You are invited to subscribe to my regular newsletter, Tuscan Snippets, in which I share aspects of the history and characters in my novels, as well as glimpses of daily life in my magical corner of Tuscany. And last, but not least, advance notice and special discounts on new novels and audiobooks. And I absolutely, hand on my heart, Girl Guides’ honour promise never ever to sell your email address to anyone, not for anything.
To whet your appetite, below is a copy of the very first newsletter:
Those who read the novel, Forget Me Not, may recall the sibling characters, Giovanni and Manuella Balducci. Giovanni, against strict orders, climbed the tall sour cherry tree while Manuella sat at its base and plaited a chain of daisies.
Giovanni teased his sister by calling out, ‘Guess what I can see.’
‘The sea,’ Manuella replied with a wistful sigh. ‘What does it look like?’
‘An upside down, blue-side-up sky that moves.’
And so it is today, as I sit on my terrace filled with terra-cotta pots of flowering hortensia beneath a powder-blue sky.
Spoiler Alert! No, I won’t give away what happened to the Balducci family on that fateful day when Giovanni got stuck in the forbidden sour cherry tree.
This year I kept careful watch over my cherry tree, because last year crows from nowhere gathered upon the roof of my house for several days. They made a fearful racket and aggressively chased off other birds. I found their behaviour and numbers curious, and tried to discard the memory of Alfred Hitchcock’s movie, ‘The Birds’.
One, still-light evening upon my return home, blessed silence reigned. Not a single crow was in sight and nor was there a single cherry left on the tree. I am embarrassed to admit I immediately blamed thieves – my neighbours, (I hope they never read this) for sour cherries, as the siblings’ twin, spinster aunts knew, make the very best jam.
My gardener informed me that crows know precisely when the cherries are at their best and on that day scarf down the lot. Next cherry season I shall take his advice and suspend old CDs from the branches which keeps thieving crows at bay.
With the abundant rain, whatever is green has taken on such an exaggerated hue, it hurts my eyes. This, combined with the blue sky and sea, and birds’ continuous whistles and chirps, makes my magical corner of Tuscany simply quite perfect.
But all is not quite perfect. My stomach is aflutter, no different to the multitudinous, fluttering here-and-there of white butterflies. The second novel in the trilogy, Love Me Not, is I feel, akin to a bride stepping into her gown for the final fitting. In less than twenty days, Love Me Not will enter the world.
On one hand I am thrilled, on the other I am filled with anxiety. My guess is most mothers’ feel similarly on the day of their grown-up child’s wedding day. My hope is that Love Me Not will be received with as much warmth and approval as Forget Me Not was! Just a little longer to wait…
Oh, and the third novel, I hear voices ask? Sometime in early 2019. Watch this space.
