Is anything ever what you think it is?
17-year-old Annalise Haven-Bartolini (Lise to her friends), aspiring opera singer from Fresno, thought she was an only child. Until her famous father, Johnny Bartolini, died in a tragic accident.
When she attends his funeral in San Francisco, she gets a huge surprise. Yes, she knew he, um, got around. She knew why her mother divorced him. But still. Twenty half-siblings from three different women…and those were just the ones they know about.
There was her stepmother Ashleigh’s charming adopted son Ian, half pirate prince and half boy next door, a cheerful biker who knows things about Johnny that Lise didn’t know. He seems as interested in Lise as she is in him, when his twin sister invites her and her friend Kitten to stay at their home for a month. If only he weren’t her brother…or is he?
And there’s another, a mysterious and brooding figure straight out of a gothic novel, who is also interested in Lise…in a different way. Johnny’s oldest son Dino, or so she is told. Why does he single her out from all his other half-siblings? And what does he know about Johnny that she doesn’t?
Is anything what she thought it was?
Get it here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0GRNTXWR6?ref=sp_email
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Excerpt:
Chapter One:
I Survived an Italian Father
Up until two days before my dad’s funeral, I thought I was an only child.
I don’t know why it never occurred to me that I might have siblings all over the freakin’ country. I knew why my mom divorced him, after all.
He died in a tragic accident…okay, freak accident. Or a freaky accident, whatever. He was dancing on a girder on a building under construction, ten stories up. He often did stupid things like that when he’d knocked back a few. It’s a wonder he lived as long as he did. Still, I loved my dad, even though I knew what he was…or thought I did. He was also a singer, an actor in a few forgotten B movies, and a Hollywood producer. Johnny Bartolini. You’ve probably heard the name. Or if not, you have now. And tomorrow I’m meeting my half-siblings, whichever ones see fit to show up for his funeral.
“Lise, are you sure you want to go?” my mom asks me, as we’re kicked back in the den watching Gilmore Girls and snacking on cheese balls.
“Why wouldn’t I?” I say, absently picking up a ceramic Cupid from the end table. “I know it’s going to be a closed casket. I’m down with that.”
“That’s not the reason,” Mom sighs. “The thing is…didn’t you ever stop to wonder whether you might have brothers and sisters?”
“Of course I do. He has a wife in San Francisco, right? I know Ashleigh has kids. Daddy sent me pictures. She has three or four.”
“There are plenty more than three or four,” Mom says, brushing back a lock of strawberry-blonde hair, then going over to the liquor cabinet. Her perfume floats past her like a scarf. “At last count there were at least twenty. And those are just the ones we know about.”
I wait for her to laugh. She doesn’t.
“You mean to tell me…” I stand up, almost dropping the Cupid on the floor. Yes, I’m quite aware of the symbolism.
“And some of them are sure to show up for the funeral. So do you still want to go? Lise?”
I stagger across the room like the floor is tilting. Maybe it is. California earthquake in progress.
“You can’t do this to me!” I wail. “Twenty??”
“HE did it to you,” she responds with an undercurrent of bitterness like a shard of glass in pink lotion. “Filthy horndog. But of course it’s my own fault. I knew what he was when I married him. But stupid me thought I could change him. Why, in these enlightened times, do we women do these things to ourselves?”
Yellow Rose Publications 