Let's Do It Again

Is this month ever going to end? It's been January for 84 years and I've had enough of it. I'm not doing any of the restrictions for this month. It's hard enough as it is without inflicting more misery on myself. I'm sticking with sugar - just reducing, although I made about a hundred pieces of salted caramel fudge yesterday and it's delightful! I have one meatless day a week - not doing it the whole month when I have so much bresaola that expires next month and I'm not paying for the gym when I'm saving for the two hundred holidays I'm taking this year. Yay me!

Anyways, given the longest month of time, I thought enough of that has passed for me to not spoil owt but clarify what songs go with which bit of Murano. I haven't done that for my previous books for fear of giving key things away. And I feel like we're at the stage where it's time for a second read and a second read with tunes as I maestro intended. Lol! Me going on like I'm Paris Hilton at a gig! You've known me long enough to understand my musical leanings, my love and adoration of Sir Hans Zimmer, that I'm so obviously an eighties baby judging by said musical leanings and that the strangest songs will make me emotional for no reason. If I told you the number of times I listened to I Know What I Do just staring at a wall crying, you wouldn't believe me. Routemaster to the rescue was born from being on the N44 streaking through London roads after far too many lychee martinis and praying the bus would go faster so I could throw up in peace. I don't travel anywhere without music, so Hans kept the need to projectile over my fellow passengers at bay. Now it's tied up with Bep being... well Bep. I maintain Radiohead should have been given the Spectre song which is why it's included so I can't listen to it without coupling it with sleek, silencer-ed weaponry. And I can't include Smack My Bitch Up unless a bitch is gonna get smacked up. Said bitch does get smacked up. And it just makes me love Mimi more.

So there we are. A glimpse behind the thought process of what goes into my tracks. There's a reason for the weirdness. Always. Gosh, really wish I could apologise to my English teacher. I was always convinced that she looked for meaning behind everything when it could be that the author just wanted something that way. Now look at me - giving parallels.

Nope! I take it back!

Murano on Spotify

An Old Man’s Path

• Progeny – Hans Zimmer

Giuseppe Nardiello

• Hey Mami – Sylvan Esso

Lost Boy/Wendy Darling

• You See All My Light – Jacques Greene
• Change Is Everything – Son Lux

Last Wedding

• The Dream of Gerontius, Op 38/Pt 2 Praise to the Holiest – Edward Elgar

I think I want to see

• It’s Magic – Dinah Washington

Goddamn Sheen

• Too Original – Major Lazer

Sweet Sixteen on Coke

• 212 - Azealia Banks

Come out with me

• Playinwitme – KYLE ft Kehlani

Date Musicals

• Suddenly, Seymour – Rich Moranis, Ellen Greene

Nonna’s Speakeasy

• Sing, Sing, Sing – Benny Goodman
• You Give A Little Love – Paul Williams

Mini Cab?

• Ultralight Beam – Kanye West  

Marseille! Marseille!

• Palm Trees ?Téoذ

I Have Never…

• Shadow & Light – Martin Luke Brown

Defiling The Inner Sanctum

• Surprise Yourself – Jack Garratt

Leisurely

• Waking Up – MJ Cole & Freya Ridings

Fractured Family

• Back To You – Benjamin Gordon

This Is Beppe

• I Am – Rock Mafia ft Wyclef Jean

Neighbours

• Breathe & Stop – Q-Tip  
• Tell Me That You Love Me – James Smith

The Sacrilege

• Oh Baby – LCD Soundsystem

Why Are You Still Here?

• Same Drugs – Chance The Rapper

Happy Easter

• Movement – Hozier

Dear Sg Nardiello

• The Gulag Orkestar – Beirut

Darjeeling Comfort

• Not Dark Yet – Bob Dylan

That’s Not My Name

• Lost Boy – Ruth B.

Tomasina’s Protection

• Lie – Halsey, Quavo

New Start

• Do You Remember Jarryd James ft Raury

Routemaster to the rescue

• Fear Will Find You – Hans Zimmer

34 Letters

• Hell To The Liars – London Grammar
• War Prayer – This Will Destroy You
• If I Go, I’m Goin – Gregory Alan Isakov
• Slide – James Bay  
• Cloudbusting – Kate Bush
• Don’t Forget About Me – Cloves

The Safe House

• On The Nature Of Daylight – Max Richter  

An Italian Kiss

• Decks Dark – Radiohead

Book Me A Table At Claridges

• Elephant – Tame Impala
• On Thin Ice – Hans Zimmer

It’s A Trap

• Set This House On Fire – Nick Vallee

On the Common

• I Know All What I Do – Jack Garratt

Casual As Fuck

• Overture – Michael Kamen
• Romantic Flight – John Powell

Solemn Stag Do

• Hard Place – H.E.R

Venezia To The Bone

• All For Us – Labrinth

I Know Who You Are

• Selah – Emeli Sandé

She’s Dead

• Strange Weather – Anna Calvi ft David Byrne

Chances in Zurich

• Alone In the Dark – Will Cookson

Brace Yourself, Wendy Darling

• Carry You – Novo Amor

The Night Before

• when the party’s over - Billie Eilish

The Weirdest Day

• Outro – M83
• God Only Knows – John Legend and Cynthia Erivo
• The Vow – RuthAnne  
• Etta James – Til There Was You

An Assassin’s Mistake

• Under Attack – Kin Palo ft Amy Stroup

My Lovely, Brand-New Wife Amelia

• Smack My Bitch Up – The Prodigy

He’s Got Two

• Mean Demeanour – Run The Jewels

Waiting

• Ruelle – Take It All

Nice Work

• Mount Everest – Labrinth

In Deep Water

• Why Do We Fall – Hans Zimmer

Checkmate

• Vasily – Martin Phipps

How was the wedding?

• We Might Be Dead By Tomorrow – Soko  

Epilogue

• What You Won’t Do For Love – Luke Burr 

Murano on Amazon

Venice Bitch

We're here babies! It's taken a long time and if you read my blog regularly, you'll know that it's been a struggle. But we have arrived, Mother! I feel the message I can offer through this book, is that love will pierce through the darkest of nights.

I'm so excited for you all to dive deep into this and link all the little teasers I've provided, see where everyone connects to one another throughout the Italian Knights and fall in love with Beppe and Mimi as much as I did.

Murano on Amazon

Il retro

“How do you accidentally fall on a seven inch knife?”

And so began Mimi Johnson’s first argument with the man, the myth, the walking migraine that is Giuseppe Nardiello. If she had a pound for every time she thought about having him sectioned, she wouldn’t need to work at the Da Canaveze’s state of the art private hospital. She wouldn’t need to work at all.

With their two best friend’s falling in love and getting married, eyes fell to them to do the same and sharpish. Mimi couldn’t truly appreciate the convenience of someone as gorgeous and ripped and borderline unbalanced as Beppe landing in her surgical lap just like that. What else could be wrong with him?

Beppe is the last man standing among his be-ringed mates, a status he feels rather content with until he catches Mimi’s cheeky little grin and gets firm confirmation which end she’s had her piercings; plural… He’s ready to give his all to her, but he’s missing the familial piece of his own puzzle that will make him feel whole. Adopted as a baby after the gruesome murder of his birth mother, he’s never truly known himself, until a letter arrives from a lawyer in Venice, finally telling him that the island of Murano holds all the answers key to even his very name.

Borderline or not, Beppe is the perfect man and Mimi couldn’t bear for anything to happen to him. If she has to use all her skills and piercings to convince him to protect himself from the obvious danger on that island, they’re all on the operating table.

From London to Marseille to Venice and the island itself, Murano drags Beppe and Mimi on a dangerous journey of discovery. Love truly saves all, but will it be enough to save them both from the terror behind the truth?

This is book seven in the Italian Knights Series, to be taken all at once, preferably with something stronger than water coz it’s about to get a bit mad… 

Estratto

Beppe moved into the seat next to Mimi. “Nice toast. How’d you like my speech?” he asked.

Mimi laughed. “It was genuinely sweet and ridiculous. You know he’s going to kill you, don’t you?”

Beppe pooh-poohed the very idea. “He’s not doing shit but checking out his wife’s underwear.”

She tilted her head. “I can honestly say he’s going to have the best night tonight as long as he doesn’t drink too much. Her underwear is fire!”

He waited a beat. “You’re not going to excuse this as a girl crush or a momentary bi leaning?”

“My friend is insanely sexy. I can say that without any latent homophobia.” Mimi shrugged and picked up her champagne glass. “What the fuck is a ‘girl crush’ anyway? If you think someone’s attractive, male or female, why does it need to be excused? It’s not like I’m going to try and get her into bed. Let me feel my friend’s oats!”

He paused again. “You don’t want to try to get her into bed?”

“No. Don’t get a hard-on about it.”

Beppe opened his mouth to protest, when Anna’s father tapped Beppe on the shoulder. “Son, we need to have a chat about your language. Anna’s ninety-year-old grandmother is here.”

He blinked. “But did she hear?”

Anna’s father frowned briefly. “I’m… Maybe not.”

Beppe spread his palms. “Sorted.”

Immediately, he looked for Mimi who was talking to Lydia as she had emerged from under the table. Fuck! His disappointment at being interrupted was only slightly assuaged by the mild bollocking he received from his friends and the hugs he enjoyed from Rocco’s sister and Nonna. The tables were cleared for Rocco and Anna to have their first dance. As truly befit them, Dinah Washington crooned to them, Rocco swinging them across the floor like a professional.

“He’s missing a number on his back,” Mimi said into his ear.

“What would he get if he was on tv?” he asked, barely looking away.

“Len Goodman’s a traditionalist,” Mimi replied, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Maybe an eight if he threw in a fleckle.”

The guests were encouraged to join in as Etta Jones sang softly and dreamily to them all. “Come on. Let me see if I can throw one in. Get myself an imaginary nine.”

“You seriously watch Strictly?”

He frowned at her. “Were you not just giving me a lecture about latent homophobia?”

She nodded and accepted his hand to lead them onto the floor. He gently lifted her arm for her to circle him in a pretty little round before he curved her into his body. “Foxtrot,” he advised. “Slow, slow, quick, quick, slow.”

“How?” Her mouth parted on a huge smile of surprise.

“My mother taught me.” He said it casually enough to hopefully not lead Mimi into further questions. “She said it was important for me to know how to lead on a dance floor and how to handle a woman respectfully.”

Mimi gazed at him. “I’m impressed. Am I doing a heel lead?”

“Can’t see your feet, Amelia, but I’m assuming you’re not turning on your toes, or else you’d be bobbing up and down. There’s no rise and fall in the foxtrot.”

Mimi took a deep breath. “I’m not going to lie; this is turning me on a bit.”

He looked down at her, mouth parted and breasts heaving inside her pink embroidered dress. “Let’s go somewhere a little quieter.”

Leading her out of the main ballroom, he could sense a tangible anticipation in the air. He’d never been so grateful to his foster mother.

Finish Line

Faaaackin' hell, I feel like Frodo at the end of Return of the King. I'm at the top of a flaming Mount Doom and I couldn't give a monkeys because I've finished. It is finished (sorry had to go Biblical). I am done! Funnily enough, I had a pre-completion cry because stupid me decided to listen to Grey Havens. My nerdishness around those films knows no bounds. Apart from the Titanic soundtrack, Lord of the Rings, Return of the King will guarantee me to cry. I used to think that if I ever became an actress (still a chance, Lady London will tell you about my dramatics) I would be able to cry on command by just recalling that music. "Miss London, you need to be emotional in this scene. Do you need some fake tears?"
"Move man. Bring my my phone and my Beats!"
Back to the main event. You know I write out of order. I don't write a story from A - Z because... well that's kinda boooorrriiiiing (Villanelle yell). I write the bits that are interesting first. So usually sex. Fight scenes. Banter. Food. Oh my god, so much food! More banter, and probably my favourite dinner scene between two characters ever. Obvs because Giuseppe Nardiello is one of them. Actually, there are two and Nonna Mamione is one of them.
I can be honest about why this book was so hard to finish. In between traumatic events which have been far too frequent, I'd like to end my trial period of trauma until 2031 please and thank you God, I didn't really want to say goodbye to these folks.
Nick and Gina have been my bezzies for the better part of a decade. Tony has been winding up Lydia for eight years. Rocco has succeeded in taming his storm, Anna, Luca has found his peace with Frankie, Auntie Belinda is getting it good and regular from OG Massimo (my true sugar daddy) Sofia is making herself content with Paul who is concentrating on being a good husband, a good son to a woman who never had her own children and keeping his wife in booze. Durante Da Canaveze has made Ella settle down. Ella! The freest of free spirits who couldn't give a fuck about anything but her son and Arlo Vitale. Speaking of, that little fucker is a big boy now. With a degree and everything! I've wrapped everyone up with Paperchase wrapping paper, with nice little bows and invisible sellotape.
So Beppe and Mimi were both like, "Excusi, what the fuck about us?"
Hot Muse Hank totally told me "Tell them both to do one, we're not ready! Too much junk is happening right now."
So I did. In the middle of all the shit that goes down for both of them, I needed a break. It was too much and too close to home and you all know I can't and don't write when I'm emotional. I cannae do it, Captain, I just don't have the power!
After Hot Muse Hank told me to get rid sharpish, Beppe and Meems were like "Well, fine. Fuck you too!" And disappeared into the night, never to be seen. Until Jack motherfucking Garrett and his voice of knicker-wetting gold. There's one song, and it rocks up on the soundtrack for Murano and the story came at me again, like it was playing at the IMAX. I saw Beppe and Mimi falling in love. I saw their wedding in Technicolor, down to the type of shoes Bep wears and the colour of Mimi's dress. I saw everyone backing Beppe up when he needed it. Anna being such a badass and yet fearful of losing the only friend she really has (Rocco doesn't count, he pounds her). Mimi told me where her piercings were and Beppe his favourite holiday. I love these people like they are family and half of why I burst into tears last night, wasn't just relief, or happiness, it was goodbye. I didn't want to let them go, they're bloody hilarious!
Anyway! It's done. Finito. Hot Muse Hank gave himself a pat on the back and snored off. I stayed awake until 2am, thinking what I'm going to do with myself, now my babies are all grown up causing havoc in their own world without me.
It woke Hot Muse Hank enough to remind me to finish my Japanese dragon story. To finish Carole and Aneurin's tale. To sort out Taemar and Jack. Or do that murder at a wedding story which has written itself bar a few details. Or deal with those four women and a gun in East London. Maybe I could think about that fantasy novel I started years ago or fill out the short story about a director and her Irish seducer. And now that the biggest weight is off my shoulders with Murano, I feel I can dedicate that time to those tales.
Until edits. I mean, it could be 112,400 of utter shit and needs a hella load of work to even begin to be read-worthy (you read that right. 112,400 words). Or I'm just gaslighting myself and I need to chill out. I'm chilled. I'm happy. Truly, for the first time in a long time with the words I've typed to reach my "The End"...
Happy. Me.
I feel... I feel... I feel pretty good.

Beautiful Ones

So I’m on the home stretch with Murano, aka Italian Knights 7, aka Beppe’s story. There are about ten or so scenes that will connect the story from beginning to end and finish the flow. It’s not been an easy write, I’ll be honest. I knew what I wanted to write and I knew essentially what would happen and that the focus would be on Bep. Everything played in my head like a Christopher Nolan story, to the point where The Dark Knight Rises soundtrack has been my go to with everything. I mean not the bang-bang scenes, that would have been weird – but all the deep bits, the funny bits, the ‘where is this going mate’ bits, have had Hans Zimmer cheering it along. But I had a George RR Martin moment. The story got too big for me. I worried about how people would take to Mimi. Really worried. Because everyone knows that the heroine has to earn the hero – rarely the other way around, especially if he’s been established in previous books. Mimi is like a best mate and I want to protect her from any nonsense. It made me think what Beppe likes about so much that he falls for her and pretty damn hard. Let me try to do this without giving anything away. No spoilers.

1.       She’s a surgeon and she really enjoys it to a sort of perverse level. You kind of have to, in order to cut up people for a living and go home to sleep like a baby at night, no drugs involved.

2.       Speaking of drugs, she understands Bep’s vocation. You’ll get that when you read it.  

3.       She listens. To be as distracted as Beppe can be and to be patient enough to wait for him to get to his point and to hear what he’s said to have a conversation with him, rather than dismissing him as weird is something wonderful.

4.       She doesn’t give a fuck and she will tell you to your face. There are few people’s opinions that matter to her and they happen to be the same as Bep. Kismet.

5.       She’s kinky like him. You’ll see.

6.       She accepts him for who he is and that’s a lot when you think about the type of dude he is. Man’s wild.

7.       She’ll fight people for him. Verbally and physically. What it is to have a girl bat for you and bat hard with all the tools she has in her arsenal and then some, can only be a sign of true love and affection.

8.       His happiness is her happiness. The simplest things makes them both delight in the world and that shared joy brings the world into focus, excluding everyone but the two of you.

9.       She doesn’t hide her affections, making her as straight as a die. In a world of coded messages and timed communications, it’s refreshing to not doubt how a person feels about you.

10.   She’s fit. Come on, he’s Italian! He likes good looking girls and Amelia Johnson is buff.

Let me do the same the other way around for evens stevens:

a)       Giuseppe Nardiello is ridiculous to look at let alone to touch. There’s a scene where he lets her put hands on and… yah.

b)      He’s a South Londoner and proud of it. He knows the city inside out and enjoys it with her.

c)       He does something for her that heals a crack in her heart like nothing else could have and no one else would have done. Actually, he does that a few times.

d)      He tear gases her neighbours for her. That’s romance when your neighbours are bastards.

e)      He appreciates her dedication to her craft and that sometimes, it comes first. It just has to.

f)        Beppe cracks her up. He’s said things to me that I’ve repeated to other people that has made them laugh just as hard.

g)       He’d kill to protect her. No questions asked.

h)      He loves his friends like family. You’ll see.

i)        He’s a feminist.

j)        He’s a clean freak. He has his places of sanctuary and they must be clean at all times. Good times or no. Think Naomi Campbell in flight mode.

Funny how that’s been the easiest thing of Murano to write – why Bep loves Meems and why Mimi loves her Beppe. They’re just two nice folks, with terrible things happening around and to them who hold on to one another to live through the storms. What they have together in the quiet, the stillness, after the rages have passed, is something that I’m rather proud of.

You’ll see when it’s done. Let me get back to it.

Sorry

I am firmly on the Beppe and Mimi train! It’s taken a while, and I’ve been told why. I read an article about romance tropes in TV series – and how badly they’re done. One of them was “last folks standing”. Giuseppe and Amelia said nothing while I read it, just sipped on some Marks and Spencer tea, waiting for the penny to drop. Drop it did. With a clang.

I had to convince them that I’m not just putting them together because they’re the last free people of the Italian Knights world. Mostly, I’m handing them to one another just because there’s no one else that can put up with either of them. Hold on Mimi, don’t wave that at me, I’m going to explain.

First, Beppe is strange. No two ways about it. He’s a sandwich short of a picnic. Who else would turn up at his friend’s blessing with a bandana over their face? Or sing to his friend’s ex in the parking zone of a strip club? Or drug said friend to make sure he stayed put to speak to the same ex? Normal people don’t do that. If I told you the things he comes out with in this story, now he’s talking to me... I’m scared. Hot Muse Hank is a little concerned. I need a hug.

Secondly, there’s Amelia. No one gets their name shortened to Mimi unless there’s plenty of cray running around the place.  She’s a surgeon. If you work in medicine, there’s a switch in you that’s off. It has to be, or how else do you cut up people on a daily and enjoy it? It’s her second most favourite thing in the world. Second. To what, you’ll find out.

And they have this weird as hell shared history – of family, of areas they associate with their childhood, of how science saved them both from the spiral of depression... I don’t know how it happened to be that way, but it is what it is.

All of that is definitely not because they’re the last two standing. It’s because they’re perfect for each other. In the oddest way possible, and in ways I couldn’t have imagined before now.

Weird. As. Hell.

Beppe: Should we tell her?

Mimi: No-ho-ho! Let her find out for herself. It’s more fun that way.

Find out what? WHAAAAAAAAT?

Happy birthday to me!

Today's my birthday! Woo hoo! I'm old!! Actually, I'm going to share this day with Beppe ^^^^ (ta very much Stuart Bellamy <3). Why not? JK Rowling shares her birthday with Harry Potter. I'm selfish that way. It means I get to keep him all to myself. Mostly. So, to celebrate us both, I'm giving you all a sneak peek of Beppe in one of his little moments that makes Mimi fall for him. It is without doubt one of the kindest things a man could do for his woman.

Mimi dragged her pillow over her head, cutting off Beppe mid-conversation and rather unfairly, mid-seduction. “They’re such selfish bastards!”

“Who?” What just happened? Why wasn’t any loving happening right now?

She lifted the pillow, face puffed with anger. “The fuckers across the road who are having yet another party! It’s Wednesday night! I’m working tomorrow for your bloody best friend!”

“Ah.” That made him feel somewhat better. His prowess remained intact. “Okay, let me deal with this.”

“And what are you going to do?” she asked, curling her top lip in sarcasm. “Execute them all?”

“Wendy Darling,” he caught her hand and pressed it to his chest. “I’m offended that you’d think I’d stoop to the lowest common denominator. I’ll be back.”

He threw back the sheets and pulled on his jeans and chucked a t-shirt over his head. No need for too many clothes. Mimi watched him, and he could feel the concern burning holes into the back of his skull.

“Seriously, don’t kill anyone.”

“I heard you the first time.” He flashed her a grin and loped down the stairs to where his bag remained, abandoned in the corridor of Mimi’s home. Just when he thought they were getting somewhere, yet again someone else interfered.

Beppe scrambled around in the canvas, on the hunt for ah, just where he left it. He lifted a gas mask from the bag and fitted it over his face, then snapped on latex gloves. Whistling, he stalked out of the house, and removed exactly what he needed to get Amelia to focus for longer than five minutes on one thing. As a woman, she could multi-task to glory, but as a girlfriend, she was failing on basic concentration.

With two cans of tear gas in each hand, and one in each pocket, Beppe walked across the road to the neighbour’s rowdy party. A loping, intoxicated man slurred at him, “Oi, where the fuck are you going?”

Beppe just nudged him gently and he toppled like a toy car. He broke off one of the cans of tear gas and threw it into the living room, repeating the same in the kitchen and watched streams of people trying to leave the house. He lobbed a can up the stairs and then stopped to locate the electricity box.

Singing Whitney Houston’s How Will I Know to himself as people screamed and yelled, he reached into the back pocket of his jeans, withdrawing a miniature toolbox. With a pair of pliers, he nipped through the electricity mains. The music and lights died instantaneously. Easy. Why people refused to be considerate of their neighbours, he had no idea. They would be the same people who would look out for their property if they disappeared on holiday; alert them if something strange happened in their living room, and more than likely allow them to share the Wi-Fi password. Neighbourly-ness went far. And Beppe knew all his neighbours, so well that each and every single one of them would vouch for him, if worst came to the worst. Maybe he should introduce them to Mimi... 

He gave it another five minutes for the gas to take effect and then left the house, closing the door behind him. Beppe retreated to Mimi’s back garden, loping himself over the fence. Behind her azalea bush, her actual plant and not the body part she was trying to keep him from; he removed his gas mask and clothing. He doused his naked self with water from the garden hose, and re-entered the house. A good, chivalrous night’s work.

Mimi stood on the stairs, staring at him. He blinked at her, dripping water on her bare floorboards. The minute she got the place carpeted, would be the minute she would stop looking for problems between them, he had a really good feeling about that. An uncarpeted house just caused problems for any relationship. Budding or otherwise.

“Did you just tear gas my neighbours?” she asked, a hand on her throat.

Beppe shook water from his ear. “Yeah, I did. But to be fair, they’re quiet now. And perhaps, you and I can have a bit of a chat. Because, and I’ll be honest with you Amelia, it’d be nice if we could talk without you finding everything else in the world more interesting than us…”

She cut him off, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips to his. The warmth of Amelia drizzled through him, seizing the cold shivers from his hose pipe shower. She lifted her mouth and whispered, “That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

Wary, Beppe eased back to look at her face. Nothing but sincerity and gratitude blazed from her. “Really?”

“I’d take this over a bunch of flowers any day.” She traced a hand over his collarbone. “Do you want a hot shower? You feel cold.”

He lifted a brow. “Are you coming with?”

Her lips curved into a devious smile. “I’ve got surprises for you that are waterproof.”

At that moment, Beppe realised that he would owe Rocky and Anna for life. They’d found the perfect woman for him. Those bollocking bastards…

And So It Goes...

If you haven't already seen, this is the glorious cover for IK6, Durante and Ella's story. As has now become traditional, the cover means, I'm also preparing for what I believe will be the last in the series (but never say never - one may do a little novel here and there, should the characters berate me sufficiently). Maybe that's why I'm so reluctant to finish it. I don't really want to say goodbye to the nutcases. Speaking of, get to know Beppe and Mimi a little better...

1.       Who are you closest to?

Beppe

“I’m coming out! I want the world to know, got to let it show!” Billy, you lazy cow! What have you been up to? Not me, I can see. What was the question? Oh yeah, that beautifully pomade ridden donkey fucker, Mamione. He knows all my deepest. As do you, my busty love. Have you thought about a breast reduction? I mean your back... Aren’t you crippled?

Mimi

“And so I face, the final curtain!” Aren’t you relieved this is the end of it all? No? Crazy. I’m closest to the cool, leggy, super sharp would break your heart in three words or less, Mrs. Anna Mamione-Taylor. That’s a mouthful! She’s done me a serious solid with so many things, and I’m honoured I could be there for her, too.

2.       What’s your earliest memory?

Beppe

I think I got into the medicine cabinet at my foster mother’s and I may have put a lot into my foster father’s drink. I dunno. Maybe. Can’t admit to anything, don’t want any legacy cases brought against me. But I do know that triggered my love of the chemical. I’ll take a hug. Why?

Mimi

Going shopping with my mum and her telling me I should make sure I have my own money to buy things in future, because I won’t always have a daddy to do it for me. She wasn’t lying.

3.       What’s your biggest fear?

Beppe

I don’t have kids, so it hasn’t happened yet. Still time. Aww, cheer up Billy the Kid, I’m not sure the world can truly handle more than one of me.

Mimi

Leaving a similar trail of destruction in my own family as mine did to me. No one wants to really be their parents, but it kinda is inevitable.

4.       What are you best at?

Beppe

Chemicals. They get me. I mean I’m a people person, but the delight of the combinations of different elements, brings me such peace and joy. Do you want a hug? Come on, let’s have a hug about your lack of chemical understanding. It’s fine. It doesn’t detract from you as a person. Much.

Mimi

Give me a scalpel a bone saw and rib separators and I am ready. This bitch can sew you up like an Italian leather shoe. Speaking of, sweets, have you thought about a breast reduction? Really? Doesn’t your back hurt? Really? Wow. I’m here for you.

5.       Tell us something that will shock us.

Beppe

I keep weapons grade tear gas in my car boot. I don’t know when I’ll need it. Why are you looking at me like that?

Mimi

I may have kept the scalpel from my first operation on a patient. Oh, don’t give me that look! I cleaned it before I stashed it my bag.

6.       What do you value in a partner?

Beppe

Amelia Johnson’s arse. Now that’s weapons grade.

Mimi

Sense. I do, I really need someone to help me keep my feet on the ground. I worry I’m unbalanced. Yes, I have met Nardiello, and he reassures me that the trait of sense is a necessity in my future partner.

7.       Describe the last time you felt happy.

Beppe

When Mimi called me to thank me for getting her a job. Beginning of something beautiful. Don’t cock block, London, I see you.

Mimi

The first day I stepped into my own home. Bought, lock, stock and barrel. What else? Okay, maybe when Nardiello said something complimentary about my work. I will cut you if you tell him. I’m not even joking. I would. You know I would.

8.       What’s your biggest regret?

Beppe

Not knowing my parents. Well, my mum’s dead, so it can’t be her regret that she didn’t know me, can it? Can’t really speak for dear Papa.

Mimi

Ooh, I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of. Putting them in order of worst to even worse would not help anyone.

9.       What’s the one thing you’d change about yourself?

Beppe

I think I think too much. I have depths and talents, held back by aforethought. I may also have a slight inclination towards madness. When people say they have rage black outs, they have no idea. I get mad, and I remember everything I do, to the letter. And it doesn’t bother me. Yeah, I’ll take a hug, what for?

Mimi

I’d be a bit more forgiving. I’ve seen enough disease to know my body is fine as it is. Shut up Nardiello! I’m healthy. Forgiveness is like a superpower.

         

10.   What item can’t you live without?

Beppe

Does Amelia count?

Mimi

Don’t make me shallow. It’s nothing to do with Lost Boy. It isn’t! God, maybe I should learn how to lie about that man. 

Visions

Lucky 7/11! Since this a super lucky day and those boys are pretty damn lucky (bullets not the other, thank you very much Nicholas) I'd thought I'd share something with you all. A little snippet of what's coming via a certain mad scientist and his even more mad surgeon. Like Dr Jekyl and Mr. Hyde (surgeons in the UK go by Mr or Ms) two sides of the same coin, Beppe and Mimi go together like crumble and custard (on a diet, thinking about food sorry). Think of this as a leg up to look in at the dawn (or rather dusk given the scenario) of a strange and all but natural alliance. This is Murano, aka Italian Knights Book Seven...

Prologue

Light stung his eyes, as he slowly regained consciousness. Where am I? He thought. I did the job and... 

“Hello there,” a voice said cheerily. “Welcome back. For a minute, I thought I knocked you out too hard.”

Panic filtered through him. He desperately tried to sit up and found his wrists and ankles bound to the elaborate four poster bed. Perched on his right, sat the blond virus they called Giuseppe Nardiello. Rumoured to be psychologically unstable. The mad doctor who experimented on his victims. 

“I won’t tell you anything,” the man braved, his mind filtering through all the terrible ways men had been disposed of at Giuseppe’s hands.

Giuseppe laughed. “Let’s just set things straight. I mean, you may end up changing your mind. Over to your left, is my lovely, brand new wife, Amelia.”

“Hi!” An even cheerier voice intervened. The man glanced to his left. Amelia suited the soft lighting of the elaborate hotel suite. Her hair rippled in waves like a dark chocolate waterfall over one shoulder, generous mouth curved in a smile. During his attempt to end her life, the man hadn’t appreciated her beauty. He wondered briefly if Giuseppe had drugged him, because the Madonna-on-the-rocks-like serenity that lifted her features gave her an angelic glow. Drugs. For certain.

“Not looking too great there,” Amelia said, a wince in her crisp voice. “Talking will help.”

“My Amelia happens to be a most skilled surgeon,” Giuseppe announced. “I’d say the best in the country.” 

“Aww, Bep!”

“True,” her husband shrugged off the endearment without artifice. “And what you’ve done, is try to kill her on her honeymoon. Do you know how long it took me to convince her to go out with me, let alone marry me?”

“Long time,” Amelia agreed. “Tried to have him sectioned for mentioning marriage.”

“Really tried.”

Amelia made a noise in her throat that vocalised uncertainty. “Kinda tried. If I really tried, you’d still be under psych evaluation.”

“Do you get it?” Giuseppe addressed him directly. “And she actually likes me. She may not seem it, but Amelia is not happy right now.”

“Nope.”

“When she’s not happy, she’s more deadly.” Giuseppe leaned forward, his voice lowering to a whisper. “The longer you keep quiet, the unhappier my sweet, new wife is going to be. All because you fucked up her honeymoon.”

“Truly fucked it up. It wasn’t the way I planned on spending my first twenty four hours as Signora Nardiello, but... You just had to interrupt it.”

“See? She’s fuming. I mean I know she’s smiling, but that’s because she loves me.” Amelia blew Giuseppe a kiss. “And she really enjoys cutting people up.”

“Second most favourite thing to do in the world.”

“Tell me again,” Giuseppe said softly, “how much you don’t want to talk. Make yourself a nice wedding present to my bride.”

Stubbornly, the man kept his mouth shut. Between uncertainty of what was to happen to him and what would be done to him if he did talk, he found his vocal cords frozen.

“Scalpel please, Lost Boy,” Amelia demanded, voice impatient as she snapped her fingers. “I need to cut.”

“Start with a kidney,” Giuseppe offered, getting to his feet. “He’s Venetian. He won’t miss it. Not much. Yeah. He’s going to miss it...”