Writing, Writing, Writing

Hello, everyone!

I am blogging to let you know that my second book, The Hills Of

Tuscany, is now available for purchase! You can find it by clicking here. I have included an excerpt from this book in case you're interested in reading ahead. ;-) Have fun!

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The Hills

Of

Tuscany

Book Two: The Broken Woman Cycle

By

G. J. Brown

Introduction

     Dante stood in the rain, his solemn honeyed gaze trained on his father. Basilio Antoine glared at him from the loggia of their ancestral home, a stone villa nestled on several acres located in the countryside just outside Siena, Tuscany.

     “Why have you come back here?” Basilio shouted. “You spurned our vineyard to choose a life in the Arma dei Carabinieri and look what it has brought to this family. Go now and never return!”

     Dante would not deny this truth. He had lived a life of vengeance and now it would destroy them all. When he was a young boy, his mother had been murdered by a member of a criminal organization controlled by the Marino family. The men responsible were not convicted, so Dante had devoted himself to joining the Raggruppamento Operativo Speciale. After years of training and climbing the ranks, he had finally managed to position himself exactly where he wanted to be. His team dealt specifically with the Marino family. They were not involved with the mafia, so it was not a very high-priority operation, but Dante did not care. All he wanted was revenge for his mother’s death.

     For months, he had been successfully working undercover toward that revenge. It was unclear when or how his identity was revealed.

     Instead of having him murdered, one of the criminals decided to make an example out of him. Dorian Marino, the son of the boss, struck at his family instead. He tricked Dante’s sister into falling in love with him. On the night she agreed to marry him, he revealed who he was, broke her heart, and tried to take her life. Dante discovered this plan at the last moment and managed to save her.

     Today, they had testified against the Marino family together. There was enough evidence to completely bring down the organization. Unfortunately, the heir to the empire was still at large. Dorian had somehow managed to escape and was more determined than ever to carry out his twisted retribution. He claimed many friends in Italy, so there was only one option. Dante had to get his sister out of the country.  

     “I have come for Caprice,” he finally answered. “You know as well as I do that she cannot stay here.”

     His father turned an ugly purple shade.

     “If you think I will let you take her, then you are a fool!” Basilio snarled. “She almost lost her life because of you!”

     “I stopped that from happening,” Dante answered. “If Dorian had not escaped, then this would be over. But he did and he will come for her. It has been determined that he is now a matter for the local police and Caprice will not be put under witness protection, but Dorian has too many friends. I have the skills to protect her and I know Marino’s reach will be limited outside of Italy. You have to let her go with me. It is her best chance.”

     Basilio Antoine clenched his jaw and glared at Dante with so much loathing that it was clear he wished he did not have a son.

     “Was the life I offered you so bad?”

     He demanded and Dante winced at his expression.    

     “No, Papa. It is only that mother deserved justice.”

     They stared at each other in sadness, both thinking of the woman in question. Jeanette had been a great beauty, possessing luxurious brown hair and violet eyes. Her gentle spirit, though, was the most beautiful part of who she was. She was raised on a vineyard in France, so she had been a perfect helpmeet for Basilio. Dante’s father had not pursued her murderers because he wanted to protect his children, but Dante had been sure he could get justice without endangering his family. He had failed.

     “Dante speaks the truth, Papa.”

     Caprice’s gentle voice came from behind them, so soft that it was almost made inaudible by the rain. She stepped into the dim light of the loggia and looked as delicate as she sounded. She had the straight black hair of her father, but the violet eyes and sweet disposition of her mother. There were tear streaks down her face and her creamy skin was pale.

     “I do not wish to lose both of my children.”

     Basilio answered hoarsely. Caprice smiled gently and placed her slim hand on his forearm.

     “You will never lose us. We love you, no matter how far apart we are. One day, when this is all over, we will return.”

     Dante knew it was very possible that they would never come back. Even if they did, his father might be dead by that time.

     “It will not be safe here,” he said. “You and Nonna should come with us.”

     “Your grandmother and I will not leave this vineyard,” Basilio scoffed. “And God help the man who tries to make us. Your only concern now is taking care of my daughter.”

    Dante stared into his father’s eyes for a moment, and then nodded to show he understood. As Caprice went inside to pack a small bag, he resolved to leave a trail for Marino to follow. Perhaps this would be enough to protect the rest of his family.

     As Caprice returned and stepped into the rain to stand beside him, Dante looked one last time at his father.

     “Forgive me,” he said. “I never meant for this to happen. I thought I could avenge her.”

     Basilio sighed deeply and joined his children in the rain. Then he placed both hands on his son’s shoulders.

     “You have,” he said wearily. “I do not wish to part with such anger between us. I will be protected enough by the local authorities, so do not worry over me or your grandmother. You did what you thought was best. It is only that my greatest fear seems to have come true. My children flee for their lives and I may never see them again.”

     Then Basilio hugged them once more and watched as they disappeared into the rain.

     This was the last time Dante ever saw his father...

     As he once again walked up the cobblestone path to the villa, tired and world weary, he thought of this last meeting. It was several years later and he was much older, finally able to pick up the tattered remnants of his life and move forward.

     The night he left with his sister was the beginning of a long and harrowing experience. Marino was a persistent killer and did not wish for his prey to escape. Because of a man named Jacob Kenway and a collection of friends, though, Dorian was now dead and the threat was finally over. After so many years of running and fighting to survive, Caprice Antoine took what money Dante could offer and used her newfound freedom to travel and heal.

     So Dante returned alone, having lost both his father and his sister.

     As he approached the villa where he grew up, he knew the adjustment would be difficult. He was accustomed to the life of a fugitive and not all of his memories of Italy were pleasant. In fact, most of them were not. He remembered his family, though, and his eyes burned with determination.

     “You were right, Papa,” he said. “I should have chosen this life from the beginning. From this day forward, I will live in a way that will make you proud.”

Chapter One

     Abigail Simon curled up in a little ball under her Disney Princess blanket and tried not to breathe. Tightening her small, six-year-old hands into fists, she attempted to ignore the shouting down the hall.

     “Now I lay me down to sleep…”

     She whispered tearfully, jumping when she heard a loud crash and her mother’s scream.

     “No, Phil! NO! Leave her alone!”

     Abby’s little heart kicked into overdrive. A frantic sob escaped her and she covered her ears with her hands.

     “I pray the Lord my soul to keep…”

     Her words were high-pitched and desperate. She could hear the fighting in front of her door now. She knew what came next, but she didn’t want to face it. She wanted to stay under her Disney Princess blanket and pretend she was in a castle far away where her prince charming would save her.

     “Shut up, Helena! She needs to learn not to leave her toys laying all over this God-forsaken house! I’m going to teach her a lesson!”

     There was the sound of flesh hitting flesh. Something slammed against the wall and Abby started crying in loud sobs.

     “The angels watch me through the night!”

     She cried, but the prayer was never finished. Her door was kicked open and someone grasped the blanket. She gripped it with her puny hands, but her father tore it away from her. Her eyes flew to his enraged face and she tried to scramble out of reach, but he grabbed her by the arm and jerked her into the air.

     “No, Daddy! No! I’m sorry I forgot! Please!”

     She begged, but he had already pulled back his fist to strike her. Her face was level with his as she dangled above the floor, her arm throbbing where he twisted it painfully. He was screaming at her, but the words wouldn’t register. All she could feel was the pain.

     “Please! Please!”

     Abigail awoke in a cold sweat, the memories filling her with a familiar sense of agony and fear. She sat up in bed and covered her face with shaking hands.

     She was in the small, rundown house where she grew up in Hanalei, Kauai. It had been eighteen years and she still couldn’t sleep under this roof without having nightmares. Rolling out of bed, she pulled on her fluffy robe and walked to the window. She opened it to let in some fresh air and tried to ignore the old washing machine propped against the frame. The cool night breeze calmed her heartbeat and soothed the tightness in her chest. 

     “God, I hate this house.”

     She whispered bitterly as she studied her own reflection in the window glass. Her shoulder-length auburn hair stuck out in all directions and her eyes had decided to be gray-green this morning. She was pale and freckled, not at all what you would expect from a girl raised in Hawaii. Her father had come to the islands for work and left his family behind when she was ten, but by then the damage was done. When he disappeared, she and her mother were poor and broken, but Abby was a talented artist and started making her own money as soon as she was old enough. She had taken care of her mother ever since. And now Lillian, as well.

     In a line of endless romances, her mother had gotten pregnant by another man. Since Helena’s relationships sometimes lasted only one night, there was no way of knowing who the father was. Helena did okay alone with Lilly for a while, but then Abby caught wind of the kind of men allowed at the house and decided to move back in to protect her sister. Since she was rather incompetent around men, she demanded that her mother stop letting them come into their home. This resulted in a huge argument, but Abby won in the end. So she had spent her last few semesters at college taking online classes, staying in the house she despised so she could look after her mother and raise her sister. Now she was a full-fledged artist, with a BA to prove it.

     Fat lot of good that does me.

     She thought sarcastically. Abby made a nice little profit from her paintings, but she was looking for a steadier job. Maybe teaching. She needed something that would help her pay off her extensive student loans and support her family. Her talent was good enough to pay the bills, but that was about it. Lilly needed more than that. Abby wasn’t going to get her studio apartment in France where she only had to worry about herself, but some things were more important than pipedreams.

     A smile dawned on Abby’s face as she thought of her little sister. Lilly was a beautiful child. There had never been a sweeter, cuter four-year-old. It was worth everything to keep her safe.

     So now Abby was back in the house of nightmares. She was saving every penny she could, hoping one day to amass enough to buy a new house and maybe move to the Mainland. Nothing about Hawaii felt like home now that her best friend, Malia Kenway, had gotten married and left to save the world. She still visited Malia’s family sometimes. The Kenways were the nicest rich people Abby had ever met, but she rarely saw them now that Malia was gone. Somehow, it felt strange to visit her friend’s parents alone. Jacob and Lani were amazing people, but Abby felt like an imposition on them.

     “One day we’ll get out of here, Lilly.”

     She whispered. The only hope she had now was starting a new life somewhere. It was time for her mother to leave this place behind. Maybe then they could all move forward. Abby sighed and sent up a prayer that this fantasy could become a reality. It was the last chance they had at being a real family.

     Now that she was awake, she dreaded going back to sleep. Instead, she stretched and headed to the kitchen to make coffee. Once the coffee was brewing, she let her mind wander as she waited.

     She really missed Malia. They had been through a lot together. About a year and a half ago, Malia was kidnapped by an insane criminal named Dorian Marino. He’d wanted revenge against the Kenways for protecting a family from Italy. It was a mini war right here in Hawaii and Abby had been caught in the crossfire. She was with Malia on the night she was taken, so they were both made captives. They almost didn’t make it out alive. Therefore, she could accurately say that Malia was her very best friend in the entire world.

     Still, even Malia didn’t know her completely. It wasn’t that she was a bad friend. Abby just didn’t find it easy to open up to anyone. She tried to be a successful, intelligent, and humorous young woman. Inside, though, she was a total wreck. This was only apparent when she came into contact with a man who made her feel threatened. In those situations, she dissolved into incapacitating fear.

     Abby was getting better, though. She had clawed her way through college and recently managed to sustain a relationship with Terrance Williams. He had stayed with her despite her issues and continued to be a constant source of emotional support.

     The coffeepot beeped and Abby was pulled out of her thoughts. She poured herself a cup and took a grateful sip. Still recovering from what had happened the night she was kidnapped, it was not unusual when she made the rounds to check on her family.   

     She shuffled out of the kitchen, her fuzzy slippers scratching against the aging yellow tiles on the floor. First, she peeped into Lilly’s pretty pink room. Her sister was sleeping peacefully under a royal purple comforter. The child looked like an angel with her long, curly blond hair spilling across the pillow. Abby smiled affectionately and crept down the hallway to open her mother’s door. As she looked inside, she examined Helena Simon’s still form and pale face in the dim light. Abby had never seen her mother healthy or happy. Helena had struggled with depression for many years, traumatized by each failed attempt to rise above the desolation.

     Abby sighed sadly and started to close the door, but she froze when she spotted an empty pill bottle on her mother’s nightstand. With a growing sense of horror, her eyes flew to the bottle of vodka beside it.

     “Mom!?”

     She shouted, throwing open the door and flipping on the lights. With that one act of blinding illumination, she realized that her mother wasn’t sleeping. She felt her arm fall slowly to her side and heard her coffee spilling onto the floor. It was followed by the thump of her coffee mug and the sound jarred her into action. Suddenly she was running, shouting, grasping her mother’s cold form. The world slipped into slow motion and she knew she was crying. She was almost incoherent by the time she got through to 911, but the whole time she already knew.

     Helena Simon was dead.