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02 February 2023

The Paris Sister by Adrienne Chinn Blog Tour!

 


The Paris Sister

Three sisters separated by distance but bound by love.

The Fry sisters enter the Roaring Twenties forever changed by their experiences during the Great War. Now, as each of their lives unfold in different corners of the globe, they come to realise that the most important bond is that of family.

Desperate to save the man she loves, Etta leaves behind the life she has made for herself in Capri and enters the decadent world of Parisian society with all its secrets and scandals.

Celie’s new life on the Canadian prairies brings mixed blessings – a daughter to adore, but a husband who isn’t the man who holds her heart.

In Egypt, Jessie’s world is forever changed by a devastating loss.

And back in London – where each of their adventures began – their mother Christina watches as the pieces of her carefully orchestrated existence begins to shatter…with implications for them all…

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 Excerpt from The Paris Sister 

The following excerpt is a meeting in the Paris art gallery between Etta Fry Marinetti, the youngest of the three Fry sisters, and Francois DuRose, the art dealer whom she has engaged to sell her artist husband, Carlo’s, paintings. Carlo has been convicted of the murder of his first wife, Marianna, in order to marry Etta, and is in prison in Naples. Because of the scandal, his paintings are fetching huge prices, but, unfortunately, Etta has run out of his paintings to sell, and she needs the money to pay lawyers and bribe judges in order to gain a retrial for Carlo. In desperation, and being an artist herself, she has begun to supply the art dealer with artwork she has painted under Carlo’s name.

 Monsieur François DuRose of Galerie DuRose dabs at his lips with his handkerchief (Gaston having, much to his annoyance, neglected to provide napkins with the tea and macarons from Ladurée), as he eyes the chic figure of Madame Marinetti seated in the chair across from his desk. Her khaki-green tunic top, cape, and side-buttoned skirt are austere in their simplicity, set off only by a wide-brimmed black hat and ropes of pearls – the work of Mademoiselle Chanel, no doubt – though the colour is not, in his opinion, the most flattering for a fair-skinned blonde such as Madame Marinetti. He sniffs and presses the handkerchief against his nose. She has succumbed to the new scent as well -- Chanel No. 5 -- which now hangs over the streets of Paris like a cloud of bergamot and civet, and which now wafts through his gallery with Madame Marinetti’s every movement.

            ‘Are you certain you do not wish to taste one of the macarons, Madame Marinetti? I am particularly fond of the coffee-flavoured ones.’ He presses his thumb and forefinger together beside his mouth and makes a smacking sound with his pursed lips. ‘They are beyond exquisite.’

            Etta smiles at the art dealer. ‘Thank you. The tea is sufficient.’ She adjusts the folds of her cape. ‘What did you think of the latest shipment of Carlo’s paintings?’

            ‘Simply divine. There won’t be any difficulty selling these, so long your husband’s name remains in the newspapers. I understand the Marchese Ludovisi is objecting to any retrial on the grounds that your husband is a menace to society.’

            Etta smiles fades and she juts out her jaw. ‘My husband is no menace to anyone, Monsieur DuRose. He is the kindest, most loving man I have ever met. Carlo will get a retrial; you can be sure of that.’

‘Helped, no doubt, by the income from the sale of his paintings.’

Etta fixes Monsieur DuRose with a cold hazel green stare. ‘Good lawyers are very expensive.’

The art dealer expels a deep breath and rests his elbows on the arms of his chair. ‘Madame Marinetti, your husband has been in prison for over two years. Obviously, he has been unable to produce any new work since his arrest.’

            ‘Yes?’

            ‘I have been wondering how it is that there appears to be no shortage of supply. I am not complaining, to be sure. We are both benefitting exceptionally well from the sale of his work.’

            ‘I’m sorry, Monsieur DuRose, but I fail to see your point.’

            ‘Madame Marinetti, I am simply concerned about when the supply will …,’ he clears his throat, ‘… dry up.’ He leans forward in his chair. ‘It would be a great shame for both of us if it did.’

            Etta relaxes in the bent-wood chair. She had been worried for a moment. Worried that Monsieur DuRose might call her bluff.

He knows. He knows that someone else is painting Carlo’s artworks. If only she could tell him that it’s her. That she is the one who has transformed Carlo’s “derivative” work into art on par with the best of Picasso’s and Modigliani’s. She bites her lip to keep herself from shouting it out. It’s me! I’m the great artist! It’s been me all along!

            There is another thing Monsieur DuRose knows. He knows that as long as Carlo is in jail, and there is a regular supply of ‘his’ art, they will make money. A lot of money. And this, as he says, is to their mutual benefit. It seems that his greed has rescued her from admitting the fraud. Without Carlo, she is a nobody. Worse than that, she is a female nobody.

She nods her head toward the plate of macarons. ‘I will have a macaron after all, that you. A coffee-flavoured one, as you suggest.’

He offers her the plate and she selects one the delicacies. She takes a bite and watches him watch her as she chews. She sets the half-eaten macaron on her saucer and dabs her saucer and at her lips with a napkin.

‘You are right. It is delicious.’

The art dealer nods. ‘I am gratified that you agree.’

She folds her hands in her lap. ‘Monsieur DuRose, I can assure you that I have located a large collection of my husband’s paintings and sketches in an old storeroom behind Carlo’s flat in Naples. To my mind, neither of us have to worry about running out of supply any time soon.’

The art dealer’s fox-like face breaks into a chilly smile under his pencil-thin moustache. ‘That is excellent. Very excellent, indeed.’ He pushes the plate of macarons across the desk. ‘Please, have another macaron. I simply must insist.’

Adrienne Chinn was born in Grand Falls, Newfoundland, grew up in Quebec, and eventually made her way to London, England after a career as a journalist. In England she worked as a TV and film researcher before embarking on a career as an interior designer, lecturer, and writer. Her debut novel, The Lost Letter, a timeslip love story set in Morocco, was published by Avon Books UK in 2019. Her second novel, The English Wife -- a timeslip story set in World War II England and contemporary Newfoundland -- was published in June 2020 and has become an international bestseller. Her third novel, Love in a Time of War, the first in a series of four books in The Three Fry Sisters series, was published in February 2022. The second book in the series, The Paris Sister, will be published in February 2023.

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