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He's here to oversee the renovation of Villa Cristina, the most exclusive of the Denaro residences. And Elena Marcante, who's on the island to visit her ailing grandmother, certainly doesn't expect to run in Come to the beautiful Italian island of Sorellina - where the magic will never let you go And Elena Marcante, who's on the island to visit her ailing grandmother, certainly doesn't expect to run into the man who left her twenty years ago without a word of goodbye.
But Cristina the cat has other ideas. Once the most noble Princess Cristina Denaro, she was cursed by her jealous lover, Bernardo Marcante, to live as a humble cat until a Denaro and a Marcante declare undying love. But after five hundred years and with the family feud still running deep, Cristina is desperate, while Bernardo's spirit lurks in the ruins of the old temple wracked with remorse for what he did to her. Dario and Elena are no longer a pair of love-struck teens, but will they remember that magical summer they spent together?
With hope of ever breaking the curse fading and with a few family secrets revealed along the way, Cristina is determined the medieval cathedral bells will finally ring out for the union of a Denaro and a Marcante. Kindle Edition , pages.
The Island Of Sorellina 1. To see what your friends thought of this book, please sign up. To ask other readers questions about The Cursed Princess , please sign up. Lists with This Book. Jun 19, C. Truxler rated it really liked it Shelves: If, like many romance novels, this were a simple boy meets girl, boy falls for girl, couple has troubles, and boy wins girl, it would be nothing new under the dusty moon; but this tale is so much more.
A simple pair of star-crossed lovers this is not. The plot is a mix of romance, mystery, drama, supernatural, and fantasy, which pulls readers in and has each on The Cursed Princess An Island of Sorellina Romance by Alexandra Marell has a bit of everything to keep readers pleasantly enthralled. The plot is a mix of romance, mystery, drama, supernatural, and fantasy, which pulls readers in and has each on pins and needles by the climaxes. Yes, there is more than one!
It would have been easy for Marell to stick to the tried and true recipe that has worked for ages, and even easier to mess up the complex plot she chose to work with; but like a vacation postcard shot-- the tale is picture perfect. The characters are rich and vivid with every indication of reality. Although, thankfully, nowhere near enough to impede the story line.
The setting, which is emotionally embedded in each character, is one that some will find exotic, and others a touch of home; but one thing is for sure, each will find the scenery both landscape and being warm and rich with old-world charm and touch of modern day sensibilities. Readers with excess time will probably not put this novel down. But for those who have little time, and a large thirst for reading-- have no fear. This story will stick with you until you come back to it like a warm and welcoming friend and love.
Jan 11, Donna Zink rated it really liked it Shelves: I have always enjoyed a story with humor mixed with the serious business of romance and those ingredients are definitely provided. A fast read that should keep you entertained. Action takes place on the Island of Sorellina where a curse has ruled for centuries.
Princess Cristina has wandered the island as a cat for the last years and her only hope of breaking the curse is to maneuver a member from each of the two feuding families to fall in love and marry. She had believed that had been accomplished twenty ago with Elena Marcante and Dario Denaro to only have her hopes once again crushed. But Elena and Dario are back on the island and Cristina is going to get another shot at kindling the love between them, a love they had shared as teens. For me this novel was an enjoyable read. Marell does a very good job of making them believable.
Dario was hard for me to warm up to. I was hoping Elena would find happiness this time around but a more than a little mad at Dario for being more of the rich business man than the romantic lover that would toss money aside for the love of his life. The story also manages to capture the insecurity and indecision we carry with us into adulthood. Since the island is populated with a variety of supernatural beings besides Cristina there are sure to be future challenges and laughs. Recommend for anyone 15 and older as there are no graphic love scenes or over the top cursing.
Oct 01, Judy rated it it was amazing. Twenty years ago he made a choice between love and money. He chose the money and is still choosing it. Everything he does focuses around business, including tearing apart the family estate in Sorellina to make it more comfortable for the rich and famous. Elena Marcante has returned to the island from her home in England.
Nonna Renata is on her deathbed, again. It falls to Elena to come to Italy and help her grandmother, who really does seem to be ill this time. What she doesn't expect is to see any ghosts from the past. Villa Cristina is named after the Princess Christina di Denaro. A young woman who had everything and if she didn't have, she could get it. Due to a miscalculation her true love, Bernardo Marcante, curses her to live as a cat. Five hundred years later Cristina is still trying to break the dreaded Denaro Marcante curse and be reunited with her Bernardo.
All they need is to get one of their stubborn descendants from each side to fall in love. A true, lasting love.
An excellent romance with a touch of paranormal. A feud between two families who have homes within site of each other. So close and yet so far apart from the curse, money, a feud and a whole pack of stubbornness. But there is one determined cat to bring everyone together, and she'll dig her claws in to get it done. The second book in this series is Siren Sweetly Singing with a release date sometime in early , looking forward to that story as well. Jun 22, Donna rated it really liked it. Because of a misunderstanding he cursed her to be a cat. From then on the two families would be enemies.
The only way to break the curse is to bring the two families together. They need a couple to fall in love. Of course this has not happened in years because of the feud. Watching a beautiful white cat try to manipulate the characters into admitting they are in love so she can be human again and be with the man she loves. The only one th years ago a princess fell in love with a soldier.
The only one that knows is an elderly woman who talks to the cat. So there are some funny moments. I even laughed out loud a couple of times. I recommend this book to anyone. Even YA can read this one I won't tell you how it ended but I am sure you can guess She had only to find the key. For one horrible moment a gut-wrenching panic gripped her heart. How could she live like this? What would she do? And then she heaved in three quick breaths and lifted her chin. Furry she may be, but she was still the Most Noble Princess Cristina and she must never forget that.
So he believed a Denaro could never love a Marcante? Well he could think again. She lifted her chin, a stubborn gesture her old nurse knew all too well. The Princess Cristina would not let so trivial a thing as being turned into a cat stop her from breaking this curse. Is that the key my love? Could Bernardo hear her? Did he know she was still inside this furry shell?
Lifting a paw, she touched his arm and watched it go right through his shimmering form. He should have passed over by now. Was the curse keeping him here, earthbound?
Was there still hope? A wave of irritation ruffled her fur. Always jumping to the wrong conclusions. I will not allow it. I will break this curse and prove my love for you if it takes three millennia. Bernardo continued to gaze out over the moonlit sea. Another Denaro must love another Marcante. Not an easy task given the divide in their stations. Not every day a Princess fell in love with a soldier or a person of lower rank. It would happen again, she would see to that. And then she and her Bernardo would be together for all time. In this world or the next, she had no clue.
Break the curse and then she would know where they were to spend eternity. She slipped from the rock and onto the goat path. No brothers or sisters of her own, but a large Denaro contingent had gathered from all over the island and beyond for her wedding to the Count. She had only to help forge a union, one with the other and she and Bernardo would be together. Someone new was living in her house. After years of sadness and neglect, life was returning to the former royal palace.
On quivering legs, Cristina, once a noble princess and now a humble garden cat, crept forward for a better view.
The vintage Maserati, out of the garage and parked under the vine smothered pergola. A thread of smoke, spiralling from the centre of a neatly-raked heap of garden clippings. A pair of tan boots discarded on the marble terrace. And behind the heavy lace curtains of the stone-mullioned windows, the silhouette of a man pacing back and forth, a phone clamped to his ear. Cristina heard the unmistakeable note of command in the voice that broke the quiet of the afternoon.
How many months had it been since Nonno Giuseppe, the old family patriarch died? Sniffing the air, she caught the spicy scent of the local sausage so beloved of the tourists who flooded the island in high summer. The smell of freshly-brewed coffee and the local bread mingled with the faint tang of expensive aftershave and new leather. A tingle of excitement rippled her fur.
He would be in his late thirties by now, which meant that one woman, or even several may have already ensnared him. Monied men rarely wanted for partners willing to share their fortunes. Please let him be unattached and in want of love. Or at least in between wives, she prayed. And please let him remember his first love.
A picture of Elena Marcante bumping up the mountain road in her hired Fiat Cinquecento, windows down, copper curls whipped to a mad tangle by the breeze, popped into her mind. The timing was perfect, but the practicalities? Where love was concerned, nothing was impossible. And, after five hundred years of failed matchmaking, in her efforts to reset time, she had to admit to being more than a little desperate. All that stood in her way was a feud that ran blood-deep. Two families divided by tragedy and hate.
And a gaping, open wound that refused to heal. Okay, so no one said it would be easy. Her Most Royal Highness, the Princess Cristina of the Noble House of Denaro straightened her spine and reminded herself that once nothing had been beyond her grasp. She had only to think it and it was hers. Men had killed for a smile from her beautiful lips. Defied their elders, betrayed their families. A man whose passion had made her melt with desire. He might at least have turned me into a black cat , she thought licking irritably at a spot on her usually-pristine white paws.
How like a man not to appreciate the difficulty of keeping clean when forced to walk about on all fours. How like Bernardo to think with his heart rather than his head. Her vanity, his pride. A princess and a common soldier. Not exactly a match blessed by the gods. But, after five hundred years, they had both come to realise it was a love worth fighting for.
Mr Jet-set Lifestyle and Miss Unconventional. While the man continued to bark orders into his phone, she broke cover and quickly climbed the steps to the veranda. Time to take a closer look at the man who might hold the key to her prison. Time to find out just how hard this was going to be. He should feel guilty for staying away so long. Dario Denaro paused to study the fading oil painting hanging in the formal dining room.
The eyes still seemed to follow him as he took inventory of the old family villa. The oldest of the family villas, he reminded himself. And one neglected for far too long. How had he missed the potential? And built on the ruins of a royal palace. Gina, his second wife had been a project in herself. The family jewels had never glittered brighter than when laid against her flawless skin, or when adorning her beautifully manicured hands. Dario pushed down the rising tide of irritation. When had his grandfather ever lowered that stern mask of his? The day he finally realised the family owned him and any hint of rebellion would see him cut off and by himself.
Then he would do as he damned well pleased. Now fully at the helm of Denaro Enterprises, with all its responsibility and wealth, he was just as trapped.
Just as obligated to do what was best for the business rather than for himself. The leg fracture was healing well, but the question of a limp still remained. He tried not to think about the crash that had put him out of action for half the year and taken the life of one of his best friends. Move on and look to the future.
With his grandfather dead and his latest marriage over, it was time to take stock and see where his thirty-nine years had taken him. Nonno Giuseppe would be moved to the study. He made a note on his tablet. Replace the portrait with one of the Hoppers or a Picasso or two.
The New York apartment had proved a successful testing ground for the idea of wining and dining a client for the weekend while they perused the jewellery pieces and made their choice. Perfect for the actors and rock stars only too happy to parade their new bling for the tabloids. Similar plans were afoot for the English country estate, where the old money would be more likely to pay with an oil painting than hard cash. And the Island of Sorellina would be perfect for those for whom absolute discretion was their first priority.
Dario lifted the faded lace curtain to study the terrace with its view of the sea and the barely-visible Italian mainland, shimmering in the morning mist. Only a short hop by launch. The private jetty below the villa and the gravelled road connecting it to the former royal palace would need updating. He made more notes. That always looked good in a sales pitch.
A prince or two to go with that would have been even better, but the family had lost their titles in the seventeenth century in some dodgy deal with the Kingdom of Naples and never regained them. The gardens, still tended by the same ancient gardener, who together with his son and a pair of hunting rifles doubled as site security, were a jungle.
The marble terrace cracked with age. He let the curtain drop. Not even you would disapprove of what I have planned. Dario turned to the sound of the voice. Mariella moved to stand beside him, arms folded. He did not like change. Your nonno felt closer to his past, here.
Why he chose to die here. Goodness, that takes me back to my youth. Your breakfast is in the kitchen and the coffee made. Just remember your nonno will be watching your every move. She touched him lightly on the arm. Though he did not show it, your nonno grieved for the chasm that opened between you. But unlike your dear papa, bless his soul, you were given a second chance.
Please be gentle with this old house. Take care to leave its memories intact. There are ghosts here that must not be disturbed. Still the same old Mariella. Dario schooled his features with difficulty as the old housekeeper shrugged into her black cardigan. She would cross herself on the step, as she always did. Kiss her fingers and touch them to the ancient stone gatepost on her way out.
Bless the bedrooms every time she cleaned them. With Mariella around, what ghost would dare show its face? Okay, a more discrete painting for the dining room. Use that as a starting point and fly in Genevieve and the design team to make it all happen. Or even do it himself? Take some time out to heal and to think.
To make a long overdue visit to the gold and obsidian mines and see for himself why Mauro, the Sorellina mine manager, had seen fit to call him at three in the morning with reports of an exclusive new find that was set to rival tanzanite in rarity. Not even she could hold a grudge for that long. She would not sell to your nonno, she will not sell to you.
I will be back tomorrow. As usual, she flapped him away with an irritable swish of her hand. You owe me nothing. She treated him to one of her long-suffering sighs before turning for the front doors. It will tell you what it wants. It will tell you what you want, too. That she loved him like a son was beyond doubt. She just had a strange way of showing it.
Before giving himself time to change his mind, he took out his phone and dialled the Rome office. Denaro Enterprises could run itself for a while. Let the villa speak to him. Give his leg time to heal. And find a way to charm Signora Renata Marcante into selling the bungalow and the small plot of land that straddled most of the access to Villa Cristina. In other words, find a way to change five hundred years of family history.
Breakfast on the terrace and then climb the old goat path to gather some of the wild poppies for Signora Marcante. A whirlwind of white fur nearly knocked him off his feet, lunging into the space between his legs and the doorframe then hurtling down the corridor towards the open double doors. Before he could gather his wits, the cat flew down the veranda steps and disappeared into the bushes, his breakfast clamped firmly between its teeth.
Elena Marcante smoothed out the linen sheet covering her sleeping grandmother and wondered if this time it might be for real. More than once the family had made the mad dash from England to the Island of Sorellina, expecting the worse only to find the old matriarch sitting on the porch, humming a tune, miraculously recovered. This time, Elena had been delegated to visit and determine the extent of the emergency.
She found Nonna asleep in bed, a shawl about her shoulders, a white cat tucked into the curve of her hip. It makes life easier, her grandmother would say, with a knowing smile. Cristina gave a small mew of acknowledgement and set about cleaning her paws. What had Nonna been up to?
The marble-topped nightstand was heaped with papers and letters, some with waxed seals, others with writing too faded by time to read. Atop the pile, a newer document dated the previous month. Proposed acquisition of Casa Marcante by Denaro Enterprises. Elena read the title with growing irritation. Little wonder Nonna had taken to her bed. Not while Nonna Renata still breathed. Denaro Enterprises could wait the few years she had left and negotiate with the next generation who had more reason to put money over tradition.
Elena crept from the room to make herself a much needed coffee, a to-do list already forming in her mind. Better to drop into town to see Genaro personally and while there, call on Dottore Vincenzo to find out how ill Nonna really was. The store-cupboard in the lean-to kitchen was uncharacteristically bare. Two cans of tuna and an open pack of pasta, salt, and a dish of dried basil leaves. No rows of preserves and bottled tomatoes. No strings of onion and garlic hanging in plaits from the ceiling hooks.
She added a shopping trip to the list, ignoring for now, the inevitable argument it would cause. Nonna would be mortified at the thought of a guest having to provide for themselves. Elena rubbed her temples, massaging the pressure points in a bid to ease the tension.