Please join me in welcoming Bruno Noble to Novel Kicks and the blog tour for his book, The Colletta Cassettes.

Liguria, Italy. Summer 1978.

The Kentish family are on holiday in idyllic medieval village of Colletta. Sixteen-year-old Sebastian is smitten with Rosetta, the hotel cleaner and waitress, much to his snobbish mother’s dismay, while his younger brother and their fellow hotel guests are obsessed by the World Cup, hosted by the murderous military junta in Argentina.

The boys’ father, Peter Kentish, has very different motivations for the trip. An investigative journalist, he spends much of his time interviewing a mysterious American, a disillusioned ex-CIA agent.

As Kentish uncovers the shocking extent of Operation Gladio, he delves into some of Italy’s darkest secrets. Darker still is the involvement of the USA. Those complicit will do anything to ensure that the truth is buried. For good.

There’s a chance to win a stack of 5 Inkspot books below but first, Bruno has shared an extract from The Colletta Cassettes. We hope you enjoy. 

*****beginning of extract*****

Sebastian, aged 16, is on holiday in Liguria, Italy with his parents and his brother in 1978. He is intensely attracted by Rosetta, who works at the hotel as a waitress and chambermaid, much to his mother’s disapproval.

*****

Sebastian heard the door open and there stood Rosetta, with a broom and her mop and her basket again.  Against the light, she resembled an Amazon, clutching spears and a shield.

‘Hello,’ he said, resisting the impulse to stand, recalling his mother’s instruction that one stands for a lady but not for a servant.

‘I’ve come to clean,’ she said.

She wore cut-off denim shorts and a blue and white striped man’s shirt rolled up at the arms and tied around her waist.

‘You’re holding it upside down,’ said Rosetta, indicating his book with a nod.

Furiously embarrassed, Sebastian turned the book the other way only to find that he’d been holding it the right way up to begin with.

‘Very funny,’ he said righting the book immediately, now just furious.

Rosetta laughed.  ‘So,’ she said and ran her tongue across her top lip, ‘your mother is an artist, your father is a writer and you’re a reader.’

‘What do you know about my father?’ asked Sebastian with interest.

Rosetta shrugged.  ‘I saw him yesterday. Everyone is by the pool and he’s there with his typewriter.  And you’re here with your book.’

That had been said rather contemptuously, Sebastian felt.  ‘And what do you do?  When you’re not – working?’  He’d intended to say ‘cleaning’ but he’d been afraid he’d sound like his mother.

She shrugged again.

‘Don’t you have any hobbies?’

‘I fight.’  That was said nonchalantly.

‘You fight?’  Sebastian couldn’t keep the note of astonishment from his voice.

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