Mystery
![Lorenzo Carcaterra - [object Object] author](https://res.cloudinary.com/readsomnia/image/upload/authors/a_B000APX7XM.jpg)
Nonna Maria and the Case of the Missing Bride: A Novel
When a crime on a beautiful Italian island stumps the police, locals turn to the trusted elderly widow Nonna Maria in this transporting mystery from #1 New York Times bestselling author Lorenzo Carcaterra, "one of the all-time greats" (Jeffery Deaver).
"An utterly delightful tale starring one of the most charming amateur sleuths ever created."-Tess Gerritsen, New York Times bestselling author of Listen to Me
Nonna Maria has lived on Ischia, an island in the Gulf of Naples, her entire life. Recognizable by the widow's black she's worn every day for decades, she always has pasta on the stove and espresso in the pot for the neighbors who stop by to ask her advice on life and love. Everyone knows her, and she knows everyone's business. So if something goes wrong, islanders look to her, not the local carabinieri, to find the solution.
When a recently engaged woman confesses that she's afraid her fiancé, a stranger to Ischia with a murky past, might not be who he seems, Nonna Maria helps her disappear so she can investigate the true nature of her betrothed. The stranger has also raised the suspicions of Captain Murino of the carabinieri, but he's occupied investigating the death of a tour boat captain who drowned in the wee hours of the morning. Captain Murino believes it was an accident, but Nonna Maria knows the man was a born sailor and too good a swimmer to drown, no matter how much wine he might have drunk. While Captain Murino has his hands full, she pours herself a glass of white wine and gets to work, even though getting involved will expose her to the dangers lurking just beneath the surface of her idyllic home.
"An utterly delightful tale starring one of the most charming amateur sleuths ever created."-Tess Gerritsen, New York Times bestselling author of Listen to Me
Nonna Maria has lived on Ischia, an island in the Gulf of Naples, her entire life. Recognizable by the widow's black she's worn every day for decades, she always has pasta on the stove and espresso in the pot for the neighbors who stop by to ask her advice on life and love. Everyone knows her, and she knows everyone's business. So if something goes wrong, islanders look to her, not the local carabinieri, to find the solution.
When a recently engaged woman confesses that she's afraid her fiancé, a stranger to Ischia with a murky past, might not be who he seems, Nonna Maria helps her disappear so she can investigate the true nature of her betrothed. The stranger has also raised the suspicions of Captain Murino of the carabinieri, but he's occupied investigating the death of a tour boat captain who drowned in the wee hours of the morning. Captain Murino believes it was an accident, but Nonna Maria knows the man was a born sailor and too good a swimmer to drown, no matter how much wine he might have drunk. While Captain Murino has his hands full, she pours herself a glass of white wine and gets to work, even though getting involved will expose her to the dangers lurking just beneath the surface of her idyllic home.
Editorial Reviews
"An utterly delightful tale starring one of the most charming amateur sleuths ever created, Nonna Maria and the Case of the Missing Bride is so delicious it will make you want to pack your bags and move to Italy!"-Tess Gerritsen, New York Times bestselling author of Listen to Me
"The brilliant Lorenzo Carcaterra has created his own irresistible genre: the literary cozy. I fell in love with this wonderfully lyrical and completely entertaining novel, and most of all its instantly iconic heroine. Nonna Maria is Miss Marple and Sherlock Holmes combined into one wise and unforgettable character. Touching, charming, and delightful-do not miss this!"-USA Today bestselling author Hank Phillippi Ryan
"Lorenzo Carcaterra has written a suspenseful tale while bringing the history, traditions, and colorful characters of the island of Ischia to life. The indomitable Nonna Maria shines throughout. Bravo!"-Camilla Trinchieri, author of the Doyle/Perillo Tuscan mystery series
"Nostalgia for Ischia's simpler way of life, nearly lost in the face of the fast-paced modern world, combines successfully with a suspenseful plot and a feisty heroine who's as kind as she is steely."-Booklist
Praise for Lorenzo Carcaterra
"One of the all-time greats."-Jeffery Deaver, #1 internationally bestselling author of the Lincoln Rhyme series
"One of my favorite writers in the world."-Lisa Scottoline, New York Times bestselling author of Someone Knows
"A writer who has earned his spot at the top echelon of suspense masters . . . Lorenzo Carcaterra is simply the best."-Steve Berry, New York Times bestselling author of the Cotton Malone series
"The brilliant Lorenzo Carcaterra has created his own irresistible genre: the literary cozy. I fell in love with this wonderfully lyrical and completely entertaining novel, and most of all its instantly iconic heroine. Nonna Maria is Miss Marple and Sherlock Holmes combined into one wise and unforgettable character. Touching, charming, and delightful-do not miss this!"-USA Today bestselling author Hank Phillippi Ryan
"Lorenzo Carcaterra has written a suspenseful tale while bringing the history, traditions, and colorful characters of the island of Ischia to life. The indomitable Nonna Maria shines throughout. Bravo!"-Camilla Trinchieri, author of the Doyle/Perillo Tuscan mystery series
"Nostalgia for Ischia's simpler way of life, nearly lost in the face of the fast-paced modern world, combines successfully with a suspenseful plot and a feisty heroine who's as kind as she is steely."-Booklist
Praise for Lorenzo Carcaterra
"One of the all-time greats."-Jeffery Deaver, #1 internationally bestselling author of the Lincoln Rhyme series
"One of my favorite writers in the world."-Lisa Scottoline, New York Times bestselling author of Someone Knows
"A writer who has earned his spot at the top echelon of suspense masters . . . Lorenzo Carcaterra is simply the best."-Steve Berry, New York Times bestselling author of the Cotton Malone series
Short Excerpt Teaser
1
Nonna Maria poured herself a hot cup of espresso, her third of the morning, and gazed out the small kitchen window of her two-story white stone home. She then picked up a folded hand towel and brought the espresso pot into the dining room and rested it on a round silver tray. She pulled back a thick wooden chair and sat down. She rested her hands on the table and glanced at the young woman sitting across from her. There was an empty cup resting next to the woman's right arm.
"I'm sorry to have come this early," the woman said. She couldn't have been much older than nineteen, her low voice still cradling the path between teenager and adult. "I should have called first."
"I don't have a phone," Nonna Maria said. "And it's never too early or too late to come see me. The coffee's still hot and a warm cup will do you good."
The woman glanced at the coffeepot and shook her head. "I wouldn't mind a glass of water," she said. "If it's not too much of a bother."
"Water's only good for plants," Nonna Maria said. "Have some coffee instead; it will help you relax and make it easier for you to tell me why you came to see me."
Nonna Maria lifted the espresso pot and waited as the woman slid her empty cup closer to her. She filled the cup and then passed the sugar bowl across the table. "It's better with sugar," she said. "Two teaspoons are what most people prefer. I like three, myself. My nephew has asked me many times to cut back. But, then, he's a doctor, and part of his job is to tell me to cut back on what I like to eat and drink."
The woman smiled for the first time since she entered Nonna Maria's house. It was the last house in a row of four similar houses in a small piazza facing a white rock wall, with pockets of black stains on the base, the result of too many years enduring too many rainstorms. The house was less than half a block from the local beach, a beach Nonna Maria had never once visited.
The woman took a sip of the coffee, rested her cup on the table, and then settled back in her chair. She looked like many of the local girls of the island. Her hair was dark and thick, running along the sides of her face; occasionally a few loose strands would rest next to one of her cheeks and she would flick them back with a quick flip of her head. Her eyes were dark as coal and her skin was brown from many summers spent under a hot sun.
"I'm so afraid, Nonna Maria," she said in a quivering voice. "I've put myself in a horrible position and don't know how to get out of it, not without causing my parents, my family, great expense and even greater embarrassment."
"Does it have anything to do with your upcoming wedding?" Nonna Maria asked. She sat with her gnarled hands flat on the wood table, her dark eyes taking in the young woman sitting across from her. "And the man you've chosen to marry?"
The woman stared at Nonna Maria for several seconds and then nodded. "It's true what they say about you," the woman said, meekly attempting a smile. "You do know everything that happens on this island."
Nonna Maria shook her head and gave her a half smile. "I don't know everything," she said. "I only know what I hear. And on an island filled with people who love to talk, especially about matters that don't concern them, I hear quite a bit."
Nonna Maria stood and walked toward the front door, a slight limp causing her to favor her right leg. She was wearing the widow's black, a heavy full-length skirt and a long-sleeved blouse; her thick white hair was done up in a bun, curled and pinned to the top of her head with an array of black pins. "Come," she said to the young woman, "and walk with me up to Via Roma. I want to visit one of my daughters. She had minor surgery the other day and my nephew-the doctor I spoke about earlier-wants to make sure she gets enough to eat, and he assigned the task to me. And while we walk, you can tell me why you don't want to marry this man, Andrea Bartoli."
The woman pushed back her chair, stood, and walked toward Nonna Maria. "You even know his name," she said, not bothering to hide her surprise.
"As I told you," Nonna Maria said, "I hear many things without the need to ask many questions. All that's needed is for me to listen."
"And what is it they say about me and the man I'm supposed to marry?" the young woman asked.
"They say, Anna," Nonna Maria said, referring to the young woman by her name for the first time, "that you're marrying not out of love but out of fear, for yourself and for your family."
"And do you believe what they say?"
"Idle talk is just that, talk," Nonna Maria said. "I'll believe it when you tell me it's more than that."
"And if it is?" Anna asked....
Nonna Maria poured herself a hot cup of espresso, her third of the morning, and gazed out the small kitchen window of her two-story white stone home. She then picked up a folded hand towel and brought the espresso pot into the dining room and rested it on a round silver tray. She pulled back a thick wooden chair and sat down. She rested her hands on the table and glanced at the young woman sitting across from her. There was an empty cup resting next to the woman's right arm.
"I'm sorry to have come this early," the woman said. She couldn't have been much older than nineteen, her low voice still cradling the path between teenager and adult. "I should have called first."
"I don't have a phone," Nonna Maria said. "And it's never too early or too late to come see me. The coffee's still hot and a warm cup will do you good."
The woman glanced at the coffeepot and shook her head. "I wouldn't mind a glass of water," she said. "If it's not too much of a bother."
"Water's only good for plants," Nonna Maria said. "Have some coffee instead; it will help you relax and make it easier for you to tell me why you came to see me."
Nonna Maria lifted the espresso pot and waited as the woman slid her empty cup closer to her. She filled the cup and then passed the sugar bowl across the table. "It's better with sugar," she said. "Two teaspoons are what most people prefer. I like three, myself. My nephew has asked me many times to cut back. But, then, he's a doctor, and part of his job is to tell me to cut back on what I like to eat and drink."
The woman smiled for the first time since she entered Nonna Maria's house. It was the last house in a row of four similar houses in a small piazza facing a white rock wall, with pockets of black stains on the base, the result of too many years enduring too many rainstorms. The house was less than half a block from the local beach, a beach Nonna Maria had never once visited.
The woman took a sip of the coffee, rested her cup on the table, and then settled back in her chair. She looked like many of the local girls of the island. Her hair was dark and thick, running along the sides of her face; occasionally a few loose strands would rest next to one of her cheeks and she would flick them back with a quick flip of her head. Her eyes were dark as coal and her skin was brown from many summers spent under a hot sun.
"I'm so afraid, Nonna Maria," she said in a quivering voice. "I've put myself in a horrible position and don't know how to get out of it, not without causing my parents, my family, great expense and even greater embarrassment."
"Does it have anything to do with your upcoming wedding?" Nonna Maria asked. She sat with her gnarled hands flat on the wood table, her dark eyes taking in the young woman sitting across from her. "And the man you've chosen to marry?"
The woman stared at Nonna Maria for several seconds and then nodded. "It's true what they say about you," the woman said, meekly attempting a smile. "You do know everything that happens on this island."
Nonna Maria shook her head and gave her a half smile. "I don't know everything," she said. "I only know what I hear. And on an island filled with people who love to talk, especially about matters that don't concern them, I hear quite a bit."
Nonna Maria stood and walked toward the front door, a slight limp causing her to favor her right leg. She was wearing the widow's black, a heavy full-length skirt and a long-sleeved blouse; her thick white hair was done up in a bun, curled and pinned to the top of her head with an array of black pins. "Come," she said to the young woman, "and walk with me up to Via Roma. I want to visit one of my daughters. She had minor surgery the other day and my nephew-the doctor I spoke about earlier-wants to make sure she gets enough to eat, and he assigned the task to me. And while we walk, you can tell me why you don't want to marry this man, Andrea Bartoli."
The woman pushed back her chair, stood, and walked toward Nonna Maria. "You even know his name," she said, not bothering to hide her surprise.
"As I told you," Nonna Maria said, "I hear many things without the need to ask many questions. All that's needed is for me to listen."
"And what is it they say about me and the man I'm supposed to marry?" the young woman asked.
"They say, Anna," Nonna Maria said, referring to the young woman by her name for the first time, "that you're marrying not out of love but out of fear, for yourself and for your family."
"And do you believe what they say?"
"Idle talk is just that, talk," Nonna Maria said. "I'll believe it when you tell me it's more than that."
"And if it is?" Anna asked....
