneau
is a playwright and
The Madonna of Notre Dame is his first novel.
He has worked in Notre Dame Cathedral
helping monitor tourist crowds
and knows well its infinite secrets
and the forgotten souls who linger in its darkest corners.

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Buy the book: on Amazon

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It’s never too early to start gathering Christmas reads and this will be a perfect story to add to your list.

What’s that? Do you smell cinnamon and sugar cookies? LOL

The Christmas Cookie Shop

by Ginny Baird

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Genre: Contemporary Romance

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Synopsis

Come home this Christmas to…

 

CHRISTMAS TOWN, TENNESSEE

 

Where everyday dreams come true!

 

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Ginny Baird brings you the start of a brand new holiday series…

 

THE CHRISTMAS COOKIE SHOP

 

(Christmas Town, Book 1)

 

Hannah Winchester is down on her luck and disillusioned with love, but her fortunes are about to change. When Hannah inherits a defunct bakery in East Tennessee, her first thought is to sell it and settle her substantial debt. Then the townsfolk welcome her warmly and she’s taken with the joyful spirit of the place, where stores employ holiday themes and residents have surnames like Christmas and Claus. After a handsome lawman comes to her aid dressed as Santa, Hannah learns he’s more than a hot guy in a red suit and shiny black boots. Sheriff Carter Livingston has joined in the cause of rejuvenating the town, and he’s encouraging her to do her part. Hannah’s great-grandmother, Lena, sold special holiday cookies that brought hope and renewal to the people of Christmas Town. Yet Hannah has plans elsewhere and isn’t looking to stay. Can she possibly reopen the shop known for kindling romance—without sacrificing her heart?

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Enjoy the fun excerpt.

Hannah held back the door, greeting the men on the street. Frank Cho gave a friendly smile, bomber jacket zipped up tight and thumbs hitched in his utility belt. “You must be Hannah.”

“Thanks for coming by, and on such short notice.”

“No problem,” Frank said as Carter followed him indoors, tipping his hat her way. “Electricity’s nothing to mess with.”

Just as Frank spoke, Carter locked on her gaze. Seconds ticked by as winds howled across the threshold. Frank turned to her, puzzled, and Carter reached up and smoothly shut the door. Hannah noted the paper bag in his hand. Its logo read The Elf Shelf Book Shop.

“Good to see you, sheriff.” Hannah shot him a smile. “Been shopping?”

“Had some errands to run.” Carter awkwardly cleared his throat. “On this street.”

Frank paused in unzipping his jacket to scrutinize them both. In a flash, his face registered understanding. “I’ll just go check things out, while you two get acquainted.”

“Oh no, we’ve—”

“Met,” Carter finished for her. His eyes were a thicket of pines: lush, green, and inviting. Heat warmed her cheeks as Carter removed his hat and pressed it to his chest.

“Right.” Frank repressed a grin. “In that case, reacquainted.” Hannah was vaguely aware of Frank turning her way. “Fuse box?”

“Kitchen,” she said weakly, never taking her eyes off Carter’s.

Frank clucked his tongue. “Uh-huh. Uh-huh.”

As he trailed away, Hannah could have sworn he said, “Major power surges could be an issue.”

Carter shifted his hat to the hand holding the bag. “Hannah…”

“Frank seems to have gotten the wrong impression.”

“What impression is that?”

Her color deepened. “That you and I—”

“But we’re not,” he assured her firmly.

“No.”

“Not even in the least.”

Hannah shook her head.

“The only thing is…”

Hannah waited, her heart drumming.

“We could be, if you wanted.”

“Could be what?”

“Going out.” A sly smile crept up his lips. “You did kind of invite me.”

“The rain check.” The words were a breathy whisper.

“Yeah.” Carter raised his free hand and lightly traced her lips with his thumb.

Hannah’s pulse raced and butterflies went wild within her.

“How about that rain check?” he continued. His palm was on her cheek now, the heel of his hand cradling her chin. Carter took a step closer. Only his hat and the shopping bag stood between them. “Can I cash it in?”

Copyright © 2016 Ginny Baird

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AUTHOR Ginny Baird

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Romance writer Ginny Baird has published novels in print and online and received screenplay options from Hollywood for her family and romantic comedy scripts. Whether writing lighthearted romantic comedy or spine-tingling romantic suspense, she delights in delivering heartwarming stories.

She is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, a Top 10 Best Seller on Kindle, NOOK and iBooks, and a #1 Best Seller in several Romance and Women’s Fiction categories. When she’s not writing, Ginny enjoys cooking, biking and spending time with her family in Virginia. Ginny loves hearing from her readers! She invites you to visit her website and connect with her on social media. http://www.ginnybairdromance.com/

 

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

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