My Super Sweet Sixteenth Century by Rachel Harris
Blurb: On the precipice of her
sixteenth birthday, the last thing lone wolf Cat Crawford wants is an
extravagant gala thrown by her bubbly stepmother and well-meaning father. So
even though Cat knows the family’s trip to Florence, Italy, is a peace
offering, she embraces the magical city and all it offers. But when her
curiosity leads her to an unusual gypsy tent, she exits . . . right into
Renaissance Firenze.
Thrust into the sixteenth century armed with only a backpack full of contraband future items, Cat joins up with her ancestors, the sweet Alessandra and protective Cipriano, and soon falls for the gorgeous aspiring artist Lorenzo. But when the much-older Niccolo starts sniffing around, Cat realizes that an unwanted birthday party is nothing compared to an unwanted suitor full of creeptastic amore.
Can she find her way back to modern times before her Italian adventure turns into an Italian forever?
Thrust into the sixteenth century armed with only a backpack full of contraband future items, Cat joins up with her ancestors, the sweet Alessandra and protective Cipriano, and soon falls for the gorgeous aspiring artist Lorenzo. But when the much-older Niccolo starts sniffing around, Cat realizes that an unwanted birthday party is nothing compared to an unwanted suitor full of creeptastic amore.
Can she find her way back to modern times before her Italian adventure turns into an Italian forever?
Never-Before-Seen
Excerpt from
MY SUPER SWEET SIXTEENTH CENTURY:
MY SUPER SWEET SIXTEENTH CENTURY:
“I thought I’d teach you a dance from
where I come from,” I tell him. “One that’s much easier than that multi-step
mess inside.”
I
place my left hand on Lorenzo’s shoulder and slip my right one into his. I
pause to listen to the music floating over the tinkling voices and bubbling
fountain, and begin counting the three-beat tempo. “One, two, three. One, two,
three.”
I
stand still, only my head moving, slowly nodding with my words so he can hear
the rhythm.
When
his head begins subtly bobbing with mine, I show him how to add his feet. He
takes a tentative step forward with his left while I step back with my right,
then we side step, close, and repeat the steps with our other feet, all while I
lightly whisper the beat count.
The
breeze picks up, blowing my skirt and skimming my veil across the back of my
neck. Chills run down my spine, but the warmth coursing through my veins from
being in his arms provides a delicious contradiction.
Lorenzo
continues nervously darting his eyes to our feet, but he is dancing. As
he relaxes into the movement, his shoulders rising and falling with the steps,
the confidence he always seems to exude creeps back on his face, and he
tightens the hold around me. Our faces are kissably close, our lips a hairs
breadth away from touching. I stare into the chocolate depths of his eyes and
the rest of the ball fades away. The only music guiding our steps is my light
whisper and the erratic rhythm of our breathing. Time slows. Lorenzo grins.
“I
think you got it,” I say breathlessly, running my hand along the soft fabric of
his shoulder, feeling the rock-hard muscles underneath.
My
body curls inward, pressing against his. The proper form for the waltz is a
straight spine and shoulders back, but if there was ever a time to break the
rules, this is it.
About the Author
As a teen, I threw raging parties that shook my parents’ walls and created embarrassing fodder for future YA novels.
As a teen, I threw raging parties that shook my parents’ walls and created embarrassing fodder for future YA novels.
As
an adult, I read and write obsessively, rehash said embarrassing fodder, and
dream up characters who become my imaginary friends.
When
I'm not typing furiously or flipping pages in an enthralling romance, you can
find me homeschooling my two beautiful princesses, hanging out with my amazing
husband, or taking a hot bubble bath…next to a pile of chocolate.
MY
SUPER SWEET SIXTEENTH CENTURY is my first novel. I did have my own fantabulous
Sweet Sixteen in high school. Sadly, it wasn’t televised.
Love the excerpt
ReplyDelete