Since the day Filomena Fontana cast a curse upon her sister more than two hundred years ago, not one second-born Fontana daughter has found lasting love. Some, like second-born Emilia, the happily-single baker at her grandfather’s Brooklyn deli, claim it’s an odd coincidence. Others, like her sexy, desperate-for-love cousin Lucy, insist it’s a true hex. But both are bewildered when their great-aunt calls with an astounding proposition: If they accompany her to her homeland of Italy, Aunt Poppy vows she’ll meet the love of her life on the steps of the Ravello Cathedral on her eightieth birthday, and break the Fontana Second-Daughter Curse once and for all.

Against the backdrop of wandering Venetian canals, rolling Tuscan fields, and enchanting Amalfi Coast villages, romance blooms, destinies are found, and family secrets are unearthed—secrets that could threaten the family far more than a centuries-old curse.

Get an early look from the first pages of The Star-Crossed Sisters of Tuscany.

One of my favorite ways to travel is through a book, and during these odd pandemic times, this has been more of a comfort than ever before. I curled up with The Star-Crossed Sisters of Tuscany on a sunny afternoon, and polished it off in one gloriously indulgent sitting. Many hours later, in the midst of squabbling children and Legos strewn about the floors, I found myself still sighing over Emilia’s sun-kissed journey to Tuscany and the family secrets that she unearths.

The second daughters of the Fontana family are afflicted with a curse to never find love—in order to break it, Emilia embarks on a quest with her great aunt Poppy and cousin Lucy to fulfill an old promise. Their path forward requires that they deal with the complexities of family, betrayals, and the tensions that they have long endured. Yet the lies and darkness of the human heart are met with grace and forgiveness, which gives The Star-Crossed Sisters of Tuscany a tender edge.

Long after I closed the book, Emilia’s warm and heartfelt travels lingered with me, not only as a dream of the canals of Venice (which I now promise myself I will one day visit!), but as a journey of love and redemption: a wisely humorous reminder of brighter days, hopefully for all of us to come.