
A decade after she’d last been single, Austen enters the dating scene playing by a new set of rules in a different language, culture, and lingerie standards. She experiences every type of miserable first date imaginable and lives to tell the tales of Pierre the Mansplainer, Simon the Snoozer, Emile the Over-Sharer, Guillaume of the Gym Shorts, and many more. On most dates, she struggles to get past one glass of Bordeaux without wanting to bolt. Even worse, no one chases after her when she runs. It doesn’t take long for her to realize that whoever said French men were romantic deserves a swift kick in the pants.
Austen continues to ask herself: Is “having it all” too much to ask?
A genuine and tragically hilarious novel about an ex-pat woman's journey of self-discovery through a string of disastrous dates, relationships forged in a deep cultural divide, world travels, and wine. A lot of wine.
Chapter 1 - The City of Love
Paris was supposed to be the epicenter of romance where all great love stories began, but for Austen Keller, it was where her marriage died. It was a slow death dragged out over two long years, made longer by Parisians’ penchant for PDA—public displays of affection. Nothing truly puts heartbreak into focus like seeing countless couples making out in every absurdly charming café and on every cinematic street corner. In Paris, love was oxygen, and Austen was gasping for breath.
The final death knell rang as Austen and Brad emerged from the Palais de Justice courthouse on an unseasonably warm Indian summer day in September. They had just signed their divorce papers; she was officially a divorcée. They walked together silently toward a nearby bar. After ten years together and an amicable divorce, the moment needed to be marked somehow. But she didn’t plan to stay at the bar for long. There was no need to dwell. Brad was leaving Paris for good the next day, to move back to the States to rebuild his life. They ordered double shots of whiskey—the hard stuff—nothing else seemed appropriate.
“Here’s to the memories,” he offered, raising his glass.
“May we remember the good ones and learn from the rest.” Austen threw back the shot.
She returned to the apartment alone—the one she had up until four months ago shared with Brad. It was a beautiful Haussmanian apartment, the quintessential Parisian style of 19th century architecture, with herringbone wood floors and crown molding fit for royalty.
They moved to Paris when she’d landed a job as a speechwriter for François Vinet, a high-powered sales executive at a large technology company. Living in Paris had been her lifelong dream, so Brad had begrudgingly agreed to leave San Francisco, the only place he’d ever wanted to live. The day they’d moved in, she’d wondered how anyone could be unhappy in such a beautiful apartment. She’d thought it was going to be their fresh start.
And yet, here she was two years later, a divorcée.
She kicked off her heels and walked toward the large bouquet of red and purple flowers and another small package that had somehow appeared on her dining table. The concierge must have signed for them, she thought as she opened the card with the flowers.
“It’s a new dawn. It’s a new day. It’s a new life. And I’m feeling good.”
She smiled warmly, immediately recognizing Nina Simone’s lyrics.
“Here’s to new beginnings for you. Can’t wait to see you for NYE.
Love, Sam.”
Damn. That man sure has timing—and style.
Sam and Austen first met five years earlier in California while working at a boutique public relations agency. She was on the client-facing side of the business, and he was the finance director. They’d immediately become good friends and had maintained a close relationship. She (and most of their mutual friends) believed he’d always secretly pined for her. The flowers more or less confirmed it for her.
The last thing she wanted right now was a boyfriend who lived on the other side of the world. Her new Parisian life as a single woman was just beginning. She smelled the flowers somewhat guiltily. She quietly loved thinking of him wanting her from afar and was grateful the distance between them would keep things at bay, at least for a while. He and a few other friends from the States were coming to Paris for New Year’s Eve.
The package was from her college friend, Liz. Who knew divorce came with so many gifts? Flimsy lacy thongs in an array of bright colors tumbled out of the box, and she dug through them, searching for the card.
“You may now go get laid… finally!”
Austen laughed loudly at Liz’s crass message. Liz was the crazy one back in their university days. She had no filter. She always said the things others only dared to think about. It was what Austen loved the most about her.
Between their gifts, Sam and Liz had nailed it. Austen was sure there was no better way to start her new life than with a bouquet of beautiful flowers from an admirer and a set of lacy thongs from a wonderful friend.

She earned her French citizenship in early 2022 and left Microsoft that summer to focus on completing her first novel, Will There Be Wine?, which came out in January 2023. The story, while fiction, was deeply inspired by Whitney’s own experiences as an ex-pat divorcée living in Paris and trying to navigate the cultural minefield of dating in a foreign country. A sequel called Will There Be Love? will be out on April 29, 2025.
When she’s not writing, Whitney can be found sitting in Parisian cafés and restaurants with her friends, drinking wine.
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Sounds like a great read. I enjoyed the excerpt.
ReplyDeleteThank you from the author! I hope you'll check them out!
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