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About the author:
Her books include The Ava Series: Paris Adieu, Part I and Black is Not a Color, Part II, Budapest Romance, Running from Love, Dog Sitters and Lyric. Her upcoming novel is Sense of Touch, a fictionalized story of Anne of Brittany and Queen of France. Visit her at www.rozsagaston.com.
What inspired you to write your book?
The inspiration for Paris Adieu is the plump, frizzy-haired nineteen-year-old girl I once was, who went to Paris as an au pair and discovered I didn’t need to be anything other than who I was to be fabulous. Okay, I’m still working on it… If you’re working on being fabulous too, read my book.
Here is a short sample from the book:
“What do you need?” he asked.
“What do you want?”
A more interesting question.
“Everything,” I replied. Might as well set up his expectations now. He would be both demanding and generous. I had never learned how to ask for what I wanted. With him I vowed I would.
He laughed softly. Then his lips found a place behind my ear and under my hair. After his lips, his teeth.
“Ahh,” I exhaled.
“Ça te plaît? — that pleases you?”
“Yes.” The lock of his hair still in my hand, I pulled hard. “Do you like that?”
“Yesss.” His response came out like a hiss. In the Garden of Eden we frolicked with the serpent. Would he hold it against me one day if I played tough with him? Yes, most likely. But there was no other way to play with Arnaud de Saint Cyr. If I didn’t play tough, I’d be played. Or dangled and discarded. I’d dated good-looking, arrogant men before. It was much more complicated than dating average ones. One had to be meaner to them than one wished to be. Otherwise they’d be mean to you. This one had the added advantage of being French. The only way to handle the situation was to ramp up my American freshness and charm. Being from Manhattan increased my advantage times ten. I would work it.
Eons later, we rose from the bench and made our way back to Place de la Bastille. In random alleyways and at dark street corners we took turns pushing each other up against walls, kissing deeply then backing off without a word. It was as if we both understood perfectly the game we played.