Under The Tuscan Sun Novel Novels & Stories

After a quick, steamy shower with Stefano that left more teasing than satisfaction, he led her to breakfast. Susan—bless her soul—had prepared a feast that belonged in a Tuscan travel magazine. There were golden, fluffy ricotta pancakes dusted with powdered sugar, a sun-dried tomato and goat cheese frittata, thin slices of prosciutto curled like rose petals beside thick-cut mozzarella, a rainbow of fruits drizzled with honey, and warm cornetti oozing silky cream at the corners. Serena's stomach flipped. Part hunger, part pure nerves. With Stefano sitting at the head of the table, Serena settled at his right, her eyes feasting on the meal already, while he just smiled with delight and appreci

(A little solitude, please. Marcello nodded respectfully and stepped back. Roslyn slipped into her sleek black Alfa Romeo and drove through the winding Tuscan roads, the morning sunlight casting a golden glow over the landscape. As she arrived at Caffè della Vita, the barista, Alessandro, greeted her warmly. "Buongiorno, bella Roslyn! Il solito?" (The usual? Roslyn smiled. "Sì, per favore. Un cappuccino e un cornetto, grazie." (Yes, please. A cappuccino and a croissant).

Oakland was not so far from here but to get across to it, I needed to go through Tombsdale. The scent of the ever-dark and eerie town sent a shiver up my spine and Elijah jerked forward immediately after the truck came to a halt. The driver alighted and opened the back for us to come down. “Come on,” I held around my son’s shoulders, holding him up so he didn’t fall. His eyes were obviously still blurry as he’d just woken up and the sun was merciless in its shining from above the horizon. I couldn’t remember the last time I saw a morning as bright as this. Tuscany could be hot but we never really saw the sun because of the thousand mountains that surrounded us. So it could be shining with al

The warm Tuscan sun streamed through the tall arched windows, casting a golden glow over everything it touched. Elijah came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, his lips brushing against my neck. “It’s perfect, isn’t it?” he whispered into my ear, his breath sending shivers down my spine. “Perfect doesn’t even begin to cover it,” I said, turning in his arms to face him. His eyes sparkled with the same excitement I felt bubbling inside me. “I can’t believe we’re actually here in Tuscany.” He smiled, that slow, heart-stopping smile that had always undone me. “Believe it,” he said softly. “Just like you have to believe that we are now actually married.”

The morning after the "Blackout" was lifted felt like waking up from a fever dream. The heavy, mechanical thud of the security shutters opening for the first time in a week was the most beautiful sound I’d heard since Amalfi. Dominic didn't just crack them open; he threw them wide, letting the unfiltered, golden Tuscan sun pour into the drawing room until it chased every shadow out of the corners.

Eve The sun died somewhere over the Atlantic. I watched it happen from the window of the Gulfstream. One minute, there was the blinding, golden promise of Tuscany, the memory of heat on my skin and wine on my tongue. The next, we were descending into a wall of slate-grey cloud that swallowed the world whole. New York doesn't welcome us back. It tolerates us. Rain slashes against the porthole windows, distorting the skyline into a smear of charcoal and steel. The cabin is silent. It’s been that way for most of the seven hour trip.

Hardin heads back to the table where Tessa is waiting reading a novel, before their trip to the restaurant Tessa took the time to buy the book 'It Ends with Us' at a bookstore near the restaurant in Los Angeles. "Did you get that far honey, did you read it?" said Hardin as he pulled the novel out of his wife's face. "Hmm. Is everything okay? Why is it taking so long," Tessa replies folding the edges of the pages in her novel, and placing it on the empty side of the table. Tessa's eyes scan Hardin's face. "Just a little problem with the company but it's over," Hardin says, caressing Tessa's face. The two of them enjoy a quiet dinner, the few minutes spent only hearing the sound of spoons and

It was one of my favorite things in the world now—he didn’t laugh often, but when he did, it was real. “Fine,” he said. “But you owe me for this.” “I’m marrying you. I think that covers it.” He pulled me toward the bed, his hands trailing heat down my back. “Then let me start cashing in on that debt.” We fell together, laughing, kissing, wrapped in a bubble of joy that, for once, didn’t feel like it would pop. One month later – Tuscany The sun dipped low behind the hills, casting the vineyard in a warm, honeyed glow. Lanterns swayed gently in the breeze, strings of fairy lights twinkled above the tables, and soft Italian music floated through the air.

She came with a sharp cry that echoed across the hills, walls fluttering and squeezing me in hot, rhythmic waves until I followed, thrusting deep and spilling inside her in long, pulsing ropes, our mingled release dripping down her thighs as we shuddered together under the endless Tuscan sky. Days blurred into languid exploration—lazy mornings fucking slow and sleepy in the villa’s huge bed, afternoons sketching beneath ancient olive trees, her capturing the slope of my hand disappearing between her legs while I traced the arches of ruined temples. Every touch, every glance reignited us; we made love on sun-warmed stone, in the villa’s outdoor shower with water cascading over her breasts, ag

Meanwhile, a private Gulfstream G650 landed at Florence's Peretola Airport. The Tuscan sun was blinding, a passionate glare that felt a world away from the New York penthouse I'd had painted black. Though an ocean away, I could vividly picture the scene unfolding on that Manhattan rooftop. I pictured Vincenzo standing in that dead, oppressive darkness, clutching the thin medical report. His knuckles would be white, his body trembling beneath his expensive, bespoke suit.