My sister, Lia, rolled her blue eyes-so much like Mom’s-as if to say, Oh brother, here we go again. I could fall and break my leg, but it would take a fair amount of screaming for her to turn around and tune in. She never noticed much of anything in such situations. She followed our guide, tossing her Danish blonde braid over her shoulder, ignoring the brambles scratching at her lean, tanned legs. Here, too, she said, her blue eyes wide, pointing at another. But the hairs on the back of my neck prickled with echoed excitement. Not really expecting a response, she spoke more to herself-or was it Dad’s ghost she addressed?-than to us. See that? my mom cried, pushing the tree branch back farther, squatting beside a slightly sculpted limestone paver. " Ecco, vedi," he said, pointing at the ground. We paused on our hike, panting and wiping our upper lips as our guide-the old Italian farmer who owned this land-chopped down a small sapling, clearing the overgrown trail. But what do you do when your knight in shining armor lives, literally, in a different world? Read more Suddenly Gabi's summer in Italy is much, much more interesting. And worse yet, in the middle of a fierce battle between knights of two opposing forces.Īnd thus she comes to be rescued by the knight-prince Marcello Falassi, who takes her back to his father's castle-a castle Gabi has seen in ruins in another life. until Gabi places her hand atop a handprint in an ancient tomb and finds herself in fourteenth-century Italy. In Book One of the River of Time series, Gabi and Lia are stuck among the rubble of medieval castles in rural Tuscany on yet another hot, boring, and dusty archeological site. Most American teenagers want a vacation in Italy, but the Bentarrini sisters have spent every summer of their lives with their parents, famed Etruscan scholars, among the romantic hills. and leaving means forfeiting what she's come to know-and love itself. Remaining means giving up all she's known and loved. Gabriella has never spent a summer in Italy like this one.
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