Résultats pour "Pumpkins, Spices" dans Pur et sain

Natalie has high hopes for her move across the country to start a new life with her boyfriend. Those plans hit a snag the moment her flight lands and she finds out he is married. Now devastated and wishing she owned more elastic-waist pants, Natalie does her best to get off her great-aunt’s couch and put the pieces of her life back together. But the world is hard, and the couch is soft.

Desperate for help raising his kids after his wife dies, Tom hires a live-in housekeeper sight unseen—only to open the door to Lacy Wilson, the girl who broke his heart seventeen years ago. She was his first love. The one who walked away. Now she’s back—broke, newly divorced, and needing this job as badly as he needs to fill it. Tom wants to send her packing, but he can’t afford to. So they strike a truce: she’ll stay in the apartment above his garage, cook, clean, and care for his kids... without stirring up the past.

Eigentlich ist Jude nur für die Hochzeit ihrer Schwester in ihre Heimat zurückgekehrt. Denn das englische Örtchen steht für alles, was die rastlose 26-Jährige hasst: Beständigkeit, Gemütlichkeit und Kleinstadt-Gossip. In Lower Whilby angekommen geht jedoch alles drunter und drüber. Und das hat vor allem mit James zu tun. Der grummelige Barista ist der Sohn legendärer Brit Pop-Stars, ziemlich attraktiv – und überhaupt nicht erfreut darüber, dass Jude ihn für ihren Musikpodcast ausquetschen will. Als er Jude aus der Not heraus in seinem Café anstellt, geht sie ihm nicht nur auf die Nerven.

Hazel Thompson has made peace with long hours, lukewarm coffee, and a life built around caring for everyone else. As a nurse in a small mountain town, she’s used to being steady, even when the world around her isn’t. Love, she tells herself, is for people with more time and fewer scars.

Paris in the fall. The Eiffel Tower, the blanket of colorful leaves on the ground of the Jardin du Luxembourg, and the picturesque cobbled streets of Montmartre. Sounds amazing, right? That's exactly what I thought when my boss offered me to come here to critique restaurants. Well, the reality is a completely different beast. There is no accordion music playing in the street, the city smells like smoke, and I have yet to see a single guy wearing a beret! This was all a lie. To top it all, I'm now a prisoner of this city because of a national strike keeping all planes on the ground.