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About Nantes

Personal quirk here—I once met an escort in Tortuga, name of Isabella. Sweet lass, but her eyes? Haunted, like she’d seen too many sunsets. “Love is a fragile flower,” Tabu murmurs, and I felt that. She told me stories of clients—some sweet, some creepy as Davy Jones. Made me laugh, though, thinkin’ how I’d charm her better than any lord. Bet she’d prefer rum over roses!

AishaLatina (23)

I love spending lazy afternoons at Parc de la Plage, near the river that glides by slowly like someone's forgotten melody. Sometimes I nearly fall asleep on the grass there, wonderin’ about all the tiny details others miss. Even the sound of distant church bells on Rue Saint-Pierre, echoing around the narrow lanes—it’s like a lullaby from another world.

France: Theft of a Relic of the Precious Blood in Fécamp