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French Sally
Unbound Press
Category:
Mainstream
Publisher: Unbound Press
Type: Fiction
Pages: 624
Copyright: Feb 4 2009
ISBN-13: 9780955836015
Love, murder, revolution, betrayal - a three volume fantasy in which Jacques Tassell hunts for the book of which he himself is the hero.
Set against a backdrop of love, power, ambition and revolution, French Sally weaves through the timeless passions, the turmoil of history and politics, that help to create a nation. The bewildered hero, Jacques Tassell, is caught in a spiral of events that shake the foundations of his identity, as he struggles to salvage a life for the inhabitants of the Place de la Comédie and to do so takes on a cunning and callous President, determined to restore his country’s former glory.
Excerpt
Though his head still felt like a shuddering church bell, Jacques was now fully alert, and he noticed the sudden harshness in Carrier’s voice. ‘If this is your idea of a visit, you could have spared yourself the trouble.’
‘What Corday told you – the fascinating part is becoming. How right she is! You don’t understand us, Jacques. You’d probably say that I don’t understand you either, but then, I’m not going to try. You wanted to save your dear Charlotte, but she and I know it well: we are who we are, and if we’re going to be true to ourselves, we must keep our ideals intact.’
‘So now you’re a man of ideals. We live and learn.’
‘Of course I’m a man of ideals. Aren’t I, Camille? Eh?’ Carrier held the cat aloft and nuzzled it affectionately. He cleared a space on the desk, laid the purring cat upon it, and tickled its belly as he continued rubbing his nose against its muzzle. ‘I’m the People’s Representative, aren’t I, Camille? A People’s Representative has ideals. You know that, little pussy, don’t you?’ His left hand groped for the paper weight. ‘Sent here to save the Revolution. Do you like revolutions, pussy? Of course you do.’ He transferred the weight to his right hand. ‘But they have to be saved, Camille. They have to be saved from horrible people like Tassell. Don’t you think he’s a horrible person, pussy?’
The paperweight came down on Camille’s head.
Matthieu uttered a stifled scream through his gag. He turned away, his body rigid, like a prisoner electrocuted, caught in a final convulsion. Then he brought his eyes back to look at Camille: the twitching paws, the pulp of the head and the blood spreading over the desk.
Carrier too was looking at what he had done, and at first seemed almost astonished. As the pool of blood expanded, he removed French Sally from its path and clasped it in his lap where the cat had been. He glanced at the cat again, and what he was feeling expressed itself in a short, irrepressible, high-pitched yelp of pleasure.
He picked up the gun and edged his chair away from the desk. ‘Cats are such lovely creatures, don’t you think?’
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