Title: Relatives and Relationships
Author: Sharon Michalove
Genre: Story Collection (Romance and Mystery)
Book Blurb:
Stories about Halloween and Christmas. Stories that will take you to Chicago, Cleveland, Scottish Highlands, Venice, Florence, and Greece. Stories about family, love, and murder.
This collection of short stories includes:
It's Just a Guise
A Heartfelt Christmas
Gelato and Gondolas
Aegean Persuasion
Chasing Donatello
Leaving Cleveland
Excerpt from the story “Chasing Donatello”:
When the last bell sounds, my breath puffs out in a sigh of relief. End of term, grades submitted, and a month in Florence on the horizon. I can almost smell the mingled scents of leather, fish, wild boar, incense, truffles, and a whiff of sewage over the fumes of late afternoon London traffic.
Teaching the glories of Renaissance art to sixth formers, most of whom are only interested in the more salacious aspects, wears you down. The sniggering, whispering behind hands, and passing off of notes create small annoyances that lead to exhaustion.
But I’m out of London now. Relief washes over me as I watch my reflection waver in the mirror-like surface of a stainless steel pillar, one of many in the baggage claim at Amerigo Vespucci airport near Florence. Dark circles under my eyes. Damn hair everywhere. I’m rewinding it into the clip when I hear a snicker.
Graham Spencer-Ross. My art history colleague at Meryton Academy rolls his eyes.
The flight was a nightmare. First, the one daily flight was canceled. We couldn’t get a flight to Pisa or even Bologna. Dad, who had been against the trip, hooted like a loon when I finally managed to get home from Heathrow. Then he offered pizza or fish and chips as consolation.
Another trek to the airport. In order to get the flight on track, the airline decided to load less fuel. We ran into trouble and had to divert to Grenoble. A bus was laid on after a two-hour wait for the short drive to Lyon. No direct flights. No available train seats for two days. In the end we flew from Lyon to Paris and, after a four-hour layover, landed in Florence.
I swing round, eyes trained on his quirked lips. Graham, bent at the waist, hands pressed against his stomach, has morphed in a laughing fool. Lift a hand and mimic blowing a poisoned dart into Sir Smugness. Undeniably good looking and superficially charming, the rich playboy isn’t my type. Do I have a type? In any case, he’s not my flavor of the month.
He blows me a kiss.
I pretend to miss catching it.
He rocks back and forth on the heels of hand-tooled cowboy boots. A look that is incongruous with his Savile Row suit. Squints at the TAG Heuer on his wrist. His eyes dart around the space loud with the chatter of arriving passengers. Does he expect someone?
“Tell me again why you’ve crashed my plans.”
“Why wouldn’t I want a month in Italy, looking at art with the best teacher at the school?” He pastes on a winning smile.
“And my father’s here, visiting dealers. I thought you might find meeting him interesting.” He worries his upper lip with his teeth.
His father is a noted collector. Still… meet his father? Such an unlikely idea. Is he making a move? I’m so bad at interpreting people once they aren’t spotty teens any more.
I narrow my eyes and pinch my lips together. He looks past me, as if to speak to someone behind my left shoulder.
“Right now he’s chasing Donatello, and, well, I may have told him you were an expert.”
Chasing Donatello? Sounded more like a Ninja turtle film than a serious artistic exercise. “You told him what?”
“That you are a renowned expert.” Graham draws out every syllable. “Aren’t you? You’ve published about him.” Round, wide eyes gaze at me innocently.
“That doesn’t make me an expert, especially not a renowned one.”
Just then his phone buzzes. With a glance at the screen his mouth sets into impatience; his voice a furious hiss. “Thought you were meeting us at the airport.”
The mobile is on speaker and some sort of muffled roaring comes from the other end. Graham’s eyebrows lift and his jaw drops.
Out of the corner of my eye I see the luggage conveyor belt halt. No obnoxious yellow molded case. No ostentatious black leather trunk.
I punch Graham’s arm. Immediately alert, he glares at me.
I point toward the conveyor. “No bags.”
He jerks, slips the device into a jacket pocket, then starts at a run for the baggage claim desk. By the time I catch him up, he’s scowling into the face of the clerk, a nonstop flow of Italian spewing out.
He turns to me, then back to the unsmiling face behind the counter. More Italian. After what seems like hours, we fill out forms, take our copies and trail away.
The late hour, the long trip, and no food, makes my stomach growl. I shoulder my small carry-on.
“Let’s go.” His voice sounds like he swallowed gravel. “I’ll flag a taxi.”
On the way to the Bernini Palace Hotel, Graham slumps forward, head in his hands.
Alarm bells ring as his façade cracks. I try for a cheerful note. “What’s a few mishaps?”
No answer.
“Did you get hold of your dad?”
A minute shake of the head.
“Is your mum with him?”
“Divorced,” he blurts. “Since I was ten.”
Motherless children. Well, I am. My mother died when I was born. Maybe his mother is still around, but I know he lives with his father—even though he’s in his mid-thirties. Even though he has a job and could be independent. Then again, so do I.
I start to ask, then stop. His shuttered face repels questions.
He focuses on the semi clean floor of the cab. “My dad found one of the dealers he went to see dead in his shop. Murdered.”
“How does he know it was murder?”
Graham groans. “I don’t know. A knife protruding from his chest? A smoking gun? All I know is a man is dead, Dad found him, and he’s with the police.”
“Do we need to bail him out?”
He moans and I stare as his chest inflates and deflates.
“No. He hasn’t been arrested. In any case, there’s no bail system in Italy.”
Buy Links (including Goodreads and BookBub):
The ebook is on sale for $.99 from September 1-30
What’s your favorite thing about autumn:
Cooler weather, I hate the heat
What inspired you to write this story:
I attended a presentation on Donatello and found out that only his art survives. No drawings, contracts, letters, or other papers and the idea of someone possibly finding a cache of material made me wonder what would happen next.
Giveaway –
One lucky reader will win a $100 Amazon gift card.
Open internationally.
Runs September 1 – 30, 2024
Drawing will be held on October 1, 2024.
Author Biography:
Sharon Michalove writes romantic suspense and traditional mystery as well as being a published historian. She was married to a composer and frequently uses her knowledge of music, history, and food to enrich her novels. Moving back to Chicago in 2017, she started writing fiction seriously in 2018, publishing her first book in 2021. She is member of Sisters in Crime, Mystery Writers of America, and Chicago-North Romance Writers and currently is president of the Sisters in Crime Chicagoland Chapter. Her Global Security Unlimited series was a finalist for the 2024 Chanticleer International Book Award for Genre Series.
Social Media Links:
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