I hope you have enjoyed Days of Lead, at least as much as I enjoyed writing it.
In addition to the usual reminders that all the characters are fictional and any resemblance to real persons is coincidental, I must point out that Days of Lead is not an historical novel. It is the fruit of my own imagination and my experiences growing up as a young translator in Rome.
About that time, Italy was rocked by extremist violence from both the right and the left, not to mention anarchists who hated both sides. By the 1970’s, these bloody years had acquired the moniker anni di piombo, Years of Lead, which inspired the title of this book. I have deliberately set the time of the story at a different point.
After I wrote the first draft, the Piano Solo papers were declassified. I was shocked to discover that my inspiration based only on rumors in the press and recollections of my teenage years had caused me to mirror many aspects of the real coup attempt in my story. I went back and changed characters and times drastically, lest you be misled into thinking that I was reporting on actual events.
Unlike Nancy, my mother was far from being a well-off executive in a multinational company, but she did make it possible for me to attend Notre Dame International School during the time in the book.
And, yes, I did buy myself a Vespa 50, after riding my bicycle in all kinds of weather for seven years.
=========== So what’s next?
I am already working on the second book of the series, as well as the sequel to Emily & Hilda, which ran in this blog during 2018.
I write this blog for your enjoyment more than anything. The two serial novels seem to have been a hit, but I need your input about where to take this blog.
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The No. 8 trolley clanged its bell as it stopped outside. Something was different. Joe’s room on the Monte Mario was at the back of the building, where he could not hear the street. He opened his eyes, suddenly aware of and delighted by Sandra’s smooth skin neatly fitting into every bend in his own body. The sun was not yet up, but the pre-dawn light leaked through the slats of the shutters. 
