Countryhumans France Novels & Stories

After we spoke for some time about Maisie’s and Dakota’s pregnancies, I turned my attention to Lola “So what about you? Any baby plans?” “Mmm no not yet” she muffled with a mouthful of cheese ”but, we have planned, however, to visit Jay’s cousin and his wife at their pack in France. They have a big enough home for us to stay with them and they’re going to take us to do some sightseeing. Apparently, his wife knows France really well as she’s human.” “Human?” We all repeated in surprise. Although it wasn’t unheard of, it was still rare. We only had about two humans in our pack, but we had never met or known them personally.

Alexander wanted to know. "Absolutely. People who spend their whole lives learning about different cheeses. They're called fromagers." "From-a-what?" Alexander giggled. "Fromagers. It's French. In France, cheese is very serious business." I leaned against the kitchen counter, watching this domestic scene play out and feeling my heart swell with contentment. This was what I wanted. This easy, comfortable family dynamic where everyone felt valued and included. My phone buzzed with a text, interrupting my reverie. I glanced at the screen and saw a message from Camille.

Almost telepathically, everyone made their way to the center of the platform, then climbed down to the sea to wash, even most of the staff, especially the men who had been pressed into service. "I did not realize that Americans were so free sexually," one of the French women said in a heavy accent as she approached Krista, Susan, and Zach. "I can't speak for all American women, but we enjoy our sexuality," Krista said, "as you also seem to do." "Yes, it is the air of life," she said. "I am Annette and my husbands are Pierre and Claude and my wife Suzi." "You're all married together?" Krista asked, her eyes wide.

The look in her eyes and the way she responded to his kiss told him everything. He wondered how her uncle would respond to what had happened to his niece the previous night. From time to time, he participated in higher social circles, and he'd heard stories there. Michel de Bellamont wasn’t a man many people won over. He was harsh and very serious with his acquaintances and business partners, and Grant could only assume that carried over into his relationship with Fara. Being a blood relative would’ve made no difference. Though France was mainly Catholic in its beliefs, it was a country where people from many backgrounds merged, exchanging ideas and entertaining new forms of thought. At leas

"Just trust me, Patricia. You will be safe here. Come on, I'm starving." Even though confused, Patricia nodded and walked beside Felix. One thing that Patricia noticed from the people in France is the way they smile to the people they pass by. They are not snobbish, although Felix warned her that French people are awfully straightforward, that most of the times, foreigners found French people rude, and their words offensive.

"No, it's not like I'm in the mood to eat anything savoury now. I'll jist settle for snacks later" "I can get them for you if you like. We have the best here in France" "You don't have to. In fact, you can take a seat. It's not like I have anyone else to talk to here" "Everything I do here is limited to the kitchen only so I'd rather not stay but thank you for considering me a good company" "I don't know you yet so I can't completely say you're good company. Besides, I'll have to know more about the people I live with, wouldn't i?"

Putting another tolma into his mouth he signed into his laptop and navigated to the link Karineh had shared. Here she was in a summer dress; some strange green color, hugging her chest and waist. Her eyes looked dull. None of the usual golden fire in those green eyes. She was in a small café, an outdoor single table with way too much food in front of her. Maybe she was meeting with someone. But there was only one chair and one set of plates and glasses. Had she gone from cooking too much to eating too much? Villefranche-sur-Mer, Provence read Karineh’s information. So, she was in France. Just like she wanted. Was she living the life she had wanted? Happy, detached, forgotten. Was that a real

In a place such as Pellegrin Hospital, or the Institut Bergoniè, it loomed large in everyone’s mind, patients and doctors and nurses and porters and café staff alike. Still, Dr Le Collen had seen on the television last night, after Emmanuel Macron had said that France was at war no less, the crowded restaurants and bars of Paris and elsewhere, the joggers and walkers in the park, the free for all in the supermarkets, the response of some of his compatriots. God help them, he thought, as also in the news, the regions of Alsace began to look like a page from a book by Camus. God help them. ***

Henri, a wise and gentle soul, imparted wisdom garnered from his own experiences and offered guidance as Luna navigated the complexities of her global endeavors. During their walks through the picturesque French countryside, Luna shared the impact her organization had made in various parts of the world. She spoke passionately about her commitment to social justice, environmental sustainability, and empowering marginalized communities. Henri listened intently, his eyes reflecting a deep sense of pride in his granddaughter's accomplishments. Inspired by their conversations, Luna and Henri decided to embark on a joint project that would bridge their shared values with their love for France. Tog

It was cozy in here, to say the least. I settled on roasted vegetables and rice. The meat here was very strange to me. There were no cows or goats, so they ate other types of mammals that I doubted I could even call animals. There was a blue bird that had started getting popular. Not only were the feathers blue but the flesh, too. When fried, it had some greenish color that made it look like it was spoiled.