Mermaid of Sicily: Sneak Peek!

I am only 10,000 words from finishing Book Two in the Mermaid of Venice series! It is entirely possible that I will wrap up Mermaid of Sicily by the end of the week. Would that be a lot of words to write per day? Yes. Am I motivated AF to do it? Also yes.

In case you missed the cover reveal, here it is in all its gorgeousness. The illustration is by the incredibly talented Jason Brooks. He’s worked with Chanel, Dior, Vogue… and I’m so lucky to have him for all six covers! That is all thanks to my frequent creative collaborator, Matthew Axe, who graciously offered to art direct the covers and brought Jason onto the project.

Keep scrolling down for your exclusive sneak peek at Mermaid of Sicily, which is now available for pre-order on Amazon! Because you’re part of my community, dear reader, you’re getting a glimpse into the dark adventures of Gia Acquaviva wayyyy in advance of launch.

Without further ado, I present to you the exclusive excerpt from Mermaid of Sicily.

Chapter 9

December 22nd

Southwest of Mount Etna laid a thick strip of farmland that ran down the spine of two smaller hills and rolled across the valley, all the way to the Mediterranean. This megaplot and every speck of volcanic dirt on it belonged to Signor Quintilio Mosca––or Q, as he was known to the locals. Q had spent the last thirty-five of his fifty-eight years dominating Monopoly until all 130 hectares were his. To put that in perspective, his lemon grove, with its rich and verdant landscape, occupied roughly one-half of a square mile, a rather large slice of Sicilian paradise.

“No,” Q crooned into a walkie-talkie. “ I want it slightly left of where it is now.” Across the valley, on the twin mountain of his estate, Q directed a construction crew. From a large crane dangled a sheet of plexiglass the size of a city block. 

“Left!” the architect shouted, after muting the radio on his end. The crane operator strained to hear him. “For Christ’s sake,” the architect insisted, “I said left! No! The other left.” He clicked the button on the walkie-talkie and spoke to his client. “There sir?” 

“That is perfect. The moon will reflect off the water just as I imagined. I love it.”

“Very good, sir. We will carry on then.”

“Excellent.”

In his outdoor kitchen, Q juiced one of his lemons, mixing it with some club soda from the fridge. As he brought the Baccarat tumbler to his face, a tiny bubble burst and splashed onto his aviators. He eased into a chaise lounge covered in orange cashmere and took in the view. His aquarium would technically be Europe’s largest, once complete. He smiled to himself, musing over the thought of all of his dreams coming true.

He picked up his cell phone and dialed La Nonna. The line had barely trilled when she answered. “Signor Mosca,” she said, “how is the sun in the South today?”

“What time is she arriving?”

La Nonna did not respond immediately. She grimaced, but then plastered on a smile, as if her client could see her, and she tried to inject as much sparkle into her voice as she could muster. “Signor, I am afraid Gia has declined your offer.”

“Donatella, my darling,” his words were smooth, but La Nonna braced herself for what came next, “when I request something, do I somehow convey to you that my desires are optional?”

“No, certainly not.”

“Hmm.”

“I thought… perhaps we would give her the chance to––”

“Where is Gia now? Shall I send my jet?”

“Signor, do not worry, I will find her,” La Nonna tried to maintain her calm.

“Find her? Is she not with you?”

“Bene, allora…” She tried to gather her thoughts.

“Donnatella, I want her here by Christmas Eve. Am I being plain enough?”

“I understand you, yes. You shall have her by the holiday.”

“Good. I would hate for you to disappear before Christmas. All those poor grandchildren...” And with that, he ended the call. 

***

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