The Italian Musician’s Sanctuary

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More about The Italian Musician's Sanctuary

Hunted by one man, can she open her heart to another?

Eden Cove, England, 1931—Margherita Vicienzo flees Italy pursued by her former fiancé, a member of Mussolini’s Blackshirt. Smuggled illegally into England, Margherita is a foreigner at the mercy of strangers. Her limp from an improperly healed broken leg means she has nothing to offer the Ferryman family, who offer her sanctuary, and nothing to appease their son who resents her presence.

Luke Ferryman needs a wife. He wants to marry for love, but carries the weight of his family’s generations-old expectations on his shoulders. Though he inherited the role of both baker and ferryman, he knows he can’t fulfill both needs once his aging grandparents retire. A wife would help, but not an illegal one like the refugee his matchmaking grandmother is harboring.

As opposite as night and day, Luke and Margherita forge a tentative friendship that grows despite the constant threat of Margherita’s discovery. But when strangers appear in the close-knit seaside town, threatening Luke’s livelihood and Margherita’s safety, the choice between justice and mercy becomes harder. And sacrifice proves the only answer.

Read the Whole Underground Romance at Our House Series!

Book One: The Italian Musician's Sanctuary (Our House on Sycamore Street, Eden Cove, England)
Book Two: The Recluse's Vindication (Our House on Heather Wynd, Bieldfel, Scotland)
Book Three: The Daughter's Goodbye (Our House on Jakaranda Laan, Cedarfontein, South Africa)

2025 Holt Medallion Finalist
2025 CROW National Excellence in Writing Award Finalist

What Readers are Saying

"This is a beautifully written story of redemption that captured my heart and imagination." — Christi, reader review

"This well-thought-out story combines a spiritual struggle of obeying man or obeying God with the real danger looming before WWII." — Paula, reader review

"I adored this little romance and all of the Italian, music, and baking woven into it." — Michaela, reader review

"Do yourself a favor, get this book if you like 1930s historical fiction, and swoony romance." — Becky, reader review

Published by Hearth Spot Press
© 2024 Danielle Grandinetti

Read the Opening Scene

Friday, August 21, 1931
San Mirra, Campania, Italia

“Diavola! Strega brutta!” The hate-filled words of her neighbors sliced through the night, driving fear deep into Margherita Vicienzo’s heart.

Huddled in a ball, she trembled against the cold marble of the church’s interior wall. Above her rose a stained glass window depicting Jesus surrounded by the little children. If only her Salvatore could physically hold her now. Protect her. He wouldn’t cast her away for being … inadatta, incapace, crippled. Perhaps He would even heal her.

The shouting outside grew increasingly violent, accompanied by fists pounding against the large wooden doors. The loudest voice reverberated in her ears. “Tu perisci!” You die.

She curled into a ball, arms wrapped around her satchel, which held her most prized possession. Her nonno’s mandolin. She closed her ears to the vitriol and grasped for the music she loved so dearly.

Iesu, dulcis memoria, dans vera cordis gaudia, sed super mel et omnia, eius dulcis praesentia.

The Latin words of the 12th century hymn floated through her mind, her vocal cords vibrating with the Gregorian chant.

Jesu, the very thought of Thee, with sweetness fills my breast, but sweeter far Thy face to see, and in Thy presence rest.

Would she see her Salvatore’s face today?

Some days, she wished it. Why had God taken her best friend and left Margherita here on earth? Why, when they had both been trapped in the earthquake last summer, had Margherita survived and Maria died? They’d been spending that fateful July day together, singing as they baked, chatting about how they would soon be sisters of the heart because Maria’s brother had just proposed to Margherita.

And then the world had shaken beneath their feet, and the buildings collapsed around them. Two days they’d been trapped beneath the rubble. Margherita had watched her friend die, thought for sure she would be next. Then Paulo found them. At first, he gathered Margherita in his arms, kissed her. Declared his love. Until he realized his sister had not survived.

From that moment, the seed of bitterness stole Paulo Sorrentino’s love, stole his heart, and turned it as black as the shirt he now wore.

Margherita shivered. He’d pledged his allegiance to Benito Mussolini, to Fascism, to the purging of all that was unfit. Like her. Like the leg that had been crushed the same day as her heart.

“Come, child.” The priest’s robes swished as he wove between the pews. “We haven’t much time.”

Margherita could only nod. For months, Padre Benedict had tried to find her refuge while Paulo’s hate turned from verbal darts to threats to physical violence. Slowly, like a gangrene, he’d turned her very neighbors against her. Painting her as a stain on their community. Unfit because she was a burden to society. And when she’d survived him burning her house to the ground? He’d declared her a witch, a devil, with unholy powers to survive the flames from which she came.

Padre Benedict helped her stand and tucked her crutches under her arms. Over her shoulder, she hung the strap of her satchel. The few hastily gathered personal effects bumped between her ribs and the bowl of her mandolin. The neck stuck out from the sack, which couldn’t be helped.

“I have a friend in Inghilterra. A vicar.” Padre Benedict surged her toward the baptismal font and the side entrance of their small chiesa. “He’s found a family who will take you in. I have an associate who will see you out of town. You will be given only the barest of information, for your safety and the safety of the refugees who come after you. But trust these people, la mia bambina, they will see you safely off the Continent.”

“Inghilterra?” Margherita’s thoughts swirled, hope and light against hate and darkness.

America as a destination had made the most sense, originally. Margherita knew the Matrone family, who had moved to New York City. Bella, Maria, and Margherita were a trio, a sisterhood, until the earthquake broke them apart. But America had clamped down on Southern and Eastern European immigration, and with Margherita’s leg, she didn’t qualify for entry. Now she was being smuggled across the Channel into Inghilterra … England.