Thursday, June 17, 2010

Guest Post from Holly Cupala, author of Tell Me A Secret

Today, I have the amazing Holly Cupala. Holly's birthday is on the 2oth and her Book Birthday for Tell Me A Secret is on the 22th. I am excited to have another June girl and also that her book is finally coming out. I have met Holly several times and she is always sweet. Anyways I let her tell you a story of romance in France.
First of all, Happy Birthday to Sarah and Zoe, and thank you for inviting me to celebrate in Birthday Palooza! My birthday (and my book’s) are next week!
Sarah asked for my most memorable birthday…so I’ll tell you about one that sticks in my mind to this day. Summer Solstice, the south of France, amazing boy…but wait, I’m getting ahead of myself.
I saved up my entire senior year of high school for my French teacher’s biannual trip to France—and there we were, in Nice, on my eighteenth birthday. It was the night of the Solstice Festival, where a crazy mélange of people from all over the world who had come to party and celebrate summer.
I was a bit nerdy and shy back then, but my friends on the trip had dressed me up and taken me to a club—red-lit and smoky and completely packed because of the festival. My friends paired off, and I ended up in the bathroom line.
That’s when a French girl leaned over to me and said, in English, “My brother thinks you’re cute.”
I looked over and there was this…well, he was…brown eyes, very nice smile…I was completely blushing. (And maybe a little of this memory played into a certain scene in TELL ME A SECRET…?)
I said, “I think he’s cute, too.”
And for some goofy reason, I thought he wouldn’t understand me (maybe because it was his sister who had talked to me). But then…he said, “Thank you.” Whoa.
I’ll spare you some of the details of attraction here, but they invited me to sit down with them. Here’s how our conversation went:
Him: Tell me something in French. Me: No, no. My French is not good.Him: Something. Anything.Me: No, I'm embarrassed. I only know a little French.Him: Please? (Probably with some flirtatious blinking in there.) Me: What do you want me to say?Him: Say…say ‘I love you.’Me: Okay. Je t’aime. He was quiet for a moment, and said, "Je t’aime aussi.” (Sheesh! French guys!) Then he leaned across the table and kissed me.
So we ended up going for a walk on the beach and looking at the stars. By this time my friends were trashed, but I was in the midst of something entirely magical. I was not American, he was not French. We were not yet in France, and the Cote d'Azur and Nice. We were in our own world. Kisses followed.
He and his friends drove me back to the hotel—he gave me his coat because I was cold. We hugged goodbye. I forgot to get his address and he forgot to get mine, but I’ll pretty much never forget Guilliame. So…yes, it was a memorable birthday.
Sarah and Zoe, I hope yours are memorable as well!

1 comment:

Thanks for visiting. Every comment creates a smile.


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