The Little Italian Hotel
Author: Phaedra Patrick
On Sale June 6, 2023
Park Row Books
Paperback Original
ISBN 9780778387121
Price: $18.99
When a
relationship expert’s own marriage falls apart, she invites four
strangers to Italy for a vacation of healing and second chances in
this uplifting new novel from the author of The Messy Lives of Book
People.
Ginny Splinter, acclaimed radio host and advice
expert, prides herself on knowing what’s best for others. So she’s sure her
husband, Adrian, will love the special trip to Italy she’s planned for their
twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. But when Ginny presents the gift to Adrian,
he surprises her with his own very different plan—a divorce.
Beside herself with heartache, Ginny impulsively
invites four heartbroken listeners to join her in Italy instead while live on
air. From hiking the hills of Bologna to riding a gondola in Venice to sharing
stories around the dining table of the little Italian hotel, Ginny and her
newfound company embark on a vacation of healing.
However, when Adrian starts to rethink their
relationship, Ginny must decide whether to commit to her marriage or start
afresh, alone. And an unexpected stranger may hold the key to a very different
future… Sunny, tender and brimming with charm, The Little Italian Hotel explores
marriage, identity and reclaiming the present moment—even if it means leaving
the past behind.
PRAISE:
““The Little Italian Hotel is a charming story about
healing, new friendships, and second chances at life.” -BOOKLIST
“A
story about broken hearts meeting and mending. With its intriguing premise,
colorful mix of characters and gorgeous setting, it was a real treat to read.
Phaedra Patrick always writes so beautifully and this book is like a burst of
sunshine.” –Hazel Prior, author of HOW THE PENGUINS
SAVED VERONICA
“The
perfect balm for an aching heart, The Little Italian Hotel is
an entrancing journey from unexpected (and unwelcome) life events to healing
and found family. You’ll wish you could join this delightful cast of characters
in the cozy, welcoming Splendido hotel.” —Amy E. Reichert, author
of The Kindred Spirits Supper Club
"Phaedra
Patrick has done it again with this absolute charmer of a novel. With keenly
observed characters and Patrick’s signature wit, The Little Italian
Hotel celebrates the healing power of community and insists that it’s
never too late to bet on yourself. I loved this transportive, life-affirming
novel." —Amy Meyerson, bestselling author of The Bookshop
of Yesterdays
"A
heart-warming and life-affirming story of five heartbroken strangers trying to
wade through on their own—and learning that sometimes all we need is each
other. Throw in a charming Italian hotel, a handsome proprietor and Patrick's
perceptive wisdom and witticisms, and you've got the perfect summer
read." —Colleen Oakley, USA Today bestselling
author of The Mostly True Story of Tanner & Louise
Mountains
“Hi, it’s Ginny Splinter, I’m listening. Tell me your
worries…”
It was something she said so many times a day on her
Just Ask Ginny radio show it had become second nature, like sprinkling
sunflower seeds on her muesli or kissing her husband, Adrian, on the cheek
before he left for work each morning.
Ginny arrived early at the Talk Heart FM studio that
day to pass a financial planning article to a security guard who’d confided to
her he was struggling to pay his rent. She stopped to chat to the young
receptionist whose boyfriend wouldn’t commit to anything more serious between
them.
“You shouldn’t rely on him for your own self-esteem.
Never forget you’re a prize worth winning,” Ginny told her with a kind smile.
“Come talk to me anytime.”
The receptionist wiped a tear from her eye. “Do you really mean
that?”
“A promise is a promise. Stay strong, sweetheart.”
Ginny
walked away with a glow in her chest, touched when others trusted her with
their personal issues. She wasn’t one to toot her own horn, but when her
friends wept into their chardonnay, she was the one they turned to for good
advice and packets of tissues. Where others saw paths littered with broken
glass, she chose to picture the sun rising over the mountains. It was probably
why thousands of folk from Greenham, Ginny’s leafy northwest England hometown,
tuned in to her daily advice show.
Throughout
her fifteen years on the air, there wasn’t a problem Ginny hadn’t tried to
fix, whether it was loneliness, retirement worries, body dysmorphia, noisy
neighbors or bullying at work. She offered solutions for the lost loves, secret
loves and the never-been-in-loves. Empathy was her superpower.
Other
people’s issues made her appreciate her happy marriage all the more. Her twenty-fifth
wedding anniversary was just around the corner and she couldn’t wait to
celebrate it in style. Whenever Ginny thought about the surprise holiday she’d
booked for her and Adrian, in Italy, she couldn’t help smiling. Next month, in
June, they were going to be staying in a gorgeous little village, Vigornuovo
in Bologna, for three whole weeks. It would also be the perfect opportunity to
renew their wedding vows, to reaffirm their love and commitment to each other
and to have some fun, too.
The thought of spending quality time alone with her husband
made a rush of warmth flood her skin. Ginny couldn’t wait to wander the side
streets of Venice at dusk and admire Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus in the Uffizi Gallery in Florence. More than
anything, she wanted to reignite the spark in her marriage. She and Adrian had
been so busy recently that they were like cars speeding along a motorway in
opposite directions. It made her feel uncharacteristically listless,
especially now that their daughter, twenty-four-year-old Phoebe, had left
home to move in with her fiancé, Pete, and was busy arranging her own wedding.
Ginny
usually advised fellow empty nesters to keep busy by taking up a new hobby,
perhaps home baking or walking a neighbor’s dog, but she was struggling to
practice what she preached. Her hormones had felt out of balance for some time
and sticking HRT patches to her backside, to banish her hot flashes, hadn’t
proved to be the wonder cure she’d hoped for.
Last week,
she’d had a worrying urge to rip open her blouse on the high street and flash
her lacy bra to passersby. “See, I’m here, still desirable, not invisible!”
she’d wanted to shout. But really, she wanted her husband to make her feel that
way. The Italian holiday was going to be the perfect solution.
When she
stepped into the elevator at work, Ginny was faced with a new life-sized poster
of herself. She had an auburn high ponytail with a trademark curl at the end,
and was wearing a pastel blue skirt suit with animal print heels. Her face had
been airbrushed, removing every wrinkle, and she’d been given a golden halo and
wings.
Ginny Splinter, Advice Angel, said the tagline.
Ginny pursed her lips. She didn’t like that her
lines had been erased. She’d earned them over forty-nine years of life experience,
like gathering stamps in a passport.
In the office, she waved at her latest producer,
Tam. There was a conveyor belt of young graduates keen to join Talk Heart FM,
using it as a training ground before migrating to bigger and better roles
elsewhere. Tam was the latest recruit. She buzzed with ideas and her oversized
black-rimmed glasses screamed ambition.
Tam propelled her chair across
the office at great speed while sitting in it. “Gin, babe,” she said, tapping a
pen against her teeth. “Thought we’d shake things up today and take some
live calls, if you’re up for it?”
Ginny sat
down at her desk and frowned. “Are you sure that’s sensible? We’ve got time to
run through the show and handpick a few problems. It gives me time to digest
them and give my best advice.”
Her mind
flicked back to a live call during which a woman had set fire to her husband’s
clothes after discovering his affair. Fortunately, he’d not been wearing them
at the time. Afterward, Ginny had fielded lots of calls from concerned listeners
and had to assure them everything was okay. Since then, all her producers
preferred to pre-record conversations.
Tam
drummed her fingers on the table. “Come on, Gin. Today’s lead news story is
about a herd of sheep escaping into Greenham town center.” She fanned a yawn
with her hand. “You must be bored of the same old format, too. We don’t want Just Ask Ginny to become the missionary position of advice shows.”
Ginny narrowed her eyes. She knew her audience well.
“Playing some great music, reading out listeners’ letters and giving them
advice on air, plus a few pre-recorded interviews is a proven formula,” she
said. “And the new poster makes me look like someone off Love Island.”
Tam slow-blinked and tapped her teeth again. “Hmm…”
she said, looking Ginny up and down critically. “Not sure about that.”
Ginny was increasingly aware
she was now twice the age of her colleagues. It felt unbelievable, laughable
even, that she and Adrian would both turn fifty later that year. She always
told callers that age was just a number, but she was finding the milestone
confusing. One minute, she treated herself to a new pair of sparkly stilettoes,
and the next she found herself reading reviews for thermal nightdresses. She
bought pretty lingerie and vitamins to improve her energy levels. She was far
from being old, but her youth sometimes seemed like a distant memory.
“I’ve made
my decision.” Tam pointed her pen at Ginny’s chest like a pistol. “Let’s go for
the live calls.”
Ginny
tried not to growl.
A few
minutes later, she went live on air, playing songs by Ed Sheeran, Adele and
Coldplay, slotting in a couple of her own choices by Red Hot Chili Peppers and
The Strokes.
Many of
the callers seeking advice used a pseudonym and sometimes even affected a fake
voice. Ginny nervously gnawed the inside of her cheek as she took a live call
from Confused of Greenham. The woman didn’t know whether to enter a third
marriage with a kind, generous man she didn’t love, or to pursue a fling with a
younger pizza delivery guy.
“Picture yourself five years from now,” Ginny said.
“You’re lying on your sofa, wrapped in a blanket with a dose of the flu. A hand
gently sweeps the hair off your clammy forehead. You open your eyes and see
someone holding out a cup of hot tea and some aspirin for you. Is it your
fiancé or the pizza guy?”
“My fiancé, I suppose,” Confused said.
“Then there’s your answer. You can get pizza anytime
from any place. Care and understanding are more difficult to come by.”
Ginny wrapped up the call and Tam’s weary voice came
through her headphones. “Try making the next call sexier, Gin,” she said. “We
don’t want listeners nodding off.”
“I’m here to help, not titillate,” Ginny said
through gritted teeth. She ran a hand down her ponytail and picked up a call
from the next person on the line. “Hello, it’s Ginny Splinter, I’m listening.
Tell me your worries.”
The woman’s voice sounded shaky. “Oh, hello. It’s
Miss…Peach.”
“Well, hi
there, Miss Peach. Thanks for joining me today,” Ginny said. “Is there anything
you’d like to share?”
The
caller’s words stuttered out. “I only stayed with my husband for the sake of
our child. You make a promise and then you’re stuck with it, for life. I wish
I’d got out while I had the chance… I’ve wasted so much precious time and now I
don’t know what to do.”
A familiar
ache of compassion rose in Ginny’s chest. It was something she welcomed but had
also learned to control, so other people’s problems didn’t affect her too
deeply. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she soothed. “It sounds like you’ve been through
a tough time. There’s nothing you can do to change the past, but you can take
control of your future.”
“What if
it’s too late for that?”
“It’s never too late to move on. Focus on yourself
and consider what you really want from life—”
“And what if I don’t know?” Miss Peach snapped.
“What if I’ve forgotten how to think about me?”
Ginny hmm’d and delivered a sympathetic pause while
considering what advice to give her caller. People often just needed a gentle
push in the right direction. “Why not make a list of all the things you enjoy,
perhaps a walk in the country or a trip to the cinema. Try to get to know
yourself again and—”
“As if that will work,” Miss Peach
interrupted, her tone growing more brittle. “And what do you know
anyway? You think you’re little Ms. Perfect, don’t you?”
Ginny’s scalp prickled and her mouth dried. Her
uneasy sensation made the room tilt a little. She waved a hand, trying to get
Tam’s attention through the glass partition, but the producer was busy
scrolling on her phone. “This call is about you, not me,” she told Miss Peach.
“Please don’t let your regrets eat you up.”
“I’ve seen photos of you and
your husband in a magazine. Adrian, isn’t it? You think you have such a marvelous life
together.”
Ginny’s heartbeat began to thump ominously in her
ears. A few thousand people would be listening in to this conversation. Oh,
god, she hoped Adrian or Phoebe weren’t tuning in. Organizing a wedding was
stressful enough for her daughter without this. Ginny drew a finger
across her neck, indicating to Tam she was thinking of cutting the caller off.
Her producer didn’t notice.
“Shouldn’t you address your own problems before you
lecture other people?” Miss Peach continued. “Do you even know what your
husband gets up to at work? How well do you really know him?”
Ginny hesitated and rubbed the double lines between
her eyebrows. Of course she knew Adrian, from the way the moles on his
back formed a diamond shape, to how he liked his toast served warm, not hot,
and with butter spread right to the edges. He didn’t like the bedroom to be
stuffy so he slept with the window ajar, even if it meant Ginny had to wear
socks in bed during winter. He thought Porsches were works of art but would
feel like a cliché owning one. He could be grumpy until his morning coffee
kicked in and he enjoyed a nice glass of Rioja most evenings. He loved dogs,
hated cats, liked dark chocolate but never white and sang Oasis songs while he
shaved.
Nevertheless, something icy seemed to slither down
her spine. “Miss Peach, what do you mean by—?” Ginny started.
“Ask him,” Miss Peach said.
“Ask him what?”
But there was a click and the line went dead.
Excerpted from
The Little Italian Hotel. Copyright © 2023 by Phaedra
Patrick. Published by Park Row Books, an imprint of HarperCollins.
Buy Links:
HarperCollins:
https://www.harpercollins.com/products/the-little-italian-hotel-phaedra-patrick?variant=40799581339682
BookShop.org: https://bookshop.org/p/books/the-little-italian-hotel-phaedra-patrick/18772980?ean=9780778387121
Barnes
& Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-little-italian-hotel-phaedra-patrick/1141998435
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/0778387127
Author Bio:
Phaedra Patrick is the bestselling author of
several novels, including The
Curious Charms of Arthur Pepper, which has been translated into
twenty-five languages worldwide. Her second novel, Rise and Shine Benedict Stone,
was made into a Hallmark movie. An award-winning short story writer, she
previously studied art and marketing and has worked as a stained glass artist,
film festival organizer and communications manager. Phaedra lives in Saddleworth,
UK, with her family.
Social
Links:
Author Website:
https://www.phaedra-patrick.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/phaedrapatrick
Instagram:
https://www.instagram.com/phaedrapatrick/
GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14203653.Phaedra_Patrick
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/phaedrapatrick
No comments:
Post a Comment