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451 pages, Hardcover
First published March 31, 2020
"I raise one palm and shove it toward his face while I unbuckle myself with my other hand. He's muttering profanities as I unzip my purse and dig through the contents looking for my tube of Lizzie Arden lipstick. For once, I'm not concerned about my forged travel documents or the one million French francs neatly stacked inside. Nor do I double-check that I still have the list of targets that must, no matter what, be distributed once the Allied forces land in France. I am frantic to find that slender tube of courage. Victory Red. The color of war and confidence and freedom. Finally, my pinky brushes against the cool, familiar metal and I pluck it from my purse along with the silver compact Buckmaster gave me as a parting gift. We've now passed the drop zone and the Liberator turns back around in a lazy, rumbling circle, but I meticulously apply the lipstick.
"What on earth are you doing?" the dispatcher shouts.
"Putting on my armor."
"It looks like a painting. Marseille is a city of hilltop villas and sleek yachts. Tile roofs. Beryl seas. Tanned legs. Twisting, narrow streets. Its central thoroughfare, the Canebiere, leads from the glinting waters of the Mediterranean straight into the hills that drip with grapevines. It smells of salt water, baking bread, and bouillabaisse. Of fresh basil and day lilies. There are fish markets and casinos. Hotels and dance halls. Bistros. Beaches. Cafes. Tiny little parks that are half the size of a city block. And flowers everywhere. It is a cascade of color. It is overwhelming in the most delicious way."
"War is a calamity. It brings sorrow and loss of life. It hardens the human soul.
"The thing about lipstick, the reason it is so powerful, is that it is distracting. Men don't see the flashes of anger in your eyes or your clenched fists when you wear it. They see a woman, not a warrior, and that gives me the advantage. I cannot throw a decent punch or carry a grown man across a battlefield, but I can wear red lipstick as though my life depends on it. And the truth is, these days, it often does."
"Gentlemen of the human race, I say to hell with the lot of you.----- VICTOR HUGO, LES MISERABLES
"You who suffer because you love, love still more. To die of love, is to live by it."----- VICTOR HUGO, LES MISERABLES