Remember the Perfectly Revolting Tea Party? Remember the Souls of Her Feet Shoe Salon? Well, my next book launch will also go down in herstory!
The Vesuvian Affair by international woman of mystery Cosima Zanardi (as told to me, Kristen Caven), takes place at Carnevale in Venice, and the unveiling will take place in a “Carnevale atmosphere.”
On Saturday, February 11th, those who wish they were going to Venice will re-create the famous Caffe Florian at the Bellevue Club on Oakland’s Lake Merritt. A Prosecco book reception for the author will take place at the end of this event, a “dream within a dream.”
Get your tickets now for “The Venetian Affair” from 5-6pm in the Mural Lounge. $20 includes a copy of the book, a glass of bubbly, and warm-up readings by as-yet-to be-announced literary luminaries. Don’t be a gawker…costumes and masks are appreciated and admired!
Want more Carnevale? Purchase tickets for “The Venetian Adventure” and come early. From 2pm to 5pm, enjoy a dazzling array of artists and musicians, enjoying a sumptuous dessert buffet and a no-host bar.
The Vesuvian Affair, a short novella inspired by true events that didn’t exactly happen, is an explosive romance between lesser gods who inhabit innocent costumed revelers, providing much food for thought on the border of science, spirituality, and extra-ordinary sex. With a limited print run of 500, it is available only at this exclusive events, Dolce Vita Gondola, and HERE at this link:
A large crowd of revelers came through the front door, bringing a wave of excitement into the room that pushed Carla out of it. I followed her up the red-carpeted stairs to the main ballroom. The taffeta skirt swayed like a bell with each step. Science hasn’t made room, yet, for what happens to brains like mine that see outside reality, but it’s not schizophrenia because it is not a sickness. I seek and find wisdom in my visions, and something in those swinging hips was signaling me.
In the doorway to the parlor designated as the coatroom, Carla paused to take in the colorful scene of costumed revelers speaking in every European language. I decided to make my introduction and touched her shoulder. She turned with an open, American smile, recognizing my gigantic hair from Violet’s description. We engaged in the ritual feminine greeting of friends and friends of friends: admiring each other’s clothing, touching briefly here and there, warming the space between us with oxytocin. I was still sizing her up.
“I can’t believe what I’m wearing,” she gushed, new to the sensual delights of cosplay. “This dress makes me feel like a different person.” She asked me in a whisper to help re-tie her corset—dressing alone, she had made quite a mess.
—from The Vesuvian Affair (2017, Mystic Editions)
