Daughters of Paris
by
Elisabeth Hobbes
Blog Tour
It's my turn on the blog tour for Daughters of Paris by Elisabeth Hobbes and I can bring you an extract today. The cover looks absolutely fabulous and from reading the blurb and extract, I will have to get a copy of this one! Enjoy the extract.
Extract
This scene
takes place in the autumn of 1938. Colette has been away visiting friends in
England for a few months and Fleur has begun working in a bookshop in the Montparnasse
area of Paris. Encouraged by Monsieur Ramper, her employer, she has gone out to
explore the area on her way home one evening and a café has cought her eye.
‘Mademoiselle?’ A
waiter dressed in black with a ruby-coloured apron around his waist approached
her. He stared at her through a pair of very thick, round glasses. His light
brown hair made Fleur think of an owl.
‘A table for one, or
are you meeting somebody?’
‘For one, please,’ she
replied. ‘But not too near the band.’
The waiter grinned. ‘Of
course. This way, please.’
He escorted Fleur to a
small table with two chairs set against the back wall and handed her a menu. He
returned a few moments later with a carafe of water and Fleur ordered a café
crème, thinking how disapproving Monsieur Ramper would be. One or two of
the other patrons looked at Fleur and she smiled back self-consciously. She
took a book out of her bag and began reading it, referring occasionally to her
English dictionary.
‘What are you reading?’
the waiter asked when he brought the coffee. She showed him the front cover.
‘Jane Eyerer?’
‘Eyre,’ she corrected. ‘It’s
an English book.’
The waiter pulled up a
chair and sat without asking. ‘You speak English?’
‘A little,’ she
admitted with pride. ‘Not enough to read this without a dictionary.’
‘You’re a student?’
Fleur took a sip of
coffee to delay answering and give herself a chance to observe him. He had a
searching face and was probably not much older than she was, though his glasses
and a line between his eyebrows – which Fleur was later to discover was the
result of a childhood spent squinting at the world without glasses – made him appear
older.
‘No, but I enjoy
reading and I’m trying to teach myself. I work in the bookshop a few streets away.’
This obviously met with
his approval because the waiter held out his hand. ‘I am Sébastien.’
Fleur shook it and told
him her name.
‘I am very pleased to
meet you, Fleur. I am a student,’ he said proudly. ‘Of art and
literature.’
‘And a waiter?’ Fleur
asked.
Sébastien’s jaw
tightened. ‘I need to eat. The café is owned by my second cousin, Bernard, and
he gives me as many shifts as I can manage. I don’t have rich parents like some
of them.’
He waved a hand around
the room. Fleur looked around. Thanks to living with Delphine, she could tell
many of the patrons were wearing quality garments.
‘Forgive me for saying
so, but this doesn’t seem like the sort of place where wealthy Parisians would
gather.’
His eyes grew hard, and
she thought she’d offended him but the corner of his mouth jerked into a quick
smile. ‘Very perceptive. Some of them like to pretend they are not rich. Some
have rejected families but kept the trappings before they slammed out of the
house.’ He leaned in close to Fleur and spoke in a low, drawling voice that
made the skin on the back of her neck shiver. ‘See Sabrina over there with the
black hair? She had a fight with her father and walked out of an apartment just
off the Champs-Élysées but went back the next day to pack three suitcases of
shoes, hats and bags.’
‘Naturally. How could
anyone survive otherwise?’ Fleur laughed. ‘I should bring my friend Colette
here. She would find it remarkable.’
She grew sober at the
mention of Colette’s name. She had never replied to Fleur’s letters so she
couldn’t really describe Colette as a friend any longer and on consideration,
she liked the idea of having something of her own.
Sébastien frowned. ‘If
she would view us as a circus or zoo exhibit, don’t bother. I’m afraid I had
better get on with work now.’ Sébastien picked up her empty cup and gave the
table a quick wipe. ‘I hope we will meet again, Fleur.’
She looked at his smile
and her stomach did a slow flip. ‘So do I.’
‘If you come on a
Wednesday evening, a few of us gather to discuss … the world. You’d be welcome
to join us.’ He’d paused before completing the sentence, leaving Fleur to
wonder what aspects of the world they discussed. Somehow, she could not imagine
this young man or his friends listening to this discordant noise while they sat
and nodded in agreement at government policies. Her scalp prickled with
excitement.
‘Yes, I would like
that, thank you.’
Elisabeth began writing in secret, but when she came third in Harlequin’s So You Think You Can Write contest in 2013, she was offered a two-book contract, and consequently had to admit why the house was such a tip. Elisabeth’s historical romances with Harlequin Mills & Boon and One More Chapter span the Middle Ages to the Second World War and have been Amazon bestsellers and award shortlisted.
Elisabeth is a primary school teacher but she’d rather be writing full time because unlike five-year-olds, her characters generally do what she tells them. When she isn’t writing, she spends most of her spare time reading and is a pro at cooking one-handed while holding a book.
She was born and raised in York but now lives in Cheshire because her car broke down there in 1999 and she never left.
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