For readers of Susan Wiggs, Viola Shipman, and Sarah Addison Allen comes a deeply moving novel of a journey of the heart and finding love amid the sweeping majesty of Italy.An explosive yearning that can’t be denied
Disturbing visions from an ancient past
A mysterious stranger that somehow feels familiar
On the night of her fiftieth birthday, the comfortable ride of Toscana’s life takes an alarming plunge. Haunted by seductive visions, she tries to push aside the desire and focus on the husband who adores her. Then she falls for Flynn, a younger man with an eye for adventure and a heart full of romance, who leaves her doubting everything she’s believed about love and passion.
In Atlanta, Rome, and the lush scenery of Tuscany, Toscana searches for answers to the mysteries of her life while she faces her biggest question. If she listens to her feelings will she lose everything she holds dear, or does her heart hold the key to love and joy?
Italy and Food
[Bella Toscana] will keep readers engaged . . . the author provides a refreshing take on romance.
An irresistible novel that explores the hearts of the characters, the powerful emotions, the ache for love, the passion, and the anxiety.
The history, the love story, the Italian theme, the food was so well described you could almost taste it. An amazing romantic love story that keeps you enthralled to the end.
The picturesque descriptive nature of the literature takes you away to Tuscany and Rome. The author portrays an emotional and unexpected story that has the reader intrigued up until the end.
A heartfelt story that will have you wrapped up in the beauty of love and life itself, the Italian countryside, its language of love, the food of the gods, and its rich, historical moments of the past.
I loved him before I knew him.
Some people talk of synchronicity. The rhythm of life. I know of rhythm, in the lyricism of words, in music, in the ebb and flow of the ocean, in the monthly cycles of plants and trees. A beautiful orchestration exists in the simplest of nature. But my world operates on logic, practicality, reason. I do not believe in a grand plan. I do not believe in God.
And then he came.
Before him, I had a well-ordered life. Habit and routine carried me through the day, warmth and comfort eased me through the night. There were disappointments. Longings. Not all was perfect. But such is life. If great passion had not gathered me in its arms, so be it. Peace is preferable to something wild that soars then fizzles and leaves you with an aching heart. I had a different kind of love—security, respect, admiration, friendship.
I was fine. Just fine.
He showed me my lies. It was a gradual learning. A slow and insidious creep of warmth that grew and teased and eventually began to burn. The thought of him burrowed deep inside me until I could think of nothing but him.
We were soul mates.
Soul mates. I scoffed at that. But we were linked inextricably, inevitably by some deeper force, some older reckoning that began many years ago.
To this day I don’t think he knew what would happen. How do you know what fate has in store for you? They say man has free will to act, to choose, to create whatever he desires. But what of other people’s actions, choices, desires? What if those choices conflict with your own? We tried to resist the seemingly magnetic pull. We did our best to act rationally, to behave with honor and dignity. To be selfless. But love is not selfless.
Love is selfish. Love craves attention. Love needs to be heard, to be felt. Love is a natural disaster.
You may think this is nothing new. We all know stories of love. But this story is slightly different. This story spans over two thousand years. This story began in ancient Rome.
So I beg you, for as long as it takes to read this story, to put aside your beliefs. Something took hold of me, pulled me along. Was it fate? Destiny? Divine intervention?
Look to your own heart for the answers.