Preface to my novel

Paris, 1348.

The night air held the stench of death as Liliane left her house that night. The black plague had taken her brother that very day. His body was left in his bed where he passed, and there he would stay until the body collector came by in the morning. Liliane only had her mother left in the world of the living, and she knew better than anyone to take that for granted. She knew the small cough that her mother had now would soon lead to a shallow grave with the rest of the town. All the poor girl prayed for was death herself. Then she could be with her family in the after life.

Liliane pushed the time for mourning back, and went to work. Within a few hours she had made enough to last through the week; however, she did not go home. Instead, she walked into the nearest bar and had a bite to eat. Normally, she would have never done such a thing, but, with death as a shadow that stalked her in the night, she broke her routine. Being poor, her belly had never been full, Liliane decided to change that. She ordered the biggest meal she had ever seen, and ate it all with such earnestly that she made a mess. Nobody chastised her. They understood. Times were tough, with the war just ending, and now the plague. Nobody would ever judge her, at least in this bar. Paying for her meal, and leaving a small tip for the mess she made, she got up to leave when a man stopped her.

“Excuse me miss, I would like to employ you. Let me pay for this meal.” He picked up her money and placed it back into her small delicate hands. She just looked at the man with disbelief. There was no such thing as a nice person anymore, especially one that handed out money so easily. The meal was worth three times what she charged her clients. “This meal is your payment, do you understand?” He thought her to be stupid, and she decided to play it up by just nodding. After the mystery man had payed for her food, he led her out the door and into an alleyway. He softly pushed her against the wall as he laid his lips upon hers. She was still in shock from the happenings in the bar, but her instincts kicked in with that kiss. This man was a good kisser, unlike the others who had kissed her previously that night. The man abruptly stopped and pulled his head back far enough to look into her eyes. “I am sorry, my dear,” he whispered under his breath, “but I promise, it won't hurt.”