An American in Venice (World of Love) by Luca Domani | Cat's Release day Review & #giveaway @Dreamspinners

Tom has always been steady and predictable—a formula he’s sure will lead him to success in his career. When his method fails him and he loses his job, he throws caution to the wind for the first time in his life and books a European holiday.

Maybe Tom shouldn’t be surprised that Cupid’s arrow finds him in one of the most romantic cities in the world: Venice, Italy. When he encounters Giovanni working in the family pizzeria, it’s lust at first sight. Their time together touring the city is so magical it feels like a dream. But Tom is shy while Giovanni is charming and flirtatious. Tom has a newfound freedom with his unemployment, while family burdens weigh heavily on Giovanni. Add culture differences and miscommunication into the mix, and their brief romance might fade as quickly as the beautiful dream it resembles.

World of Love: Stories of romance that span every corner of the globe.

Buy links: Dreamspinner | Amazon US | Amazon UK

Cat gives this one 4 Meows with a 3 Purr heat index...

Tom has recently lost his job as an engineer. He took some of his retirement to travel. His first stop is Venice where he meets Giovanni a sexy Italian Pizzaria owner. With the beauty of Italy in the background, sparks fly. 

An American in a Venice is a short, sweet story.  I loved the setting and it felt like I was on a tour of Venice. If you like fast moving romance, beautiful settings, and some hot man-sex this is for you.

Excerpt...

THE WATER was up to his socks. Tom cursed his lack of preparation. At least the loafers were old and worn, so he didn’t care that they were ruined. But the only other shoes he had brought were a pair of slippers. On the other hand, he was grateful he had packed light and only carried a duffle bag on his shoulder. A rolling suitcase would have been a disaster in this situation.

“Acqua alta,” the clerk had explained apologetically before handing him the key.

There weren’t any rooms available on the upper floors, so Tom sloshed his way down the hallway, grimacing with each waterlogged step. He could hear a pump churning away somewhere down the hall. He wondered if there was water in the room, doubtful of the clerk’s assurances that it would be dry. When he opened the door, he almost tripped on the little ledge at the threshold. The rooms were a step higher than the hallway so that the water couldn’t seep into them during flood conditions. Still, it felt damp, and the watermarks on the wallpaper told of other acque alte that had overcome the few inches into the room. Tom looked around the small interior. It was cramped, furnished with a full-size bed and a mismatched bureau and nightstand. A dingy mirror hung on one wall. The windows were small and set high, looking out onto a neglected courtyard. At least it had its own bathroom, which was sized for efficiency. The shower stall consisted of a curtain around a drain. Still, it could have been worse. Venice was notoriously expensive, even in the off-season, and Tom had received what he paid for.

It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, to come to Venice. It had been fifteen years since he had visited, and that was when he was still in high school and accompanied by his parents and older brother. Despite the teenage embarrassment of having to travel with his family, he had fond memories of the magical city. He had always wanted to return to visit on his own when he was older, but never had a chance until now. That first visit had been in summer, though, when the weather was hot and the streets were crowded with tourists and gondoliers plying their trade. Now he was here in November, and it was cold and wet and quiet. He didn’t mind the quiet, but he hadn’t anticipated the floodwater.

He hadn’t anticipated the circumstances that brought him to Venice either. He had been laid off after working at the same biotech start-up for the past five years. The company had failed to obtain FDA approval for their drug delivery system, and they started letting people go. Tom had naively thought he was immune, as one of the people who had been there since the conception of the company, and he hadn’t bothered with job hunting like the rest of his colleagues. Too late, he realized he had been overconfident. The stock options that had once seemed like such a great benefit of the job were now worthless. The only silver lining was the size of his severance pay—one month for every year of service. Tom had been paid handsomely as one of the senior engineers, so nearly half a year of salary would give him a comfortable buffer as he looked for new employment.

He could have been prudent and saved the money, which was what everyone expected him to do. Instead he did something very un-Tom-like and impulsive: He decided to fulfill that unrealized dream to return to Venice, as well as see other parts of Europe. Unlike some of his friends, he hadn’t seen much of it, having spent a good portion of his twenties as a poor graduate student. After finishing his dissertation, Tom had immediately gone to work for the start-up. Now in his thirties, he saw it as an opportunity to do his version of backpacking across Europe, only with better lodgings. Venice was his first stop, and he planned to spend at least a week in the city.

He still felt good about that decision, in spite of the wet shoes. A new pair of shoes would have to wait until tomorrow, though; it was past nine o’clock and the stores were closed. Tom’s stomach growled to remind him that he hadn’t eaten anything more than a small sandwich that morning in the airport. At least the restaurants were still open. Tom sat down on the bed and peeled off his wet shoes and socks. He hung the socks on the towel rack. He didn’t have any choice but to put on the loafers again, squelching his way back into the lobby in the sodden shoes. As he left, the clerk reminded him that they locked the front door after midnight, so he would have to ring the doorbell if he was out later than that. Tom nodded, but he doubted he would be using it on this vacation.

Luca has been writing stories since childhood. Although he has a doctorate in engineering, he has never given up on his dream of being a writer. He adores science fiction and is partial to postapocalyptic epics with zombie hordes, but at heart, he is a hopeless romantic. Luca is married to his high school sweetheart, who is his muse and the love of his life. They reside in Massachusetts with their dog and cat. An American in Venice is his second publication outside of a technical journal.

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