After losing her fiancé in a horrific disaster, Fern visits Italy to find solace and indulge her love of painting, but her dreadful dreams of fiery death transform into reality when she hears ghostly whispers and catches sight of a piece of burnt wood, which mysteriously appears then disappears.
Luca, a local architect, comes to her aid at Asolo Castle, when her mind is seemingly taken over by Cecilia, a young woman at the court of Queen Caterina Cornaro five hundred years ago.
As episode follows episode and Fern sees the world increasingly through Cecilia’s eyes, Cecilia begins a passionate affair with the artist, Zorzo, and echoes of the past manifest themselves in the present through a series of startling coincidences until past and present collide, throwing both Fern and Cecilia into mortal peril.
Can Luca keep Fern out of danger and help her come to terms with her own past?Genre: FICTION / Historical / Medieval
Since publication on Amazon Kindle on 30th November, 2014, this book has been permanently ranked as a Bestseller in the Historical Fiction (Italian) chart.
Fern pushed open her bedroom door. Something was burning; she was sure of it. In the corridor, morning sunlight filtered through the shutters, but there was no sign of a fire. The passage was clear of smoke. Oh, thank God. She sniffed in the acrid odour. Bleach?
A stir of cold air, and her skin prickled.
Fern jumped. ‘Who’s there?’
Snorts reverberated from behind the closed door. Aunt Susan, Dad’s sister, could snore for Britain just like Dad. Maybe the voice she thought she’d heard was just an echo?
Slippers flip-flapping, Fern padded along the corridor and down the spiral staircase. In the kitchen, a fat tabby cat wound its way around her legs. She bent to stroke the smooth fur, catching the scent of roses from the vase on the table. The open-plan room gave onto a wide veranda fronting the ground floor of Aunt Susan’s house. There was a fireplace between the cabinets, and a sitting area with a sofa, an armchair and a television beyond. It was a homely kitchen, well-used and comfortable. Not like the “shoebox” where she prepared her own meals in London.
Through the picture window, a narrow road hugged vineyards and cornfields. Dawn light illuminated a range of hills in the distance. An ancient fortress-like building sat on the highest crest, and below the fort nestled the town of Asolo. A place for writers, musicians and artists, by all accounts. Fern wiped the sleep from her eyes. Would she find the peace she was seeking here?
‘Lorenza . . .’
The whisper, so plaintive, came from right next to her. ‘Who is it?’
Feeling a tad ridiculous, Fern repeated the question.
Nothing. Must be my imagination.
Unavailable for translation.
Already translated. Translated by Livia Linhares
Livia has been amazing to work with. I've been impressed by her professionalism and attention to detail. She has met the deadline and has expressed her willingness to help with marketing the book.