FIERY FIELDS is set from 1909 to 1917. The title reflects Teresa's experiences from her violent wedding night to her volatile life in America.
Teresa, a poor seventeen-year-old girl, longs for love and independence, but her mother sends her to America to follow a man her mother had forced her to marry. On shipboard, a girl, Violetta, dies and Teresa assumes Violetta's identity. Unfortunately, Violetta had been on her way to meet, for the first time, her fiancÚ, Nick, and his controlling mother. Does Teresa fool them?
Teresa's mother insisted that love and independence are only for the rich and will merely lead Teresa to pain. If that means that she must have money, somehow Teresa will earn it by creating a noteworthy career. Can this penniless immigrant in a strange, hostile new world overcome her difficulties? Is her mother's prophecy correct? How does she deal with the men in her life.
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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
"Author Mary Carchio Anconetani seems so well acquainted with the Italian immigrant culture of the early 1900s, that she convinced me FIERY FIELDS was built on her family's oral traditions. I picture her sitting at her grandmother or great-grandmother's knee, questioning her eagerly for every detail of 'how it was then'."Joy Calderwood -- The Word On Romance
"The sights, the sounds, and the smells are nearly a tangible substance... hold a special place in the heart of all Americans for many have been living in America for at least a couple of generations. Yet we must recall that our own ancestors traipsed across the ocean in hopes of a better life. It was not always an easy feat. And many times, it was a struggle. But they did make the crossing...FIERY FIELDS is a true keeper to help us all remember our heritage..."Brenda Ramsbacher -- Scribblers
"Anconetani chronicles the Italian immigrant struggle to achieve the American dream with graceful writing, vivid characters, and poignant honesty.
A truly gifted story of the immigrant in America, FIERY FIELDS is a must for your reading list."
"I've read FIERY FIELDS and enjoyed it thoroughly. The Characters are real and interesting! I can see it as a movie."Long Island's Radio Personality Luisa Potenza is the host of "Italia Mia" Sundays on 1370WALK.AM and on the Internet at 1370WALK.com
He pushed her back into the hallway. As the door swung shut, he pushed her against the wall separating the hall from the factory, dropped his cane and took her into his arms.
Teresa shifted closer to him, clinging to him, unleashing her pent-up hunger for him. His lips at her temple, on her eyes, then upon her mouth, were warm, demanding. No longer was her kiss like the kiss on the rooftop, young, innocent. Passion seized her. The electric sewing machines' pulsing on the wall ran through her, intensifying her heart's throbbing. Her feelings grew more intense, surging through her body. She wanted desperately to welcome him into her body, but a small inner voice brought her back to her senses.
Teresa pushed him away, trying to regain control. "I. . . I. . . my breath."
"I know," his voice was thick with emotion, too. "Isn't it wonderful?" For a moment, he thought his legs were going to buckle under him. He took a deep breath, trying to ease his pounding heart, and leaned back against the wall. He held her hands. "Your hands are so beautiful." He kissed her palms, failing to notice the two-carat diamond ring on her finger.
She smiled through her tears. "That lock still refuses to stay in place." She pushed it back. "You look so good to me."
"Have you any idea how good you look to me?"
Change the subject or I'll give myself to him right here.