The Historical Novel, Fiery Falls, is set from 1901 to 1918. The title reflects seventeen-year-old Donna’s middle class family’s experience during a volatile period in American history. Donna wants to be an artist, but her controlling father, Michael, insists that she become a concert violinist. He tells her that marriage will not fit in with her career. Is he correct?
A pompous self-centered man, Michael dreams that he will live in Donna’s reflected glory. Love-starved Donna dreams of finding a man like Robert Browning who will rescue her. Will their dreams turn into a nightmare for them and for the family?
An Awe-Struck ReleaseComing Soon...
After attending the Academy of Arts in Newark, New Jersey, and the Art Students League of New York in New York City, I had a one-woman exhibition at the Perdalma Art Gallery on 57th Street in New York City.
As an Electro-Mechanical Designer, I helped design the Comsat (a communications satellite), the flight control systems for the Concord, the 747, and the DC10.
I studied classical guitar with the internationally renowned classical guitarist, Rolando Valdes-Blain. However, over-practicing ruined my left hand. To strengthen my hand, I switched to the theater organ and then to the piano. Unfortunately, they didn't help me enough to allow me to resume playing the guitar.
After I married Lou, he convinced me to attend William Paterson University to study writing. While there, I achieved the distinction of outstanding senior in the Humanities Honors Program.
I owe my interest in writing to my father, who told the best slice of life stories at almost every dinner meal. My short story "Tunnel Vision" earned First Prize in the Emily Greenaway Creative Writing Award (1989). In 1991, my short story "Wolves" earned their Honorable Mention. My short stories have appeared in Essence Magazine, Footwork (a Paterson Literary Review), and Avanti, (an Italian-American publication).
Although our two amber cats, Daily and Farkle, find my writing inconvenient (especially at meal times), I am happy that Lou is very supportive. I am also delighted that he (unlike the cats) does not walk all over my keyboard while I'm working. It could be distracting.
Mary invites you to her wevsite at -- http://www.marycanconetani.com
"Spanning the turn of the century thru World War I this epic tale encompasses a complete era with Donna and her family and friends. We learn a lot through Donna and her lessons of life as she takes us with her. This includes the loss of innocence, passion, tragedy, heartbreak and love. At this time, life for women was better but they are still second class citizens and treated unfairly in the courts. Historically, we find out a lot about returning soldiers and their traumatic medical problems and their treatments; also we learn what choices women have about pregnancy, abortion, prostitution and even adoption for unwed mothers. This sequel to Fiery Fields is a successful stand alone and is very intense yet written so that we are immediately immersed in this era."Lainey -- Coffee Time Romance
"Mary C. Anconetani has released her newest novel Fiery Falls, the highly anticipated sequel to her acclaimed Fiery Fields..the author has created an epic tale. An excellent read."Italian Tribune
"I became so engrossed with the characters and plot of FIERY FALLS that I couldnít put it down. I am awaiting another novel from this very talented author."Louisa Potenzas -- program Italia Mia, 1370WALKAM Long Island NY
She kicked off her slippers, stretched out her legs to warm them by the heat of the fireplace, and breathed a deep sigh.
Frank filled the cordial glasses with the anisette a tad too high, but neither of them noticed. As he filled them, he sniffed the aroma of the freshly brewed coffee and smiled. "That's one of my favorite aromas."
"Mine too." She allowed the coffee to warm her insides.
"I like what the Italians say about coffee," Frank said. "Il caffe' deve essera: caldo come l'inferno, nero come il diavolo, puro come un angelo, dulce come l'amore. Coffee should be as hot as hell, black as the devil, pure as an angel, and sweet as love."
The last time she heard it was when Raymond instructed her on the art of making coffee. Suddenly, Donna became aware that they were just making conversation to keep from saying what they were feeling. Unnerved, she got up to compose herself.
"Where are you going, young lady?"
"Only to put on another record." She flipped through her newly acquired collection, and picked the overture to Puccini's La Boheme, while Frank placed another log on the fire.
They sat side by side, sipped their coffee, and watched the flames leap like ballet dancers.
He took her chilled hand in his, but unlike Rudolpho, he didn't say or sing, "Your tiny hand is frozen."
A surge of electricity ran up her arm, and yet she didn't withdraw her hand from his. As the music played, she knew it was the wrong one to select, for it moved her more than she wanted.
Frank placed his arm around her shoulder.
Donna didn't move. She felt she should, and wanted to get up, at least her mind's voice said that she should, but her body's voice spoke louder to her.
When he took her in his arms, to her surprise, she didn't resist. If it were the aftershave, the alcohol, the music, the absence of love she longed for, or that he was going off to war that moved her, she didn't know. Whatever it was, she needed it, wanted it, and yielded to it. Stunned by the intensity of the sensation, she was neither ashamed nor distraught by her response.
Frank pressed his lips to hers. She moved closer. As his kisses became increasingly demanding, she felt a wild yearning that she had to obey.
The move was so graceful that when he lifted her off the couch, carried her to the bedroom, and placed her on the bed, she barely felt it. He fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. Seeing his torment, she helped him. While he continued to undress, she slipped off her housecoat and threw it aside. Then she removed her nightgown.
As the twilight sun's rays filtered through the diaphanous white curtains and caressed her supple body, he caught his breath. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," he whispered.
She reclined and waited for him to embrace her, but he just stared at her for what seemed forever.
At last, his hot lips kissed her mouth and sent a thrill throughout her. His lips followed the firm curve of her breasts. She arched to meet him. He didn't deny her. Donna almost screamed with pleasure and wished the rapture would never end. When it did, a sigh of satisfaction shook through them as if their souls had merged. Donna edged herself into his arms, and in silence, rested until they fell asleep.
They wakened and made love again. This time it was less frantic, but no less exciting for them.
* * *
Frank held Donna tight at the entrance door the following morning.
"Please let me go with you to say goodbye at the Cunard Lines pier."
"No. I can't bear to have you weep for me as the ship leaves port." He kissed her. "Let's not say goodbye, but arrivederci." He didn't want to tell her that he had designated her as his next of kin. He knew it would terrorize her and she would have objected strenuously.
She wept and clung to him, unable to speak, let alone say the words. "I love you."
He whispered, "I love you, Donna," kissed her again, pulled away, and strode to the elevator door.
It was after the elevator door closed that she heard Gloria's voice loud and clear, "You didn't wear protection!"
Donna almost panicked. Then she calmed down, for the only time she had become pregnant was the first time she and Raymond made love. With all the other episodes, nothing happened. She felt that she must be infertile.