When Mr. Incredibly Hot slid his arm inside her robe and around her naked waist, it was exactly what Nora needed!
Welcome to one of the September 21st stops on the blog tour for French Kiss by Gloria J. Goldsmith with Goddess Fish Promotions. Be sure to follow the rest of the tour for spotlights, reviews, author guest posts, and a giveaway! More on that at the end of this post.
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Author Guest Post
A lot of Americans complain about the French when touring in France. The usual complaint is they are rude. I found only one person like that, and I spoke with many French people. If you attempt to speak the language, the French like that. Even if you struggle with it, they appreciate that you are attempting to meet them halfway. And nowadays, you can download a translation program to your cell, making communication much more straightforward.
This excerpt from French Kiss is a perfect example of the French people. They were just like any youth, excited, ready to help, kind, and genuine.
I hustled around the corner, crossed to the other side of the street, and scurried into an open driveway. The property had a perimeter of low retaining walls with solid old-growth evergreens for privacy. I scrunched down a bit, hiding several feet back from the entrance so their lights couldn’t spot me. A young female cat wound herself around my legs. I knelt down to pet the sweet little girl and murmur to her. A car passed, but it was blasting music. A young man walked around the garage.
“Hi.”
“Shh! I’m hiding. Get down.” He crouched near me. We watched a car drive by slowly. I was sure that it was Maxime and Nicolette. I let out my breath.
“Whew, safe.”
“Who are you hiding from?”
“My boyfriend’s brother. My boyfriend is in the hospital with a perforated stomach ulcer. His family blames me. They’re nuts.”
He laughed. He was a handsome, brown-haired young man about fourteen. He saw the backpacks. “You are not French!”
“No. Je suis américaine. But Jean Louis, my boyfriend, is French.” His sister walked around the end of the garage just then. She was a year or so younger. He spoke quickly, telling her their guest was hiding from the brother of her boyfriend. They stood close and whispered. The boy turned to me. “Come, you can stay here tonight.”
We moved around the other side to the garage door, careful not to be seen from the house, and crept inside. It was dark, but they found a flashlight.
They sat down with me, introducing themselves as Fleur and Guillaume, and we chatted a bit. The siblings were thrilled to have a foreign guest. They asked all kinds of questions. Where was I from? How old was I? What was college like? Where would I go in the morning? Where would I stay tomorrow? How long was I going to be in France? Had I been to other countries?
Fleur indicated she would be right back and ran inside, returning in a few minutes with food from their dinner. Tuna casserole and a biscuit in tinfoil, and a bottle of water; it was a most delicious and generous gift. We chatted a bit longer before they had to go inside. Guillaume told me he would come in the morning to warn me when it was time to leave.
I woke with birds chattering and was rolling up the sleeping bag when Guillaume came in to warn me his mother would be coming out to the car in a few minutes. I thanked him, shook his hand, told him to give Fleur my thanks and good fortune. I pulled him into a hug, kissed his cheeks, stepped back, and placed my hands on his shoulders.
“You are France. You and Fleur are all the magnificent things about France. Au revoir, mon ami.” He had a beatific smile on his face as I left with a wave.
Jean Louis’s family was resentful, full of spite and blame. These youth of France were open, charitable, and willing to help a stranger in need, just for the excitement of meeting someone from a far-off land.
This was the warmth I had hoped to find in the Descartes family. I now understood the reason for Jean Louis’s eight-year family separation. The constant bickering and fighting, the discontent with the world that came from them. I considered his illness in a homeopathic manner; his body had allowed him to survive for years with an ulcer. But after just four days with his mother, his body, the physical manifestation of one’s psyche and emotions, could not cope with the negativity.
Jean Louis was a happy person. He had few possessions or wealth, but he had a positive outlook, a sweet disposition, and a generous heart. As I walked to the bus stop that morning, my brain was permeated, brimming with thoughts of Jean Louis. He was honest, kind, patient, and loving, far more than Ethan and even more than Luke. My heart was bursting with emotion.
About the Book
French Kiss
Always and Forever
by Gloria J Goldsmith
Published 6 September 2021
Plum Products
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Page Count: 205
Add it to your Goodreads TBR!
I was DONE! I ditched graduation, dumped my repressed college boyfriend, and dropped my sexual insecurities for a wild ride with Destiny. Unpredictable Fate beckoned with a European adventure!
In a chance encounter, I met Jean Louis. From the instant we met, the dashing young Frenchman soothed my bruised heart, rejuvenated my spirit, and convinced me that leaving my old life was no mistake. Together, we set out to explore southern France.
Jean Louis was torn from my life almost as quickly as he had entered it, yet leaving the haunting memory of his caress permeating my every thought. Driven by love and passion, I journeyed to find my lover, even if it meant scouring all the hidden corners of France.
Would I ever reunite with the man I believe to be my one true soulmate? Would I ever hear him say he feels the same for me as I do him? What twist of Fate will it take for me to find him?
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Excerpt
We decided to have a small summer vacation and go to France. With our winter coats, his duffel bag, our food provisions for the road, and carrying the suitcase, our arms were full. Standing at the busy corner waiting for the light to change, a green VW bug pulled up, expecting to turn.
“That’s Him!” I roared. The luggage and coat dropped from my hands as I advanced on the car.
The window was rolled down, and the man in the passenger seat looked startled, and then his eyes opened in recognition. It was the dildo thief.
“YOU!” I took a last step to the car. The man screamed at the confused, young woman driving the vehicle, “Gehen! Gehen!” Go, go!
“You Thief!” I jumped on the running board of the car and grabbed a handhold on the open sunroof. The scared woman looked up through the sunroof and leaned away. The man was screaming at her, “Go, go!”
I leaned down and yelled at the thief, “Where’s My Dildo? You Thief! I Want My Dildo!”
The man was pushing at me, trying hard to dislodge my grip, while the woman was demanding, “Was möchte sie? Was ist das ‘dildo’?” What does she want? What is this ‘dildo’?
“Fahren! Schnell, schnell!” Drive! Fast, fast! The woman let out the clutch, and the VW bug surged around the corner, gaining momentum.
It was now or never; I had to release my grip or get hurt falling at high speed. I let go and jumped off, running and yelling, “You Thief!”
The woman in the car was sure I knew the man sitting next to her. I could hear her demanding to know, “Who was that woman, and what did she want?” I saw his hand stick out the window in a shrug as he pretended to have no idea.
As I stood watching the car speeding away, I smiled, hearing the woman’s high-pitched voice screaming at the dildo thief.
I turned around to see Jean Louis utterly confused and probably questioning my sanity. I had never told him about the theft. I realized he had witnessed me acting the madwoman when I had dropped all my possessions, jumped on the running board of a car, and clung to it while screaming at a stranger.
I started laughing at the situation. Enraged one minute and laughing the next, I must have looked like a lunatic. That realization made me laugh even harder, and I couldn’t stop laughing, which probably also looked somewhat suspiciously close to crazy. I did not have enough command of the French language to explain what had happened or why I was laughing, which only made me laugh more.
About the Author
As a Special Education teacher, I became fascinated by the English language. I still marvel at how it changes and expands over time. My most pleasurable teaching moments were showing children how a wondrous story can take their imaginations to other times, places, even other worlds. When the pandemic began, I started my first foray into publishing⸺ a nonfiction book, The Sensible Parent’s Little Homeschooler Handbook.
My secret pleasure-writing has always been focused on romance. French Kiss is a Contemporary Romance based on a fictionalized version of experiences during eighteen months of living and working abroad before the formation of the European Union.
Next year, my first Historical Regency Romance That Wylde Woman will be published. It has allowed me to indulge my curiosity and enthusiasm for history by incorporating in the storyline a historical geologic event which affected weather and farming and even how England’s war with Napoleon impacted clothing styles.
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The guy on the cover is giving me Johnny Depp vibes
Johnny Depp vibes. Yeah, he does have that same smile. I liked this picture because of this head and eyes down. He sort of looks a bit shy, but the big smile says something else.
Many of the adventures described did happen when I was in Europe. I thought they were perfect as a background for the story. The dildo thief and staying overnight in Fleur and Guillaume’s garage – both true.
This sounds like an interesting book.
Sherry,
All my adventures in Europe were a pleasure, which made it fun to recall and include in the story.
This sounds like a great read. The plot is intriguing.
I hope, in reading the story, you feel like you are right there with me. It was an exciting time!
Great excerpt! Very funny!
Thank you, Sue.
I had a blast recalling all the events when writing them down for *French Kiss.*
I thought it was Keanu Reeves on the cover. I’d certainly read this becasue I love him.
If it makes you happy to think of Keanu as Jean Louis, I say “Go for it!”