http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5421617/1/Girl_with_a_Red_Umbrella
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5421672/1/Girl_with_a_Red_Umbrella
http://twilighted.net/viewstory.php?sid=8166
Official Description: Paris, 1950. The war is over and Paris is alive again with artists, writers and musicians. Rosalie Hale went abroad to study in this exciting and romantic city, but instead she vanished without a trace. Now her best friend, Bella, has come on her own to find her. She teams up with Rose’s spunky roommate, and they are joined in the search by an American businessman, a battle-scarred reporter, and a handsome painter with his own mysterious past. Following a trail of clues left behind by Rose’s letters, they plunge into the dark side of the City of Lights. Who is Royce? What secrets is he hiding? Why did Rose really leave? The search for Rose and life in Paris just might change Bella in ways she never imagined.
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WriteOnTime says: In a fic world littered with same-old, same-old plots, “Girl with a Red Umbrella” shines as a fantastic example of what can happen when authors make a real effort to research and plan a story. This lovely tale transports the reader to post-war Paris in the 1950s, where the women all wear gorgeous, feminine clothes, the men are actually gentlemen, and the avant-garde artistic spirit thrives amid a mystery of how and why gorgeous Rosalie Hale of Forks, Washington suddenly disappeared without a trace.
Rose’s best friend from home, sensible Bella Swan, is so worried about Rose’s abrupt lack of communication that she impulsively hops on a plane, traveling halfway around the world to the City of Lights in a desperate attempt to find her friend. Alone, frightened, and completely out of her element, Bella joins forces with Rose’s equally-mystified flatmate Alice to discover what happened.
The Bella we meet at the start of the story is a naive hometown girl who thought her entire life was neatly and appropriately planned. School, a job as a teacher, marriage to local boy Jacob. She’s never been away from home. She’s never done anything unexpected. From the moment she lands in Paris, Bella is forced to question everything about her life and the plans she had for it. Many of those questions arrive in the form of Edward Cullen: painter, jazz pianist, and British ex-pat, living la vie Boheme on the Left Bank. This Edward is so effortlessly sexy, so talented and charming and romantic, that you’ll absolutely want to climb the Eiffel Tower and sing his praises to the world. He’s the type of man they don’t build anymore.
What I love about this story is that it sets the mood so perfectly. Post-war Paris is almost a character itself. The secondary characters, like a truly fabulous Esme, have life and color to them. The mystery of Rose’s disappearance shadows everything, but never overwhelms the subplots. Bella is innocent, but not stupid. Edward is completely wonderful, but not two-dimensional. And romantic? Please. It’s Edward and Bella in Paris.
It’s that kind of black-and-white movie hot that most fics don’t know how to deliver. The kind of hot in which a kiss is so sexy that your scalp will sweat when it finally happens.
So. Mystery. Romance. Danger. Glamour. Terrific writing and a great ensemble. You complain that there’s nothing different and good out there? Stop complaining and start reading this – you won’t be sorry you did.
Kassiah says: What else can I say about the fabulousness that is Girl with a Red Umbrella? I’ve got one word for you:
swoonward
Okay, okay, two more words: He’s. British.
I don’t know what happened next. I really don’t. I swear I didn’t plan it. I wasn’t even thinking about it. Okay, that was a lie, I was thinking about it, but I was absolutely not planning on acting on it. But she had her hand on my arm, and she was looking up at me with those amazing brown eyes and her face was suddenly…finally…soft and relaxed, and I don’t know. The next thing I knew I was leaning in and my lips were on hers and it was….heaven. And she didn’t pull away. She gasped a little and stiffened, but then she just stood still, with my lips on hers. The second I realized what I’d done, I froze. I didn’t try to deepen the kiss, no matter how much I wanted to, I just held still. Then I thought I felt her soften against me, ever so slightly. So I moved my lips a fraction, just the barest caress of my lips on hers.
This story is mysterious and romantic, and like WriteOnTime said, glamourous. I absolutely love it and can’t wait for more.
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