Michael Stolle's Blog - Posts Tagged "france"
greetings from Spain
Today I'm in Spain. 'Hace mucho calor' sighed my taxi driver - not really a surprise when you live in Spain, after all it's summer....it's supposed to be hot here!
I'm trying to find time (and the opportunity) to start a last edit of the next sequel - but.... it's hot :)
Soon I'll be on holidays - best time to delve back into the 17th century and meet my heroes again - looking very much forward to it!
hope you look forward to reading the next book too!
cheers
The French Orphan
The Secrets of Montrésor
I'm trying to find time (and the opportunity) to start a last edit of the next sequel - but.... it's hot :)
Soon I'll be on holidays - best time to delve back into the 17th century and meet my heroes again - looking very much forward to it!
hope you look forward to reading the next book too!
cheers
The French Orphan
The Secrets of Montrésor
back to work, almost done - and a freebie
Work in progress on the last sequel: the last 67 pages waiting to be edited....
almost finished....
It will be difficult to say good-bye to Pierre and Armand!
The French Orphan
The Secrets of Montrésor
for those who don't know the story: This Saturday and Sunday the first part of the Secrets of Montrésor can be downloaded on Amazon for free!
almost finished....
It will be difficult to say good-bye to Pierre and Armand!
The French Orphan
The Secrets of Montrésor
for those who don't know the story: This Saturday and Sunday the first part of the Secrets of Montrésor can be downloaded on Amazon for free!
Finished! Hurrah!
I did it!
"Under the Spell of the Serenissima" will be published in October and will finish the trilogy of the French Orphan.
Yesterday was the great day, I sent the file to my copy-editor (she's doing a great job by the way!) now my fate is sealed and in her hand :)
The story will take place mostly in Venice, called the Serenissima 'the serene city', I promise lots of suspense and some nice twists to the plot.
Hope you'll like it!
The French Orphan
"Under the Spell of the Serenissima" will be published in October and will finish the trilogy of the French Orphan.
Yesterday was the great day, I sent the file to my copy-editor (she's doing a great job by the way!) now my fate is sealed and in her hand :)
The story will take place mostly in Venice, called the Serenissima 'the serene city', I promise lots of suspense and some nice twists to the plot.
Hope you'll like it!
The French Orphan
a sneak preview of the 3rd book
On the road again
“Why the hell is Edo still talking to that stupid peasant?” Pierre was not only extremely irritated, but his stomach was rumbling and he was exceedingly tired. “I mean, how complicated can it be to ask for directions to Verona?”
“Seems that they have a lot to discuss… With them both being Italian, I guess they simply can’t help talking. They’ll probably take ages to get to the point, better be patient,” answered Armand, scratching his head reflectively.
Pierre watched his friend suspiciously and moved a step further away from him. “You’ve got lice!” he accused his friend.
“Could be,” Armand answered, unperturbed. “I’ll ask Jean tonight to have a look. Don’t look at me as if I’m a leper, it’s almost impossible not to catch them when you’re travelling. Come on, stop pulling faces at me!”
Pierre suddenly felt a strong urge to start scratching himself; he could almost feel an army of blood-thirsty lice crawling all over his own body. He shuddered but secretly he had to admit it. Armand was right, there was no realistic hope of escaping any of those beasts – from lice to fleas or bedbugs – as long as they were travelling and had no choice but to stay in all sorts of dubious post stations along their way.
At last Edo seemed to have finished his discussion as he was waving his hat towards his friends, gesturing them to come and join him.
“In the name of all the blessed saints, what took you so long with this peasant?” Pierre exclaimed, irritated. “Did he at least tell you the quickest way to Verona?”
Edo smiled. “Actually I didn’t ask him that particular question,” he answered calmly.
“You didn’t ask?” repeated Armand, almost mechanically.
“So why did you keep us waiting so long?” Pierre cried in frustration.
“There is the possibility that I asked him to recommend a hospitable farm or post station close by – somehow I had the inkling that my travelling companions might otherwise turn into cannibals and have me for lunch,” Edo answered with a glint of laughter in his eyes.
Pierre looked guilty. “I’m sorry, Edo, I guess I’m behaving like a spoilt child!”
“Since he’s been named a duke and kissed by King Charles, he’s become extremely difficult to deal with,” Armand commented, ignoring Pierre’s furious glances. “His lackeys usually serve a full picnic at this time of day – and he becomes really nasty if everything isn’t served exactly as he likes it.”
Edo saw Pierre kick Armand and laughed. “Sorry, I can’t offer such a treat, but the peasant did tell me that there is a noble estate nearby, so let’s spur on the horses and hope they’ll offer us a late lunch. I’m so hungry that I could devour a whole pig!”
“That sounds fabulous, I’m really hungry too. But what about Verona, then?” interrogated Pierre. “Do you know how to get there, your discussion with this man seemed to go on forever!”
“Oh, we’re not going to Verona,” Edo said casually. “We’re riding north instead.”
“But you told the innkeeper in Bergamo that we were heading to Verona in order to meet some of your relatives there.”
“Yeah, I was pretty convincing,” Edo answered smugly. “Maybe it’s about time to confess that I had a long discussion with my brother last night when you had already gone to bed.”
His glance met two curious pairs of eyes. “I must admit that my brother may be stuffy and thrifty, but indisputably he’s got the brains of the family. He made me recount our adventures in the tavern in Milan and looking calmly at the facts he came to the conclusion that Richelieu’s involvement seemed rather unlikely – which leads…”
“…which leads us directly to my murderous cousin, Henri,” Pierre groaned.
“Exactly.” Edo beamed at Pierre like a teacher encouraging a dim pupil who had – finally – understood a difficult point. “Therefore my brother instructed me to be careful and cover our tracks and suggested we ride to a remote castle in the north close to Lake Garda and stay there over Christmas. The owner of the castle is not only a close friend of the family but he also has good connections with the Venetian aristocracy and could help you to find the ring you seem to be looking for.”
“I don’t feel very comfortable imposing myself on your friends,” Pierre interjected. “Just imagine the reverse, four total strangers knocking at my door in Montrésor to spend a surprise Christmas with us!”
Edo waved nonchalantly. “Don’t worry, the owner is not only a close friend, he owes us a favour. You’ll see, he’s really very nice. We’ll have a great time – some peace and quiet will do us good after our last adventure.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying for the past two years,” Armand commented gloomily, “but somehow peace and quiet never seem to happen.”
“So tell me, what were you discussing at such length with this peasant?” Now Pierre was openly curious.
Edo laughed. “He was telling me a long, long story about all the misfortunes that have befallen members of his family lately. I think he had it all from miscarriage to the untimely death of his wife and of several of his numerous children. Oh yes, I forgot to mention the perfidious witch who put a spell on his goat.”
Pierre was shocked. “But that’s no laughing matter!”
Edo made a face. “It was so obvious, he saw our expensive clothes and thought he could cream some money off us. I don’t believe a fraction of what he told me, he sounded far too cheerful, although he tried hard to shed some tears to make the story more credible!”
“Pierre always believes in the goodness of mankind,” Armand commented drily. “It’s become quite a bad habit. So what did you answer?”
“Oh, I retaliated and I told him about our own terrible misfortunes, that we’re on our way to Verona but were robbed in Milano by gangsters who almost took our lives and haven’t a penny left for our journey – he shouldn’t even think about us being able to dispense any charity.”
“Good!” Armand beamed at Edo. “You know how to deal with this kind of bloodsucker.”
“Of course I do,” Edo answered. “Lesson number one I learned from my brother: A banker never opens his purse unless it’s to receive something!”
While they had been chatting animatedly the four riders approached at a leisurely pace a stately home, a solid old square estate built from local stone and bricks. Plaster and paint looked worn by age but strangely this only added to the dignified aspect of the building. A hysterical dog could be heard barking inside the courtyard, the only noise that seemed to disturb the peaceful winter day.
“This should be the estate the peasant described to me.” Edo looked around, appraising the building. “It certainly looks wealthy enough to offer us a decent lunch!”
As they entered the courtyard several curious servants started to gather around them, gawking at them as if they had arrived from the moon. Apparently visitors, especially strangers, were a rare occurrence – not to be missed on any account.
Jean had dismounted first and was shouting at the grooms to stir themselves and wait on his masters when the scene was interrupted by the arrival of the lady of the house. Traces of long-gone beauty were still apparent in her face but deep lines of grumpiness were matched by blazing eyes and a shrill voice as she addressed the strangers. “We have nothing to give and the master of the house is busy, he cannot receive anybody today!”
“What a witch,” Edo murmured to Armand. “I wonder how she managed to get here so fast. She must spend all her time supervising and whipping her servants into action.”
Pierre looked at her in disbelief. He had imagined himself already seated at a table loaded with delicacies – never had he expected such a bold and impolite rejection. While he was still wrestling with his disappointment and this sudden turn of events, Armand dismounted from his horse and nonchalantly approached the lady of the house. He ignored her apparent displeasure and waved his hat while bowing low as if they were at the royal court. He greeted the lady and addressed her in his charming mix of French of Italian.
“My lady, please accept my most profound apologies for our untimely intrusion. My friend, the noble Comte de Reims, and I are come from France on our way to visit friends in Verona and all we wanted to ask was a cup of water and a piece of bread. Never had we intended to disturb the lady of the house – but please let me add that I’m pleased that we did so all the same. I’m enchanted to meet a lady of timeless beauty and elegance.”
He finished his introduction with the famous smile that rarely failed to impress his female victims and – once again – Pierre could witness the immediate effect of the shameless charms of his friend. The lady of the house turned scarlet and instinctively she tried to arrange the curls of her hair while clearing her throat.
“Oh, you’re from France!” she exclaimed in a slightly croaky voice. “I love France, I spent my youth at the court of Queen Maria de Medici. I will never forget the beauty and refinement of her courts. Do you know Her Majesty, by any chance?”
I’m too young by far, thought Armand, but quickly bit his tongue and answered, “I regret that I never had the chance to meet Her Majesty, as you probably know, His Majesty and his mother are not on the best of terms… but it’s a pity that we won’t have the opportunity to exchange some words about the royal court – by chance we happen to know the present King quite well – and his mother’s sudden exile was such a scandal…”
The French Orphan
“Why the hell is Edo still talking to that stupid peasant?” Pierre was not only extremely irritated, but his stomach was rumbling and he was exceedingly tired. “I mean, how complicated can it be to ask for directions to Verona?”
“Seems that they have a lot to discuss… With them both being Italian, I guess they simply can’t help talking. They’ll probably take ages to get to the point, better be patient,” answered Armand, scratching his head reflectively.
Pierre watched his friend suspiciously and moved a step further away from him. “You’ve got lice!” he accused his friend.
“Could be,” Armand answered, unperturbed. “I’ll ask Jean tonight to have a look. Don’t look at me as if I’m a leper, it’s almost impossible not to catch them when you’re travelling. Come on, stop pulling faces at me!”
Pierre suddenly felt a strong urge to start scratching himself; he could almost feel an army of blood-thirsty lice crawling all over his own body. He shuddered but secretly he had to admit it. Armand was right, there was no realistic hope of escaping any of those beasts – from lice to fleas or bedbugs – as long as they were travelling and had no choice but to stay in all sorts of dubious post stations along their way.
At last Edo seemed to have finished his discussion as he was waving his hat towards his friends, gesturing them to come and join him.
“In the name of all the blessed saints, what took you so long with this peasant?” Pierre exclaimed, irritated. “Did he at least tell you the quickest way to Verona?”
Edo smiled. “Actually I didn’t ask him that particular question,” he answered calmly.
“You didn’t ask?” repeated Armand, almost mechanically.
“So why did you keep us waiting so long?” Pierre cried in frustration.
“There is the possibility that I asked him to recommend a hospitable farm or post station close by – somehow I had the inkling that my travelling companions might otherwise turn into cannibals and have me for lunch,” Edo answered with a glint of laughter in his eyes.
Pierre looked guilty. “I’m sorry, Edo, I guess I’m behaving like a spoilt child!”
“Since he’s been named a duke and kissed by King Charles, he’s become extremely difficult to deal with,” Armand commented, ignoring Pierre’s furious glances. “His lackeys usually serve a full picnic at this time of day – and he becomes really nasty if everything isn’t served exactly as he likes it.”
Edo saw Pierre kick Armand and laughed. “Sorry, I can’t offer such a treat, but the peasant did tell me that there is a noble estate nearby, so let’s spur on the horses and hope they’ll offer us a late lunch. I’m so hungry that I could devour a whole pig!”
“That sounds fabulous, I’m really hungry too. But what about Verona, then?” interrogated Pierre. “Do you know how to get there, your discussion with this man seemed to go on forever!”
“Oh, we’re not going to Verona,” Edo said casually. “We’re riding north instead.”
“But you told the innkeeper in Bergamo that we were heading to Verona in order to meet some of your relatives there.”
“Yeah, I was pretty convincing,” Edo answered smugly. “Maybe it’s about time to confess that I had a long discussion with my brother last night when you had already gone to bed.”
His glance met two curious pairs of eyes. “I must admit that my brother may be stuffy and thrifty, but indisputably he’s got the brains of the family. He made me recount our adventures in the tavern in Milan and looking calmly at the facts he came to the conclusion that Richelieu’s involvement seemed rather unlikely – which leads…”
“…which leads us directly to my murderous cousin, Henri,” Pierre groaned.
“Exactly.” Edo beamed at Pierre like a teacher encouraging a dim pupil who had – finally – understood a difficult point. “Therefore my brother instructed me to be careful and cover our tracks and suggested we ride to a remote castle in the north close to Lake Garda and stay there over Christmas. The owner of the castle is not only a close friend of the family but he also has good connections with the Venetian aristocracy and could help you to find the ring you seem to be looking for.”
“I don’t feel very comfortable imposing myself on your friends,” Pierre interjected. “Just imagine the reverse, four total strangers knocking at my door in Montrésor to spend a surprise Christmas with us!”
Edo waved nonchalantly. “Don’t worry, the owner is not only a close friend, he owes us a favour. You’ll see, he’s really very nice. We’ll have a great time – some peace and quiet will do us good after our last adventure.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying for the past two years,” Armand commented gloomily, “but somehow peace and quiet never seem to happen.”
“So tell me, what were you discussing at such length with this peasant?” Now Pierre was openly curious.
Edo laughed. “He was telling me a long, long story about all the misfortunes that have befallen members of his family lately. I think he had it all from miscarriage to the untimely death of his wife and of several of his numerous children. Oh yes, I forgot to mention the perfidious witch who put a spell on his goat.”
Pierre was shocked. “But that’s no laughing matter!”
Edo made a face. “It was so obvious, he saw our expensive clothes and thought he could cream some money off us. I don’t believe a fraction of what he told me, he sounded far too cheerful, although he tried hard to shed some tears to make the story more credible!”
“Pierre always believes in the goodness of mankind,” Armand commented drily. “It’s become quite a bad habit. So what did you answer?”
“Oh, I retaliated and I told him about our own terrible misfortunes, that we’re on our way to Verona but were robbed in Milano by gangsters who almost took our lives and haven’t a penny left for our journey – he shouldn’t even think about us being able to dispense any charity.”
“Good!” Armand beamed at Edo. “You know how to deal with this kind of bloodsucker.”
“Of course I do,” Edo answered. “Lesson number one I learned from my brother: A banker never opens his purse unless it’s to receive something!”
While they had been chatting animatedly the four riders approached at a leisurely pace a stately home, a solid old square estate built from local stone and bricks. Plaster and paint looked worn by age but strangely this only added to the dignified aspect of the building. A hysterical dog could be heard barking inside the courtyard, the only noise that seemed to disturb the peaceful winter day.
“This should be the estate the peasant described to me.” Edo looked around, appraising the building. “It certainly looks wealthy enough to offer us a decent lunch!”
As they entered the courtyard several curious servants started to gather around them, gawking at them as if they had arrived from the moon. Apparently visitors, especially strangers, were a rare occurrence – not to be missed on any account.
Jean had dismounted first and was shouting at the grooms to stir themselves and wait on his masters when the scene was interrupted by the arrival of the lady of the house. Traces of long-gone beauty were still apparent in her face but deep lines of grumpiness were matched by blazing eyes and a shrill voice as she addressed the strangers. “We have nothing to give and the master of the house is busy, he cannot receive anybody today!”
“What a witch,” Edo murmured to Armand. “I wonder how she managed to get here so fast. She must spend all her time supervising and whipping her servants into action.”
Pierre looked at her in disbelief. He had imagined himself already seated at a table loaded with delicacies – never had he expected such a bold and impolite rejection. While he was still wrestling with his disappointment and this sudden turn of events, Armand dismounted from his horse and nonchalantly approached the lady of the house. He ignored her apparent displeasure and waved his hat while bowing low as if they were at the royal court. He greeted the lady and addressed her in his charming mix of French of Italian.
“My lady, please accept my most profound apologies for our untimely intrusion. My friend, the noble Comte de Reims, and I are come from France on our way to visit friends in Verona and all we wanted to ask was a cup of water and a piece of bread. Never had we intended to disturb the lady of the house – but please let me add that I’m pleased that we did so all the same. I’m enchanted to meet a lady of timeless beauty and elegance.”
He finished his introduction with the famous smile that rarely failed to impress his female victims and – once again – Pierre could witness the immediate effect of the shameless charms of his friend. The lady of the house turned scarlet and instinctively she tried to arrange the curls of her hair while clearing her throat.
“Oh, you’re from France!” she exclaimed in a slightly croaky voice. “I love France, I spent my youth at the court of Queen Maria de Medici. I will never forget the beauty and refinement of her courts. Do you know Her Majesty, by any chance?”
I’m too young by far, thought Armand, but quickly bit his tongue and answered, “I regret that I never had the chance to meet Her Majesty, as you probably know, His Majesty and his mother are not on the best of terms… but it’s a pity that we won’t have the opportunity to exchange some words about the royal court – by chance we happen to know the present King quite well – and his mother’s sudden exile was such a scandal…”
The French Orphan
A NEW BOOK IN THE MAKING
started writing a new book today - set in the 17th century - but the story will be set in England, the last years of the reign of Charles Ist
will keep you posted
Michael Stolle
will keep you posted
Michael Stolle
Thanks for the great review on Amazon!
This is a novel of the highest calibre. It has a great plot, full of political scheming and a great adventure.
It has rich description and interesting characters of great depth.
The story is truly absorbing and I have now started the second one. This would make a marvellous film.
Anyone who enjoys a good historical novel will I am sure enjoy this. I highly recommend this.
The French Orphan
It has rich description and interesting characters of great depth.
The story is truly absorbing and I have now started the second one. This would make a marvellous film.
Anyone who enjoys a good historical novel will I am sure enjoy this. I highly recommend this.
The French Orphan
The Queen's Maid of Honour
Watch out - this book is soon to appear for free download on kindle!
It's a must for all lovers of romance and adventure - and those who appreciate a zest of humour.
You'll travel back to England in the 17th century, a country torn apart by religious fervour and civil war.
This is my special thank you for all readers who went through the effort of rating my books and giving me valuable feed-back.
As today the mark of 200 ratings was reached by Goodreads members, time to celebrate a little.
The Queen's Maid of Honour
The story goes on
First of all thanks for the two reviews that have been posted on Amazon recently. It's very much appreciated that you took the time and effort!
In June almost 100.000 pages have been read on Kindle alone, I take this as the greatest compliment of all.
But as I promised, the story will go on and I haven't remained idle during my holidays and the next sequel is progressing.
My heroes are still in France but they'll need to leave for war-torn England once again and then... well, that's my little secret.
Cheers and best wishes for a relaxing summer holiday to all of my readers
In June almost 100.000 pages have been read on Kindle alone, I take this as the greatest compliment of all.
But as I promised, the story will go on and I haven't remained idle during my holidays and the next sequel is progressing.
My heroes are still in France but they'll need to leave for war-torn England once again and then... well, that's my little secret.
Cheers and best wishes for a relaxing summer holiday to all of my readers
