Deborah Mello Fletcher

Tuscan Heat


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New Orleans, Louisiana. I have been a fan of yours since your first book, Bruised and Battered. Despite my previous intentions to write and tell you how much I’ve enjoyed your writing, I’ve always stopped myself, feeling that you probably would not want to be inundated with more fan mail. But I was so enthralled with your last story, and the character Dr. Hanover, that I could not let the opportunity to tell you what I think pass by. Your artistry is rare and your words are epic. I was captivated from the first sentence to the last. However, I’m curious to know if you intentionally wanted your readers to empathize with the protagonist despite his being so unlikable. Your disdain for this man was obvious, but as I found myself rooting for him I had to question your intent and wondered if the reflection of him as a man mirrored my own projections. Or are they reflections you masterfully and purposely elicited from us? I’d love to discuss him in further detail. I do hope you’ll respond.

      Yours truly,

      Donovan Boudreaux

      Carina’s response had been brilliant, her sister pulling excerpts from two news interviews she’d done and quoting one of her favorite proverbs.

      Mr. Boudreaux,

      Thank you for your kind words. Your support of my work is appreciated, and I found your question interesting. I think what you deemed disdain was anything but. Dr. Hanover was one of my favorite characters to write, and I’m pleased that the dynamics of his personality did not get lost in the details of the mystery. Dr. Hanover’s character was drawn to invoke a whirlwind of emotion from the reader, that connection both thought-provoking and substantive. To quote one of my favorite Scriptures: “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.” Proverbs 27:17. Dr. Hanover served his purpose if you were rooting for him, his advice and wisdom intended to sharpen yours. Thank you for reaching out and please do keep in touch.

      Happy reading,

      Gianna

      And Donovan had kept in touch, continuing to write. His brief paragraphs had expanded to lengthier messages, and Carina had kept up nicely, pulling her responses right from Gianna’s private writings. Gianna was surprised by how her twin had pieced the responses together, some of the replies so spot-on that she would never have believed Carina had anything at all to do with them if she hadn’t known better. It was almost as if her twin had been stowed away in her head, privy to her thoughts and possessing an understanding of her worldview. It was a cosmic connection like no other, and Gianna didn’t know if she could have done the same so successfully.

      She pulled one of his last messages from the folder, the literary connection having evolved into something she couldn’t even begin to define.

      Dearest Gianna,

      I marvel at how you’re able to articulate what I’m feeling, when I can’t even find the words. You are correct. I would be disappointed if I’m not selected for this teaching fellowship. But I’m a man, and my disappointment should not be telling. There are some issues I should not be sensitive about, and because I’m a man that sensitivity should definitely not show. If it does, it would be seen as a sign of weakness. What woman would want a weak man?

      Gianna marveled, too. Her sister’s crafted reply had been award-worthy.

      Donovan, Donovan, Donovan!

      Every woman wants a man who owns his feelings! Sensitivity can never be seen as weakness if it walks hand in hand with honesty. Owning our emotions is empowering. Of course you’ll be disappointed! You worked hard to qualify for the opportunity. You want it! You are deserving of it! So claim it and think of the day you land in Italy, when you can stand beneath the brightest blue sky and watch the sunset that I watch daily. No woman should want a man who would do any less than that!

      And now this stranger, who was connected with Gianna in a way that she found outrageously absurd, was on his way to the Italian coast, expecting that she would be as excited to see him as he was to see her. It was crazy and overwhelming, and despite every ounce of reservation she was feeling, she was intrigued and curious in the same breath.

      Donovan stood with his brother Kendrick, the two men waiting in the flight hangar for the preflight maintenance check on their brother Mason’s private plane to be completed. Membership having its privileges surely applied as Donovan eyed the luxury aircraft, one of a dozen planes that Mason had at his disposal. The opportunity to fly private planes had been a gift, the gesture humbling, and Donovan couldn’t begin to know how he’d ever be able to repay the favor.

      “I promise, baby! I will call you the minute I land,” Kendrick was saying while rolling his eyes. He exchanged a look with his brother as he continued his conversation. “Vanessa! It’s only three days. I’ll be back before you know it. I promise!”

      There was a pause, Vanessa’s raised voice echoing out of the receiver in Kendrick’s hand. The man blew a heavy sigh. “I swear, honey! This is not a covert mission. I am not disappearing underground on any assignment. I ride a desk now, remember?”

      Donovan smiled. Kendrick settling down with his new wife had come with a host of challenges for his younger brother. The couple had met when the FBI agent had been assigned to Vanessa’s protective detail, whisking her away to one of the world’s most romantic honeymoon spots to protect their cover. Despite Kendrick’s assurances that his secret agent days were over, Vanessa remained unconvinced, crippled by anxiety every time he disappeared from town.

      Kendrick shook his head as he disconnected. “She’s going to kill me.”

      Donovan laughed. “You tagging along with me isn’t what she thinks it is, is it?”

      Kendrick shook his head. “I have some work to take care of once we drop you off and send Mason’s plane back his way. I’ll be meeting up with my unit in Florence and going on to Greece. I just didn’t give Vanessa all the details of this little venture. I just told her you were scared and wanted me to check things out for you.”

      “Why would I be scared?”

      His brother shrugged. “Your sisters have her convinced that you’re a little soft. I just rolled with it.”

      Donovan’s eyes widened as he stared his brother down.

      “What?” Kendrick asked, tossing him a look. “Even you know the girls think you’re a little easy. They’re always afraid someone’s going to take advantage of you because you’re so trusting.”

      Donovan shook his head.

      Kendrick chuckled. “Hey, it’s no big deal. It gives me an excuse to go do what I need to do.”

      “Do I even want to ask?” Donovan said.

      “Nope! Because if I tell you I’ll have to shoot you, and we don’t want to ruin your trip.” Kendrick laughed as he changed the subject. “So, are you excited?”

      “I’m nervous. Not scared,” he emphasized, “but nervous.”

      “About teaching? That’s your thing, bro! Why would you be nervous?”

      Donovan met his brother’s curious stare. “I just...well...” he stammered, his eyes skating back and forth as he tried to choose his words carefully. “There’s someone...a woman... She...”

      Kendrick eyed him with a raised brow. “Okay, spill it. What aren’t you telling me?”

      There was a moment of pause before Donovan answered, lost in his thoughts about Gianna as he reflected on what he knew about the woman.

      From her bio, he’d discovered that she held two advanced degrees in science and mathematics. From their communications, he knew that she abhorred traditional intellectual attitudes. So much so that she’d been initially reluctant to communicate with him when she discovered he was a professor.

      From reading her novels, he knew that she was proficient at spinning a good thriller and murder mystery. Gianna had a talent for creating male protagonists who