Novels Set In Paris Novels & Stories

He need not have worried grandfather's were either strict as their fathers, or their daughters cunning. The apartment was located in the fashionable 5th arrondissement, close to the place de la Madeline in an affluent area of the city where women wearing furs and carrying miniature dogs strolled the place Vendóme and Champs Elysées. The women amused Jason for he could tell that being seen was just as important to them, if not more important, than what they purchased. What would it be like, he wondered, to sit and watch their coming and going. And what would his father make of them? But he and Lola never stayed long enough to observe and, expect for a visit to the Opera and an evening of coff

The day after the day after, the atmosphere had settled into a new kind of quiet, a working quiet that was more unsettling than the tension that had preceded it. I was in the library, a room of dark wood and leather-bound books that smelled of dust and time. I was dusting the shelves, my movements efficient and precise, but my mind was not on the task. It was on a map, a map of a city I had never seen but was suddenly, irrevocably bound to. Paris. The word itself was a collection of images from books and films, a romanticized idea of a city I never thought I would see. And now I was going, not as a tourist, not as a free woman, but as a possession in a gilded cage. That changed everything.

**Evelina’s POV** I could scarcely believe that I’d stepped into a luxurious hotel room in the heart of Paris. The walls were adorned with hand-painted murals depicting scenes from French history, each one more exquisite than the last. In one corner stood a velvet chaise lounge so deep and inviting, it seemed to whisper my name like a sinful secret waiting to be uncovered. A grand four poster bed dressed in finest Egyptian cotton linens beckoned to us from its position in front of those breathtaking windows offering glorious views that stretched on for miles; showcasing a full frontal view of the Eiffel tower twinkling against the indigo sky.

“Well, better late than never. There’s a lot more to Paris than fancy restaurants and business meetings.” They found a small bench nearby and sat down to enjoy their food. Ryan observed the crowd, taking in the vibrant atmosphere. “I have to admit, this is a nice change of pace.” Juliette nodded. “Paris has a way of making people slow down and enjoy the little things.” Jefferson and the client’s assistant stood a few feet away, watching the interaction unfold. Jefferson whispered, “They look like they’ve known each other forever.” The client’s assistant shrugged. “That’s just how Paris works, my friend. It brings people together.”

The apartment sat above a bookshop on a narrow street in the 11th, nothing grand about it, nothing designed for tourists, which was exactly right for both of them. "There are twenty-two stairs," Isla announced, halfway up on the first evening, one hand braced against the wall. "I counted." "You could have told me that before I let the movers unload the crib on the fourth floor." "It was a discovery in progress." Paris in February wasn't performing for anyone — grey sky, cold air, the city just being itself in winter light, and Isla loved it immediately, standing at the kitchen window that first morning looking down at the street below.

she heard Mauvais but she only rolled her eyes while still napping and did not answer him. The settings of the novel were very different from theirs. The characters were also very different from them, especially the women. There were a lot of terminologies that didn’t exist in their world, but in the novel, it seemed like it really existed or maybe Lilia Desaix was so talented in conveying the settings and the characters of her novel. “Monde, miss Monde!” a pen landed on Clandes’ head. She sat straightly with wide eyes. She was so shocked looking at their teacher. Mauvais only shook his head and facepalmed. Some of their classmates laughed.