Mary Elle: The Chosen One
Lynn Wood, L.M. Wood
A test of faith…a compelling, relentless fall into a contest of wills with the divine…
Aspiring artist, Mary Elle McGann has a mysterious encounter with the Virgin Mary she recreates on canvas and suddenly finds herself swept up into the glamorous world of the international art scene and into the passionate embrace of wealthy Parisian collector, Luc Bordeaux.
To Mary Elle it seems as though she’s fallen into the pages of a fairytale where all her dreams come true. She’s sought after, feted, acclaimed as the next great American artist, all the while falling deeper under Luc’s seductive spell. Even as she stumbles crazily into love, Mary Elle wonders if her appeal in Luc's eyes is contingent upon the seemingly miraculous gift of her new talent. She worries if he would still find her as desirable if it was taken from her.
Too late, Mary Elle is reminded that all fairytales have a dark side. In over her head, and unsure who she can trust, she pursues each new encounter with the virgin across Europe to Nazareth to the birthplace of Christ, and finally to Rome, seeking the reason she was chosen to be the unlikely steward of the virgin’s message.
Even as her art drives her in one, seemingly fateful direction, her desperate longing for her fairytale ending with Luc pulls her in another. Could she have one only at the sacrifice of the other? Must she choose then? And would that choice tear her apart?
Preview:
“I thought we would enjoy dinner together, but if you are bored with the company…”
Mary Elle broke in, “You’re joking, right? Today has been like a dream. I spent most of it pinching myself when you weren’t looking. I feel like Cinderella at the ball, but even fairy tale princesses have to face the inevitable chime of midnight and its accompanying end to their fantasies.”
Grinning at her analogy Luc leaned in close and brushed his lips across hers, “It’s not yet midnight, Mary Elle.”
Who was she kidding? She allowed herself to be persuaded. In truth, she didn’t try very hard to protest his plans. They dined on the stone patio of his centuries old mansion on the bank of the River Seine. Their eyes met across the small distance separating them. Mary Elle’s breath suddenly deserted her. He tugged on her hand and she leaned towards him. When it came, his kiss was more than she’d caught herself dreaming it would be. One of his hands released the one he was holding between them and his fingers trailed up her arm to clasp the back of her head and hold her close to him.
When he leaned away he urged, “Stay with me, Mary Elle. Be with me.”
“Yes,” Her agreement slipped from between her lips with no thought of resistance, with no thought at all. She didn’t want to think about the consequences. She just wanted to let herself be, and to be with Luc.
He rose from his chair and pulled her up from hers and into his arms. He whispered erotic promises in French as he slid his lips along the long column of her throat. Mary Elle let herself be seduced by him, by the scent of the Wisteria vines growing up the terrace posts, by the whisper of a lover’s promises along the air of the still Paris night.
He carried her across the oriental carpet covering his highly polished hardwood floor, coming to a stop at the side of his hand-carved antique bed. For a moment he stood staring intently down at her. “You’re beautiful.”
“You make me feel beautiful,” she confessed, so happy she’d given herself permission to allow herself the joy of sharing herself with this man. A virtual stranger to her, but his hands, his lips were making her feel as if she was the most desirable woman in the world, as if he considered her a precious treasure.
He seduced her slowly and she glorified in his seduction. Hadn’t the entire day been one continuous slide into this culmination?
'How could this be happening to me?' she wondered silently...
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