Showing posts with label Kimberly Sullivan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kimberly Sullivan. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 6, 2023

Blitz & Giveaway for Rome’s Last Noble Palace by Kimberly Sullivan

Rome’s Last Noble Palace
Kimberly Sullivan
Publication date: December 6th, 2023
Genres: Adult, Historical, Paranormal, Women’s Fiction

Two women. Two different centuries. One attic room

American Isabelle Field has been shipped off to Rome to live with her aunt, Princess Elizabeth Brancaccio. Isabelle’s aunt and mother share a common goal – replicating Elizabeth’s success by marrying Isabelle off to a European nobleman.

But Rome in 1896 is on the cusp of a new century and Isabelle longs for more than a titled husband. She secretly designs costumes for Rome’s burgeoning theatre environment and dreams of opening a fashion atelier. Can she gather the courage to forge a life for herself, even if it means going against expectations?

Over a century later, doctoral candidate Sophie Nouri can’t believe her good fortune when she is selected to intern in Rome’s Near Eastern Art Museum. Even better, the position includes an attic apartment in the spectacular museum property, the Palazzo Brancaccio.

Overseeing a major exhibition is stressful, but tension alone can’t explain the disturbing nighttime presence in the deserted hallways of the grand palace – especially one no one else can sense. Almost as if a spectral being is trying to communicate with Sophie directly. Or warn her.

Goodreads / Amazon


EXCERPT:

Rome, 2018

SUNLIGHT STREAMED THROUGH the high windows, coaxing Sophie from her dreams. She cracked one eye open, groaning at the early hour on the travel alarm clock. How had she forgotten to close the shutters last night? Blame it on the jet lag of someone no longer used to international travel.

She turned her head to observe Matt’s sleeping form. His chest rose and fell in a calm, steady rhythm. A little sunlight seeping through the windows would never wake him this early. He was made of stronger stuff.

She turned back to the window, struck again by golden Roman light she’d forgotten after so many years away. Not at all like the diffused light back home. Sparrows swooped in graceful arcs across the cloudless, cerulean sky. As the sleepiness seeped from her eyes and her gaze sharpened, the bright, white blocks began to take shape. Her heart beat faster. The familiar but long-dormant sense of fear coursed through her body. She hadn’t been expecting to feel it so deeply after all these years away.

Closing her eyes, she took a calming breath and formed images of waking in her bedroom at home. The branch of the oak tree scraping the bedroom window, the twittering of the birds, the bold squirrel that peeked in her window most mornings, the creaks and groans of the old, converted farmhouse. Gradually, her heartbeat slowed, the fear seeped away. She inhaled deeply, counted to ten and exhaled.

She could do this.

She fixed a determined gaze on the grand palazzo, glittering white in the strong Mediterranean sunlight. Some of its brown shutters were open, others closed like sleepy eyes reluctant to yield to the morning light. She remembered all those useless afternoon battles against the Roman sunlight filtering heat and blinding rays into those great rooms.

At the palazzo’s upper edge, lithe young angels kneeled in rows, their flowing curls cascading down to their shoulders. Their pointed wings punctuated the cornice above, curving vines sprouted from their bodies in a riot of intricate swirls. The young angels were separated from one another by lush greenery, unrolling in a seemingly endless, elegant row. She’d always known the carving was there, but she’d never observed the details from this angle. Everything had been different from within. Despite the warmth of the early morning sun, she shivered.

Ignoring a mounting sense of dread, Sophie pushed herself up gently, careful not to rouse Matt. Sliding bare feet into beckoning slippers, she padded softly to the door, her back decisively turned to the noble home.


Author Bio:

Kimberly grew up in the suburbs of Boston and in Saratoga Springs, New York, although she now calls the Harlem neighborhood of New York City home when she’s back in the US. She studied political science and history at Cornell University and earned her MBA, with a concentration in strategy and marketing, from Bocconi University in Milan.

Afflicted with a severe case of Wanderlust, she worked in journalism and government in the US, Czech Republic and Austria, before settling down in Rome, where she works in international development, and writes fiction any chance she gets.

She is a member of the Women’s Fiction Writers Association (WFWA) and The Historical Novel Society and has published several short stories and three novels: Three Coins, Dark Blue Waves and In The Shadow of The Apennines.

After years spent living in Italy with her Italian husband and sons, she’s fluent in speaking with her hands, and she loves setting her stories in her beautiful, adoptive country.

Website / Goodreads / Twitter / Bookbub / Instagram


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Sunday, May 28, 2023

Blitz & Giveaway for Drink Wine and Be Beautiful by Kimberly Sullivan

Drink Wine and Be Beautiful
Kimberly Sullivan
Publication date: May 26th, 2023
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Women’s Fiction

Italian Tales of love, betrayal, longing, desire – and hope

Italy serves as the backdrop for stories of Italian women and expatriate women living in Italy.

A freak snowstorm in Rome changes the travel plans of two women, touching their lives in ways they could never have imagined. An ambitious Italian professional working in Brussels rails inwardly at her privileged boss, until fate presents her with a rare opportunity. A long desired trip to Bali, Indonesia serves as a needed chance for introspection. A cautious housewife in Rome thinks back to a fateful missed connection in Florence. A first-time mother feels debilitating guilt for not bonding with her newborn, until an elderly neighbor provides her with a new perspective.

The twenty-one stories in this collection follow women’s lives as they confront betrayal and love, alienation and community, despair and-ultimately-hope.

Goodreads / Amazon / Kobo


EXCERPT:

Snake Charmers and Donkey Carts

Marrakech

THE HAWKERS’ CRIES FILLED THE SQUARE, the guttural sounds of Arabic throbbing in Manuela’s ears. All around her, men yelled out in that strange language. Men were everywhere. They brushed past her in the marketplace crowds, and she shrank back. Unfamiliar smells filled the air.

She clung to Adriano’s hand as they walked through the Jemaa el-Fna square, willing herself not to cry. A cobra reared up his ugly head, its black tongue flickering, only a few feet from where she stood. She bit her tongue to keep herself from screaming. The snake swayed from side to side as the snake charmer played music on his pipe. A fat man in dirty robes approached her with another snake, trying to wrap it around her neck.

She stumbled backward, afraid she might faint, but thankfully Adriano was pulling her away, toward the dark, labyrinthine streets of the souk. Here she would do battle with the scooters and the donkey carts, but at least there were no snake charmers poised to place a slimy, wriggling serpent around her neck in exchange for coins.

Manuela breathed in deeply. It was all too much. The blood coursed through her veins at double-speed. Her heart pounded in fear and revulsion. She leaned in closer to Adriano, his comforting solidity managing to calm her and provide her with the courage she lacked in this odd city.

Min fadlak,” said a robed man, indicating his wares.

Manuela instinctively shrunk from his attentions, but Adriano stepped closer, examining the delicate lamps shining in the dark marketplace. Their intricate patterns cast colorful, elaborate illuminations through inky night sky. Even she could recognize its mystic beauty.

Kam else’er?” said Adriano.

The two men began haggling over the price, and Manuela stood silently, a spectator to the show. Life was a spectacle here, but one she took no pleasure in observing.

Three days into her holiday in Marrakech, Manuela felt only anxious and confused. The streets were too narrow. She had to remain vigilant not to step in the droppings left behind after the donkey carts passed. There were too many people pressed too closely together. People stood so close when they spoke to you. Adriano told her it was rude to step back, but she couldn’t help herself. The yells in Arabic sounded harsh and threatening to her ears. The sights and sounds, the colors and smells were too exotic.

Manuela could only relax when they returned to their riad in the evening, though even there she could not completely escape the lingering sense of foreignness. The wooden keyhole doors were too small, and she kept bumping her head on their frame. The sweet smell of spices filled the apartment with a cloying scent she was unable to banish, even after opening the windows for long periods of time in the hopes of airing the room.

She would step into the shower and rinse the city’s dirt and grime from her body, before enveloping her skin in a soft robe. When Adriano pushed her gently down to the bed, a sense of familiarity would calm her, and she could temporarily forget all about the stresses of this chaotic city.

Yet each morning she felt drained and exhausted once again, unable to face another day, desperate to return home, where things were safe and familiar. She longed to hear Italian spoken in the squares, to enter a restaurant and know that familiar foods were on the menu, to be capable of conversing with the shopkeepers.

To belong.

But what could she do? Adriano seemed to thrive in this new environment. He craved exotic places. Where had he learned to count in Arabic? He and the hawker were aggressively shouting figures back and forth, and she saw the spark of excitement in Adriano’s eyes. For her, this city was hell on earth. For him, an exotic tale out of Arabian Nights.

She breathed in deeply once again, attempting to quell the panic attack she could feel working its way through her body. The hawkers came closer with their oils and their soaps and their leather slippers. She closed her eyes and suppressed the desire to scream.

Back home, her days were spent cutting through the red tape of property purchases in Tivoli and placating demanding clients. Her hard-earned vacation was supposed to relax her, not cause greater stress.

She’d begged Adriano to go back to the Sardinian resort they’d visited this past spring, with its well-designed bungalows, soft, white sand beaches, perfectly ordered rows of umbrellas and beach chairs, and crystalline waters beckoning just before them.

Just smelling the salt air caused a sense of well-being to wash over her body. She’d thought Adriano would book the tickets for the resort, as they discussed. It was charged to her account, after all. Instead, he stopped off at her house with two tickets to Marrakech.

“You’re going to love it,” he said, kissing her on the neck. “It will be an adventure. I swear, you’ll never want to come back to Italy.”

She sighed. Not wanting to return to Italy wasn’t the problem. It was Morocco where she never wished to set foot again.


Author Bio:

Kimberly grew up in the suburbs of Boston and in Saratoga Springs, New York, although she now calls the Harlem neighborhood of New York City home when she’s back in the US. She studied political science and history at Cornell University and earned her MBA, with a concentration in strategy and marketing, from Bocconi University in Milan.

Afflicted with a severe case of Wanderlust, she worked in journalism and government in the US, Czech Republic and Austria, before settling down in Rome, where she works in international development, and writes fiction any chance she gets.

She is a member of the Women’s Fiction Writers Association (WFWA) and The Historical Novel Society and has published several short stories and three novels: Three Coins, Dark Blue Waves and In The Shadow of The Apennines.

After years spent living in Italy with her Italian husband and sons, she’s fluent in speaking with her hands, and she loves setting her stories in her beautiful, adoptive country.

Website / Goodreads / Instagram / Twitter / Bookbub


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Friday, October 21, 2022

Book Blitz for In The Shadow of The Apennines by Kimberly Sullivan

In The Shadow of The Apennines
Kimberly Sullivan
Publication date: October 21st, 2022
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Historical, Women’s Fiction

An American divorcée. An Italian shepherdess.
Separated by a century, united by common dreams.

The sleepy little Abruzzo mountain town of Marsicano seems about as far as Samantha can flee from her failed marriage and disastrous university career. Eager for a fresh start, Samantha begins to set down roots in her Italian mountain hideaway.

At first, the mountain retreat appears idyllic, but an outsider’s clumsy attempts at breaking into the closed mountain community are quickly thwarted when the residents discover Samantha’s snarky blog ridiculing the town and its inhabitants.

Increasingly isolated in her mountain cottage, Samantha discovers the letters and diaries of Elena, a past tenant and a survivor of the 1915 Pescina earthquake. Despite the century that separates the two women, Samantha feels increasingly drawn into Elena’s life, and discovers startling parallels with her own.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Kobo

SNEAK PEEK:

Pescina, Italy

25 April 1914

Where do I begin? Mamma blames it all on Father Ignazio. She says if only he had left me to the chores I was employed to carry out at San Berardo and the parish house, my cooking and cleaning would be much improved, and I would not be constantly scribbling on any piece of paper I could find and begging for books to read.

She worries I will never find a husband.

“What man wants a wife who only cares about book learning, when she should be tending the goats, washing the clothes, and baking the bread?” Mamma warns me every day.

Mamma says no peasant girl should study beyond the first years of elementary school. Writing the letters to sign your name and computations for simple transactions are more than enough for a female in our region. She calls it getting above oneself. To mamma, this is the worst sin.

Of course, we weren’t always peasants. We used to have some money, back before papà lost his property. It was never much, but our lives were so much easier back then. My brothers and I even had a tutor to teach us to read and write and to know our history and literature. Those hours were the highlight of my day. My tutor was very pleased with me.

It was hard on us when we lost everything. Only mamma said maybe it was for the best – at least for me. Now she could insist I concentrate on what was most important for girls.

I suppose I am lucky it was Father Ignazio who insisted I keep up with my learning. Mamma may often speak her mind, but she will never argue with our parish priest. She respects him too much, and she worries about punishment in the afterlife if she talks back to a priest. So mamma, who is quick to speak her mind on every occasion, bites her tongue until she draws blood whenever Father Ignazio praises my learning to her.

Papà is proud of my reading and writing. He is the one who bought me this diary and the pen and ink for my birthday. Yes, I can hardly believe it, but today I am sixteen.

Mamma is probably right that a girl who reads and writes would scare off the local boys. Boys in Pescina mostly work the land like their fathers or tend the sheep. But even if I am now sixteen and townspeople consider me a woman, I still feel like a little girl.

All my friends talk about getting married, about preparing their wedding chest and living with their husbands. They make eyes at the boys returning with the sheep, the same boys we scrambled over the mountaintops with just a few years ago.

My friend Concetta even has a sweetheart. She always goes to the fountain to gather the water at the same hour so that she can meet Domenico on his way back to town after a day working in the fields.

Sometimes I see them together walking on the path back to town, the ruins of the castle watchtower above them in the distance. They look so happy in one another’s company, laughing and talking, finding excuses for their hands to brush together.

When Concetta and I are together, sewing or baking bread, she always seems to have a far-away look in her eyes, and I sense that she does not hear what I say, that her thoughts are only for Domenico now. Mamma says one day I’lll feel that way about a boy, too, but I wonder if I ever will.


Author Bio:

Kimberly grew up in the suburbs of Boston and in Saratoga Springs, New York, although she now calls the Harlem neighborhood of New York City home when she’s back in the US. She studied political science and history at Cornell University and earned her MBA, with a concentration in strategy and marketing, from Bocconi University in Milan.

Afflicted with a severe case of Wanderlust, she worked in journalism and government in the US, Czech Republic and Austria, before settling down in Rome, where she works in international development, and writes fiction any chance she gets.

She is a member of the Women’s Fiction Writers Association (WFWA) and The Historical Novel Society and has published several short stories and three novels: Three Coins, Dark Blue Waves and In The Shadow of The Apennines.

After years spent living in Italy with her Italian husband and sons, she’s fluent in speaking with her hands, and she loves setting her stories in her beautiful, adoptive country.

Website / Goodreads / Instagram / Bookbub / Twitter


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Friday, October 22, 2021

Blitz & Giveaway for Three Coins by Kimberly Sullivan

Three Coins
Kimberly Sullivan
Publication date: October 22nd, 2021
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Women’s Fiction

One Eternal City. Three women. Three wishes. Three coins.

Emma, an American expat living in Rome for twenty years, can’t count on her ex-husband to help out with the kids when things get tough. Dario Rinaldi, famed plastic surgeon to the stars, is too busy gallivanting around Europe with young women to take an interest in his family.

Beautiful Tiffany, born and bred in Iowa, is desperate to get a spot as a dancer on an Italian television show. But is she willing to do whatever it takes to make her dreams of TV stardom come true?

Annarita, from an Italian-American family in Yonkers, teaches English to over-privileged Italians and regularly has her heart trampled by boyfriends all wrong for her. As her mother is always quick to point out, nothing has gone right for her since she moved to Italy. And she isn’t getting any younger, either.

Emma, Tiffany and Annarita all meet up by chance at a 1950s movie night while on a restorative holiday at a beach resort off-season. The triumphs and hardships of these three very different women become intertwined as they form an unlikely friendship and work to better their messy lives.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Kobo

EXCERPT:

The corners of Headmistress Green’s lips tilted upwards, but her stern grey eyes remained unconvinced. “I’m pleased to hear that. Too often, divorce can lead to decreased involvement by one of the parents. But in these cases, it’s our experience that two parents working in partnership can turn a situation like this around.”

She stood, signaling the end of the meeting. Emma scrambled to her feet.

“I hope to hand Chiara her diploma on graduation day. Don’t hesitate to call me if you or Doctor Rinaldi have any concerns you wish to discuss.”

Just shake hands with the woman and make it to the door without crying.

She followed Mrs. Green to the door, her Prada heels clicking with each uncertain step. She blinked rapidly, a desperate attempt to stave off the tears. She offered a weak smile to Mrs. Green at the door, and another to the receptionist, before exiting the office and walking out of the building.

The fresh air calmed her. It was a glorious autumn day, unseasonably sunny and warm for mid-October. The tourists were still wandering around the city’s historical center in shorts and tank-tops, wondering at the tropical temperatures compared to Stockholm, or London, or Hamburg. Usually, Emma was pleased to visit this campus, with its lush green yard and rolling hills, always finding it hard to believe this peaceful countryside was still, technically, a part of Rome. But today being on campus afforded her no pleasure.

She hurried down the hill to the entrance gate as fast as her fashionable but impractical heels would carry her. Please don’t let me bump into Chiara or the twins. She kept her head low, as if that could mask her identity should her children cross her path on campus, on their way to lunch or gym class.

“Emma! Why, it’s been ages!” A voice rang out when she’d nearly reached the school gate.

Emma turned on her heel to see a woman she knew had been one of Dario’s patients on more than one occasion. Her nose had been redone, her lips plumped, and cheek implants strained against artificially tight flesh.

“Margherita! What a pleasant surprise.” Emma stepped forward and kissed the woman on each silicone cheek. “It’s been ages. My fault. I need to contact you to see when I can help out with PTO activities. Isn’t the international luncheon coming up?”

Margherita waved her hand, attempting a smile on skin that was no longer elastic. “Oh, that. We all do what we can. I know how hard it’s been for you, what with …” she lowered her voice. “The divorce.”

The horrified expression accompanying her words would have been equally suitable for “your drug conviction” or “the mafia killings you ordered.”

Divorce was surprisingly rare at the Fairmont School, as Emma was quickly learning. “Oh, it’s fine. I forget about it half the time.” Dragon Lady didn’t need to know the truth.

Margherita sighed. “But still, so tragic. I always thought you were such a perfect couple. Although, I must admit,” she chuckled. “I never would have pegged you for a plastic surgeon’s wife. Although that was always part of Dario’s charm. He’s known for creating perfection on his patients, but never demanding it from his own wife.”

A steady throbbing began behind Emma’s right temple. “I’m over it, really. Thank you for your concern.”

“I’m sure you are, my dear. Especially if Dario could … sweeten the pot, shall we say, with his departure. It’s important we hold them to their financial obligations, eh?” She winked. “But still, it’s a shame for Chiara. Lucrezia tells me how upset she is, how she always complains the divorce ruined her life.” She shook her head. “You know how dramatic teenagers can be.” Margherita stood, expectantly, her head tilted.

Emma silently counted to five. “Thanks for your concern. It was tough for Chiara at first, but I think she’s starting to accept it.”

Margherita’s lips formed a dainty little ‘o’. “That’s not what I heard. But I’m always behind on these things. How nice that everything is going swimmingly, and I’ve been misinformed.” There was a hard glint in her eyes. “Let’s be in touch for the international luncheon. Bye, Emma dear.” With quick kisses on the cheek, she turned on her heels and made her way up the slope to the school.

Emma watched the receding figure, her head still spinning. A double whammy of Mrs. Green and Margherita. Surely, things couldn’t get any worse.

Author Bio:

I write the women’s fiction stories I love to read, both contemporary and historic tales of women and the rich lives they lead along their journeys of self-discovery. A lifetime admirer and longtime resident of Italy, I’m often guilty of sneaking the bel paese into my stories.

Website / Goodreads / Twitter / Instagram


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