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Call of the Trumpet
By: Helen A RosburgRomance eBooks Imprint: Medallion Press
Format: ePub Encrypted (DRM)
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A tale of love, loyalty, and heartbreak, this book follows a young European girl, Cecile, as she travels to the Sahara desert to reconnect with her past and the memory of her mother. When she was an infant, her French father felt shattered when his Bedouin wife died in childbirth, and thus fled the desert with Cecile. As Cecile gets older, she decides to leave the country she feels lost in, and return to the Sahara and its Bedouin culture. Faced with a physical, mental, and spiritual struggle, Cecile must deal with the danger and the culture clashes as she learns about love, honor, devotion, and her past.
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| Title of Romance eBook: Call of the Trumpet | |
| Release Date: 10-01-2007 | |
| Publisher: Medallion Press |
This eBook download is available in the following formats:
| Parent title | Call of the Trumpet |
|---|---|
| Encrypted (DRM) | Yes |
| SKU | 9781933836621 |
| File size | 7120 |
| Security | n/a |
| Printing | Not allowed |
| Copying | Not allowed |
| Read aloud | No Sys requirements Download reader |
| Devices | Samsung Tablet, Apple Ipad & Iphone, Barnes & Noble Nook, Kobo eReader, Aluratek Libre, Iliad, Nokia, Blackberry, Hanlin |
| Note | Excellent navigation features are available via Adobe such as bookmarks and a quick access table of contents. Text search is easily accessible. An Adobe DRM-protected file is different than a pdf file in that it uses Adobe DRM (Digital Rights Management) technology, which authors and publishers use to protect their content from illegal online distribution and to set certain privileges such as restrictions on copying and printing. |
Call of the Trumpet
Chapter One
Paris, 1859There was no lonelier sound in the world than that of dirt thudding dully on the lid of a coffin. Cecile sensed the priest at her side, felt his light touch on her elbow, but she was unable to move. The thudding continued and a misty rain began to fall. It did not move her. She stared into the slowly filling grave.
"Mademoiselle ... Mademoiselle Villier, please. It is time to go, come along. You will catch a chill standing in the rain like this."
Cecile ignored the priest, though not intentionally. Her only awareness was of the terrible numbness that lay like lead upon her breast and weighted her arms, her legs, her very soul. If only she could cry. Something within her might move then, and end the awful paralysis. But she could only stare, watching until the coffin's lid was completely covered with the dark, sodden earth.
"Come along now, mademoiselle. Really, you must," the priest urged.
"Excuse me. Excuse me, please. I will take the mademoiselle."
The priest moved gratefully aside, making way for the small brown man dressed entirely in white. The little man held a black umbrella over his mistress's head and gently touched her shoulder.
"Come now, halaila," he said quietly. "He is here no longer. We must go."
Cecile nodded slowly. She raised her eyes from the steadily filling grave to the jumble of headstones around her, elaborate statuary, crypts, and monuments of the Cemeteries Pere Lachaise. It was a city of the dead, and their cold, silent homes lined the brick-paved streets. Next to her father's grave stood a large crypt carved of white marble, on top of whi
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