I started reading My Paris Dream, by Kate Betts, the other night, and it had a funny effect on me. First of all, the writing is evocative and lovely, which I always love in a book. But it also manages to transport you to Paris and make you think of your time in Paris (if you’re lucky enough to have spent time there).
It’s making me relive the glorious times I had there last fall, when I visited with a friend. There’s something so magical about Paris that reliving your time there is nearly as pleasurable as the actual time spent there.
Ahhh, Paris! Swoon.