International Women’s Day Festival: Little White Doves by Linda Falco Extract.

I’m excited to be working with Zooloos Blog Tours to be bringing you another stop in the International Women’s Day Festival Blog Tour. Today’s post is an extract for Linda Falco’s Little White Doves. Before we get to the extract, let’s meet the author and take a look at the book.

Linda was born in Forest Gate in the East End of London and grew up in one of London’s leafy
suburbs. The second of four children, raised by wonderful parents following the best traditions of
an Italian family – in a house full of love and happiness, respect and spaghetti.
She studied fashion design at The London College of Fashion and worked in partnership with her
sister in a bespoke bridal wear business for some years before running away to live the dream in
Lanzarote, making hay and carnival costumes in the sunshine. When she woke up, she returned to England and the theatre, supervising and designing for shows from Shakespeare to Pantomime and loving every minute.
She now lives in Hertfordshire with two gorgeous daughters and a scruffy dog
Follow her at:
Facebook : https://www.facebook.com/LindaFalcoAuthor

It’s time to take a look at the book:

NAPLES ITALY:1937
A Young girl disappears without a trace

LONDON ENGLAND:1971
A teenage boy doesn’t return home from School.

These two shocking events, three decades and hundreds of miles apart prove to be inexorably linked.
Amid their pain and turmoil, two broken women find the strength within themselves to fight back.
Two Mothers who go to extraordinary lengths to protect their children.
Valbonna, Who sacrifices everything for her child.
Donna, Whose fight to find her son takes her on a dangerous journey through Italy uncovering secrets that will change her life forever.

Published: March 8th 2022. Spellbound Books. Page Count: 310.

Book Hype.
The Story Graph.
Goodreads.
Amazon.
Book Depository.
Waterstones.

Now is the moment you’ve been waiting for; the extract:

Nola, Southern Italy 1937
The narrow street was deserted except for a young man sitting in front of a small café, his handsome face half in the shadow of a faded, striped umbrella. On the table a tiny white china cup of strong espresso coffee, a glass of water, a folded copy of Corriere Della Sera, a packet of Marlboro and an expensive gold lighter.
It was hot but not unbearably so; there was a slight breeze that lifted the canvas above him now and then and fanned the cheap paper napkins in their metal holder, like the fluttering wings of a trapped bird. He sat, relaxed and self-assured, in the soporific afternoon and gazed through sleepy, caramel-coloured eyes at the unfamiliar surroundings.
Black-eyed blinkered windows of shabby cream and terracotta houses giving away no clue to their dark interiors or absent occupants. Gaping mouths of open doors emanating aromas of slowly-simmered sweet tomatoes, basil and oregano, parmigiana and salami. Balconies above him strewn with washing, draped like bunting from some long-forgotten celebration. Three small shops, all closed and shuttered. A collection of rundown buildings at the far end of the street.
Workshops or factories, maybe?
He glanced down at his watch, a Rolex, and sighed; soon he would have to pay for his
coffee and get back on the road. Just time for one more cigarette…
Terrified screams severed the silence. Ripping through the calm of the dusty siesta. High-
pitched and piercing, mingled fear and hysteria. Four children came pelting round the corner.
‘Aiuta, Aiutame!’ Help, help me! Screamed the smallest and slowest. The two boys and taller girl launched themselves at the metal chain-link fence that bounded the factories, clung on like monkeys, then scrambled over and continued their hectic escape. The younger girl tried to do the same. She jumped at the fence and began to climb; she managed to get about half way when her shoe caught in the wire. Sobbing with fear and frustration she desperately tried to free herself.
“Nina! Aspetami!” Nina, wait for me!
She looked back over her shoulder, panic-stricken. Twisting her leg she yanked her foot out of the shoe but lost her grip on the fence as she did so and, with a gasp, fell to the ground. She landed flat on her back with a sickening thud. Her lungs emptied with a hiss. She lay motionless for a few seconds. Stunned. Then, shaking and fighting for breath, her heart hammering, she whimpered,
‘Mama.’
Footsteps crunched on the gravel beside her.
‘Non preocuparti bambina,’ – don’t worry child.
She turned her head painfully and looked up into a pair of beautiful caramel-coloured eyes.
‘Ti porto a casa.’ I’ll take you home.
He gently picked her up, smiling down at her. She closed her eyes.
The child, Valbonna, never went home again.

There we go! What a great extract. Let me know your thoughts in the comments, and don’t forget to check out other stops on the blog tour.