Do you really want to know what Paris is all about as seen through the eyes of lovers...
Je t'aime Mon Amour - Paris, the 5th of Avril
Excerpt from KC's diary and our times in Paris.
Occasionally, if you’re lucky, a book, a poem or in this case, an ongoing series will come along and touch you so deeply that you know you will never be the same. The words are visually beautiful and the love KC shares with the girls is so romantic that it will leave you in tears. This is the type of writing that will drown you with emotion, the way a story is supposed to be written: translating our unique voices and personalities to paper, while reliving our lovely story. I would literally hold my breath and wait for a moment to give me a reason to relax as the memories rushed back into my heart. So, without further ado, I bring you the first few paragraphs for our novel while I sit on KC's lap... Enjoy!
I FIND MYSELF heading to the same café located in Rue de Médicis. It rained that day while hearing footsteps swishing through the endless maze of blackened narrow cobblestone streets as the Parisians scamper underneath the drenched red awnings sipping tea/thé. I, on the other hand, continued to soak in the misty rain that made my skin come alive, while pretty thoughts of Renée and Isabelle resonate through my heart, my true loves...
I found a charming, old-fashion typical café, but isn’t that what Paris is made of readers? Regardless if I made my way towards the Jardin du Luxembourg or the Place de la République, a favorite of ours, you’ll always find that repetitive déjà vu décor: men wearing long white aprons, with small circular tables and mint water carafes, accented with delicate cut-glass ashtrays, and the clientèle smoking while lovers slowly undress their inner affections with subtle romantic glances and sweet soft kisses.
Here I was sitting at a table located in the back of the café that allowed me to take in a bird’s eye view of the establishment as well as the French culture. The waiter returned with my order of a nice hot cup of tea/thé, Le Rose. Then, I was distracted by a charming young French woman who entered the café sitting by herself. She was very beautiful with long light brown hair and ocean blue-green eyes and I noticed her subtle glances towards me as we made eye contact from time-2-time.
Obviously, she was waiting for me, but I couldn’t help but notice her beautiful skin, and those ocean blue-green eyes that I would love to drown my heart in, and her soft pink lips that surely tasted like fresh cut rose petals, as I slowly start to undress my inner emotions for her...
Being in Paris, I never felt that I would have to prove my affections. While I am not boasting, I consider myself an intelligent, handsome man—and did I mention sexy?
Again, I took subtle glances at her and noticed that she was leaving the café while carefully holding a delicate pink handkerchief in her hand. I just hope she was alright.
Thirty minutes later, I closed my semi-off dark black notepad and I got up and paid my bill. I declared that I am a writer—I write as I seek that one good story while peeling back the layers and write only by my truthful observations and mixed reservations, as I slowly made my way to the bartender, and there she was the woman who entered this establishment early that night.
Slowly, we passed one another as our eyes met and our hands accidentally brushed up against each other’s while she gazed at me with love and concern.
“Pardon,” she whispered. “Bonsoir, Monsieur.”
I stopped, leaned in, and I drowned my heart in those ocean blue-green eyes of hers, and I reached for her hand, so soft and elegant and kissed her palm.
“Bonsoir, Mon Amour. Pour toujours et à jamais,” I whispered softly in her ear.
Annotation: It begins guys...
Intro Book I Book II Book III And...