An escapist summer read set in idyllic Sorrento - the first in a series of heartwarming standalone tales set in Italy's most romantic and evocative locations.
Grab a cocktail, sit back and escape...
Maia Connolly never expected to find herself widowed at forty-five. Her beloved husband died unexpectedly while restoring their nineteenth century Italian farmhouse on a secluded hillside in Sorrento.
Since his death, money is tight which is why Maia decides to open the farmhouse to tourists as summer accomodation.
Uncertain of her business capabilities and even more of her hospitality skills, she is thrown in at the deep end when her first bookings appear and new guests all arrive over the same week.
First there’s Jacob, an attractive New Yorker of Italian origin who has returned to the area to visit his ailing father.
Amelia, a shy twenty-something London girl is in Sorrento for a friend’s wedding. But she seems hesitant about the details and her connection to the bridal party.
Cal and Lori have returned to Italy for their ten-year anniversary in the hope of recapturing some of the spark lost from their marriage. Can the beauty and romance of Sorrento help them rekindle their love for each other?
And will each of Maia’s summer guests find their worries eased and hearts lightened by the beauty of this magical place...
SUMMER IN SORRENTO
SPRING IN SICILY
AUTUMN IN VERONA
WINTER IN ROME
Note: All stories are standalone and can be read in any order.
Settling back in a wooden deck chair that Jim had built when they first moved to Italy, Maia thought back over the journey that had brought her to where she was today. Jim had said that it was necessary to enjoy this view before all other things, including a finished or renovated house.
The breeze ruffled the branches of the lemon trees around her and she felt an instant wave of calm wash over her. It was here, in this spot, drinking wine and simply relaxing, where she felt closest to Jim. She had been truly devastated when he passed—she had never expected to be a widow while only in her mid-forties, and the idea of being alone in a foreign country without the benefit of family or an extensive network of friends had almost set Maia running back to Ireland.
But then she realised something. Italy and the experience that she and Jim had in this country together, had been uniquely theirs, albeit a short one.
Her life in Ireland had other dynamics at play—and she worried that if she went back that she may risk losing that part of Jim—that essence—that had made him so happy in the days before his heart attack.
Her sister Joyce in Dublin had told her that by staying in Italy she was pursuing an impossible dream, and living in the past. But Maia disagreed—and instead committed herself to living the reality that Jim had dreamed of, but had sadly missed out on.
She breathed in the scent of citrus that floated around her nose and looked out over the horizon. She watched as an ocean liner made its way steadily out of the Bay of Naples and toward the open sea.
“Floating hotels Jim, that’s what you always called them wasn’t it?” Maia smiled, talking to the air. She laughed at the memory; Jim could never understand how tourists believed that this was visiting another country, taking a boat from place to place, disembarking to hit up the souvenir stalls in order to buy a fridge magnet so that they could tell the people at home that they had seen Naples or been to Sorrento.
“Do you think I’m likely to get visitors like that here?” she asked the sky, only to be greeted by silence. She took a sip of her wine and paused for a moment to close her eyes and relish the fragrant bouquet that tickled her tongue. “No,” she whispered. “It’s not likely I will get cruise-goers, not if they want to stay overnight. But I wonder who will visit me."
Grab a cocktail, sit back and escape...
Maia Connolly never expected to find herself widowed at forty-five. Her beloved husband died unexpectedly while restoring their nineteenth century Italian farmhouse on a secluded hillside in Sorrento.
Since his death, money is tight which is why Maia decides to open the farmhouse to tourists as summer accomodation.
Uncertain of her business capabilities and even more of her hospitality skills, she is thrown in at the deep end when her first bookings appear and new guests all arrive over the same week.
First there’s Jacob, an attractive New Yorker of Italian origin who has returned to the area to visit his ailing father.
Amelia, a shy twenty-something London girl is in Sorrento for a friend’s wedding. But she seems hesitant about the details and her connection to the bridal party.
Cal and Lori have returned to Italy for their ten-year anniversary in the hope of recapturing some of the spark lost from their marriage. Can the beauty and romance of Sorrento help them rekindle their love for each other?
And will each of Maia’s summer guests find their worries eased and hearts lightened by the beauty of this magical place...
ESCAPE TO ITALY SERIES
SUMMER IN SORRENTO
SPRING IN SICILY
AUTUMN IN VERONA
WINTER IN ROME
Note: All stories are standalone and can be read in any order.
Excerpt
Settling back in a wooden deck chair that Jim had built when they first moved to Italy, Maia thought back over the journey that had brought her to where she was today. Jim had said that it was necessary to enjoy this view before all other things, including a finished or renovated house.
The breeze ruffled the branches of the lemon trees around her and she felt an instant wave of calm wash over her. It was here, in this spot, drinking wine and simply relaxing, where she felt closest to Jim. She had been truly devastated when he passed—she had never expected to be a widow while only in her mid-forties, and the idea of being alone in a foreign country without the benefit of family or an extensive network of friends had almost set Maia running back to Ireland.
But then she realised something. Italy and the experience that she and Jim had in this country together, had been uniquely theirs, albeit a short one.
Her life in Ireland had other dynamics at play—and she worried that if she went back that she may risk losing that part of Jim—that essence—that had made him so happy in the days before his heart attack.
Her sister Joyce in Dublin had told her that by staying in Italy she was pursuing an impossible dream, and living in the past. But Maia disagreed—and instead committed herself to living the reality that Jim had dreamed of, but had sadly missed out on.
She breathed in the scent of citrus that floated around her nose and looked out over the horizon. She watched as an ocean liner made its way steadily out of the Bay of Naples and toward the open sea.
“Floating hotels Jim, that’s what you always called them wasn’t it?” Maia smiled, talking to the air. She laughed at the memory; Jim could never understand how tourists believed that this was visiting another country, taking a boat from place to place, disembarking to hit up the souvenir stalls in order to buy a fridge magnet so that they could tell the people at home that they had seen Naples or been to Sorrento.
“Do you think I’m likely to get visitors like that here?” she asked the sky, only to be greeted by silence. She took a sip of her wine and paused for a moment to close her eyes and relish the fragrant bouquet that tickled her tongue. “No,” she whispered. “It’s not likely I will get cruise-goers, not if they want to stay overnight. But I wonder who will visit me."
