Best Italian Novel Novels & Stories

Eden thought for a while and said, “Well, I’ve never had authentic Italian pizza, maybe we should try that.” They found a place called Pizzeria Gino Sorbillo, one of the best pizza places in Milan. Though the line was long, Bennett managed to get Eden and himself through all the people without any wait. Eden felt that it was wrong to cut past the line, but she didn’t care because she wanted to eat that pizza.

Her name was Annalisa, short for Anna, which she preferred being called, yet she liked it—she liked when he called her Peach. Anna took her lips in, sighing inaudibly as her eyes fell on the books that sat idle on the table. Last night, he had brought the books that she had been trying to reach for that day at the library: Learning Italian for Beginners. Most times, it was his nice acts that made her want to go mad, like that day he took her to the hospital… No! She shouldn’t be thinking about this. She shouldn’t be thinking about him, even if he had burned the necklace Domenico had gotten for her, only to replace it with an exact replica.

“Girls, here are the rules we need to follow.” “Best country?” “America- my home.” Ivy jumped. “No, Italy. Next question, best designer?” Olivia said. “Ralph Lauren,” I said in a lower voice. “For us, it’s a yes. But where we are going, we have to say, Donatella Francesca.” She updates our intel. “Best dish?” I googled it. She said, whatever Mario would love to hear from us. “Remember to appreciate his work as the best in the town.”

Mancini, smiled softly and listened. They all looked up when I walked in. “Good evening,” I said politely, forcing a small smile. “Good evening, cara,” Mrs. Mancini said warmly, patting the seat next to her. I sat down gracefully, trying not to make it obvious that I was slightly nervous. Dinner was a beautiful spread of Italian delicacies, Risotto alla Milanese, creamy and golden with saffron, paired with roasted lamb and grilled vegetables. The aroma alone could make anyone forget their problems.

She pulls her pyjamas on, and once they’re both dressed Rosie takes down the glamour to put it back on the overhang. Caelius had taken the first watch, and was sitting by the fire reading a tattered paperback book. She makes her way over; he smiles up at her and puts a bookmark in and closes his book. “Interesting book?” He smiles, “Yes, actually. It’s a classic, ‘Il nome della rosa’; The Name of the Rose. It’s a murder mystery.” Celine nods, “I’ve had this a while.” She chuckles, and he smiles, “It’s not had an easy life, this book.” She nods,

“It’s Italy. Always say Italy.” She didn’t give us time to argue. “Next—best designer?” “Ralph Lauren,” I mumbled. “For us? Yes. But for where we’re going, it’s Donatella Francesca,” Olivia said with a smirk. “Repeat after me: Donatella Francesca.” “Donatella Francesca,” we echoed in confused unison. “Best dish?” Ivy asked, hoping to redeem herself. “Forget it,” Olivia waved her hand. “No food talk unless it’s truffle pasta or tiramisu.”

"You, are gorgeous." "You know, you are not all that bad Luciano Martini." "I know. My best quality." ♧♧♧ ♧♧♧

I poured myself a glass of water and drank it in one go. Nikolai “The Devil” Costello, El Padrino. I shook my head, nope, not going to believe it unless I talk to him myself. I made my way out of the kitchen and went straight to the library. Since I had nothing to do, I settled on reading a book. I surveyed the huge library and finally found a book that seemed interesting enough to read. “Mafia and Mafiosi by Henner Hess” With a book in my hand, I walked back to Nikolai's seat to read but halted in my steps as I saw him already sitting on it.

“Tell me everything. How was Italy?” They launched into it instantly. Nicole flipped her hair, eyes shining. “First of all, Milan was everything. The fashion scene? Insane. I networked with a Versace rep. Versace, Aria! I could be working with them next summer.” Jenna clasped her hands together. “Venice was my favorite. I swear, it’s the most beautiful place in the world. The canals, the gondolas, the atmosphere—magical.” Then she sighed. “Except for that one night I nearly fell into the water because someone—” she shot Liv a look, “—thought it was a good idea to challenge me to a wine-drinking contest.”

Anne asks, suddenly quite concerned that she’s made an error. Oh, that’s right. This book is one that Nonna Francesca picked up for her. Alessandro nods. “I do speak Italian.” “Do you read Italian?” He laughs. “I read it too.” XXX