• Home
• Biography
• Happy Endings
• Charm School
• Quit for Chicks
• Contact

ROMAN HOLIDAY: Ever dreamed of being a star?

The sequel to Exchanging Lives called Roman Holiday is here!

Get ready to find out what it's like to spend a summer at a fun acting camp in the glamorous city of Rome, Italy, in Kathy b's fantastic new novel Roman Holiday - when two girls who couldn't be more different clash cultures and personalities in this exciting (and romantic) city for three whole months!

In Roman Holiday, Natalie, 14, has always wanted to be an actress, so when she wins a place at a prestigious acting summer school in Rome, she thinks it's a dream come true to leave her home in Melbourne, Australia … that is until she meets Veronica, her drama-queen roommate (and Charlie's host-sister in the fantastic novel Exchanging Lives …. she's seriously scary!).

New Yorker, Veronica, 14, is sure she's the only one at this exclusive drama camp destined for stardom (except maybe Eddie, the super-cute English boy she's got a major crush on). She's determined to get attention from everyone – especially the father she hardly ever sees.

Annie's host sister from Exchanging Lives – that's Veronica, she's a gorgeous, cool strawberry blonde New Yorker with money to burn, an O.T.T. starlet actress in the making (well, in her eyes at least) and a serious attitude to fix - is sent to Italy for a summer by her frustrated, yet completely glamorous yoga going mum, to attend an amazing international acting summer school.

Oooooh it's so much fun. You won't believe what Veronica and her new 'friends' (well, for once this designer-clad rich snob is not nearly as popular as she thinks she is here, which is frankly half the fun) get up to in the glamorous city of Rome. Think gelatos (that's Italian ice-cream YUM!), cool mopeds, and lots of fun and yes of course some extremely cute boys!!

When in Rome stuck-up Veronica clashes badly with a new character, Natalie, 14, a shy, yet understated cool and really talented Australian girl who is also at the acting summer school (think a slightly gawky teen version of Nicole Kidman with dark hair and stunning brown eyes!). Veronica better watch out because this under-dog just might be a surprising match for this wannabee starlet in more ways than one.

One thing is for sure. This Roman Holiday summer is sure to be filled with new friends, excitement, crushes and, fun!

NATALIE
Interests: Acting, being a generally cool, nice chick, hanging out with friends and family, acting, acting and (oh yeah) acting!
Destination: Leaving her comfy home in Melbourne, Australia for an exciting summer at the prestigious acting camp, Giovane Drammatico Collegio, in glamorous Rome, Italy.

Natalie, 14, has always wanted to be an actress, so when she wins a place at a prestigious acting summer school in Rome, she thinks it's a dream come true … until she meets Veronica, her drama-queen roommate. It isn't all bad because there's a very cute Italian guy called Ben who thinks she's pretty cute and she makes a hilariously crazy new French BFF called Sandy who has pink hair and makes even being around Veronica (almost) bearable.

VERONICA
Interests: Talking about how great she is, being popular, brushing her long strawberry blonde hair and thinking about how pretty she looks, designer clothes and continuing her fated journey to becoming a huge star (well, in her eyes at least!).
Destination: Leaving New York for a very eventful summer to make everyone else's lives miserable at The Giovane Drammatico Collegio, Rome, Italy.

One thing's for sure. This summer is sure to be filled with new friends, excitement, crushes and, most of all, lots and lots of fabulous drama!

CHAPTER 1: NATALIE

'Mrs Rizzo,' I said shyly, looking over at the Italian woman who'd just picked me up from Rome airport. She was going to be my 'house mother' at the Giovane Drammatico Collegio. 'I know it's late, but do you think we could make a stop at the Trevi Fountain, even just for a minute? My mum told me when she visited Rome she made a wish there and it came true.' As soon as I'd met Mrs Rizzo I could tell she was really nice, but I still felt stupid asking.

When I walked through the departure gates and saw her with my name written on a cardboard sheet, her kindly face smiling. I could have cried (and to my embarrassment I almost did). Thankfully what I did instead was happily accept her hug and hear her saw in my ear, 'Benvenuto caloroso', Natalie. Welcome to Rome, we are happy to have you.'

I don't think she noticed, but I was so happy she was there, and that she seemed so motherly and nice, that I couldn't help sighing. It was relief mixed with tiredness after the massively long flight – and more than a bit of trepidation about what was to come.

It had all happened so fast, but the idea that at first sounded like a dream – spending a whole summer at a prestigious international acting – was actually coming true. Here I was in Italy, surrounded by people yelling out in a language I couldn't understand, but which sounded glamorous and exciting. I was completely transfixed and I hadn't even left the airport lounge yet.

The flight over here from Melbourne to Rome had been fun. Chocolate, soft drink and movies on demand – what's not to like, right? Okay, so there was that old guy in the seat in front of me who snored really, really loudly for the last six hours of the flight, and the poor baby and toddler a few seats back whose constant screams let on that they clearly weren't fond of flying. I'd given their poor frazzled mum Kim a break and held gorgeous baby Nathanial and played with three-year old Otis for a few fun hours.

Hopefully it was the beginning of the best summer of my life, and maybe – if I was very lucky the very start of my real acting career.

Mrs Rizzo looked at me quizzically. 'Natalie, it is very late. I should get you to the school and off to bed. You must be very tired, no?'

I felt shy asking for something from someone I'd only just met. But I forced myself to step it up for once and, stifling a tiny yawn, quickly replied. 'Well, I am a bit tired, but … I won't feel like I'm really in Rome until I've been to the Trevi Fountain and can tell Mum I've seen it. But if it's too hard I totally understand.' For the past few weeks Mum had been telling me stories about her trip to Rome when she was backpacking through Europe in her 20s, and how it was her favourite place ever.

I looked out the car window at the exciting streets filled with interesting people and places and unknown smells. Crowds of well-dressed people walked the footpaths, teenagers on colourful mopeds shot past, and sidewalk cafes overflowed with laughing people. I desperately wanted to go to the Trevi Fountain, but I couldn't believe my uncharacteristic boldness. I started to feel nervous. Maybe it was out of order to ask a favour from someone I'd only just met.

Two dark eyes stared back at me intently for a moment. Then Mrs Rizzo suddenly said, 'No, no, Natalie, you have just arrived in Rome for the first time and your mama is right, everyone deserves to make a special wish here in Italy.' Then she added, so softly I almost couldn't hear her, 'Even if they don't always come true.'

She smiled brightly at me, took a swift left turn at a busy roundabout and fifteen minutes later we were standing in front of the stunningly beautiful Trevi Fountain at the Piazza di Trevi. It was an absolutely massive white stone fountain, with ancient statues standing amidst flowing water. I was completely transfixed.

Mrs Rizzo looked on at me kindly and said, 'We must be quick, Natalie. It is very late and I must help you settle in at the school and get back to my own children.'

I nodded nervously as I thanked her profusely again. I pushed back my shoulder-length thick brown hair, which always seemed to get in my eyes. I called it my 'wall of hair' – it saved me from looking directly at people when I was having a particularly shy day.

Ignoring the busting crowd of locals and tourists for a moment, I got out the coin I'd had in my pocket ever since Mum had given it to me a few weeks ago. She'd mad me promise to throw it in the fountain when I arrived in Rome. I closed my eyes, turned my back on the fountain and threw the coin over my shoulder, making a silent wish as it left my hand. I heard a plop as it landed in the massive pond. Dozens of other tourists around me were also intently making wishes.

I smiled and felt a sense of peace and excitement about what was to come. I was still really nervous, but also really excited about starting a new chapter in my life. For some reason I knew this was exactly where I was meant to be. I didn't know how or why, but I also knew my life was about to change.

Now all I had to do was to wait and see if my dream really would come true …

CHAPTER 2: VERONICA

'Veronica, darling, the school looks – er … lovely!' said Mother, trying her best to sound convincing as she looked dubiously at Giovane Drammatico Collegio.

'Grrr!'

I was already in a seriously bad mood after surviving the ten-hour flight in premium economy class (gross) and not first class like I'd been promised. Then, to top it all off, I find out the supposedly exclusive summer acting school I'd had to audition for and pull serious strings to get into was a crumbly old dump.

I mean, I knew acting was all about the 'art', and I was prepared to sacrifice (to a degree) at the beginning of my career to eventually become a movie star. From what I'd seen on their website I knew this place wasn't going to exactly be the Ritz, but it was supposedly the best teen summer acting school this side of the Atlantic. And after all, we were in Italy, the land of the Colosseum and fashion houses like Gucci, Versace, Prada, Pucci and Armani (where I wanted to spend the rest of my life shopping with my dad's credit card).

So the last thing I expected was a run-down, tacky old school. Had I seriously left out air-conditioned three-storey brownstone on East 128th Street in New York for this?!

'Hey, ciao bella!'
'Ehi, la bella ragazza!'

Hmmmm. My ears pricked up as I heard sultry male voices directed at me. I flicked my long, strawberry-blond hair off my face so I could check out the local talent. Two teenage guys dressed in jeans, retro t-shirts and baseball caps were walking on the opposite side of the street. They shot me cheeky grins and one even winked at me. He even looked like he was about to come over and say hi, until Mother Dear shot him a 'don't you dare' look.

Humph!

Still, maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all. Only a couple of hours in Italy and I've already been hit on by the locals. Best of all, soon Darling Mother wouldn't be around to sabotage things.

After my very pleasant but all-too-momentary distraction with the local eye candy, I immediately clicked back into my well-practised black mood. I sighed loudly and shot Mother a nasty look. The tacky star symbol at the end of the Giovane Drammatico Collegio sign was covered in Italian graffiti, and close up the light-blue paint was peeling away from the concrete wall. What a joke.

I wasn't going to let Mother off easily by being nice now. After all, if my best bud Amanda W – who was spending the summer at an exclusive resort in the Bahamas – knew I was stuck flying from New York in cattle class on a trashy flight to Europe she'd be in delighted hysterics for weeks.

Even worse, everyone who mattered at All Saints School would know about it (in exaggerated detail) in nanoseconds. Okay, she was my best friend, but Amanda couldn't keep her mouth shot about a piece of juicy gossip like this. She'd be more excited than if she found a pair of this-season Jimmy Choo boots in her size and in perfect condition at a bargain sample sale.

'Well, I'm sure it's much nicer inside, Veronica,' said Mother. Sure, it was okay for her, wasn't it? As soon as she'd dumped me she was off on a chic (translation: extremely expensive) 'culinary adventure', a summer-long cooking school in Tuscany. The chi-chi villa she was going to stay in was on a magnificent estate with its own private forest, vineyard and olive groves.

Somehow Mother Dear had scored herself the best deal, living in total luxury while she learnt how to make the perfect risotto, gnocchi and pasta.

Last I heard she still wasn't eating carbs since she went on her crazy, high-maintenance, gluten-free diet last year. The woman had a hissy fit when I brought a loaf of sourdough bread into the house. I would have asked why she was finally deigning to switch back to eating like a normal human, but that would have involved a conversation I just couldn't be bothered having.

What did I car what the reason was, so long as it meant I was being allowed a whole summer to cut loose in Rome? Even if the place looked like a Bronx tip, at least I got to act every day, right?

'Ciao!' said an unusual-looking yet stunning woman. She had dark eyes, jet-black hair slicked back in a bun, and a prominent nose. Seriously, if she went to my school she'd have had a nose job by the time she was fourteen, like half-a-dozen girls and a few guys I knew (they all apparently 'broke their noses' last summer and appeared after the vacation with perfect ski-jump noses). Her classic red lipstick looked like a dollop of raspberry jam on her perfectly olive skin, and she had a big black mole on her upper lip, which I couldn't take my eyes off (seriously, hadn't she heard of concealer?) She walked over to us with her hand outstretched.

'Benvenuto.'

Note to self I really should have studied my Italian phrase book on the plane instead of watching back-to-back movies.

Seeing our blank expressions, she looked us up and down. I couldn't help but notice that her expression altered slightly. 'Hello, you are Americans, yes?'

'Yes, from New York. I'm Annabel Steele and this is my daughter Veronica. She's enrolled here for the special summer program,' said Mother, putting on her ultra-fake, pseudo-English posh accent she always spoke with whenever she was seriously trying to impress anyone.

'Buono. Good. Welcome to Rome. I am Carla Lombardi. I live over the summer with the twenty or so girls and boys who are staying on site. There are a few locals who live close by and just come for lessons during the day.

'Er, you do not worry though,' she added, turning to Mother. 'All the boys stay overnight at a local boys' school, so there is no chance of the funny business, eh?'

Surprisingly, Mother did genuinely look slightly relieved. I tried my best to feign polite interest. All I really wanted to do was get away from this Italian woman as quickly as possible, find my room, have a shower and maybe try and look for those cute boys so they could show me around on my first day in town. And possibly even squeeze in some private Italian tutoring. After all, from what I could tell so far, the locals were very friendly. I figured I may as well make the best of a bad situation.

'So, Carla, what's the deal with this place?' I said, getting straight to the point. 'If we slip you a few extra Euro can you make sure I'm specially taken care of during my stay?'

'Huh?' Carla suddenly turned to stare straight at me, her eyelids crinkling quizzically. Even the mole on her upper lip was twitching at me angrily. I sear I could almost feel her deep dark eyes penetrating into mine.

'Oh you know – a bit of extra-special treatment. Breakfast in bed, extra towels, late curfew, 1500 thread count Egyptian sheets and chocolates on the pillow,' I said, only half-joking (about the chocolate that is – I was totally off dairy).

'Er, my little Veronica, you make a joke? Or I'm afraid you have the things mixed up. We are a prestigious acting school, yes? We are all here to work hard and learn how to be the best actors we can be. Not to learn how to be a spoilt princess, okay?' she said, with a forced smile on her face (which was barely concealing a disdainful snarl).

She looked me up and down again, in disgust this time. Taking in my bangles, cute watermelon-coloured Juicy Couture tracksuit (so chic, yet ultra-comfy for flying – I never get on a plane in anything else), and perfectly applied make-up. She glared at me really seriously, like she was head of the All Saints fashion police and I'd just been caught wearing marble-wash jeans at an A-list soiree in Manhattan.

'Okay, so you will decide right now if you wish to stay and learn and work hard to maybe one day become an actress. After all, only the best students were accepted to come here and learn. It is a privilege, no?' said Carla, giving an obviously well rehearsed lecture. 'Or you will leave right this second along with your silly requests, si? And either way you call me Ms Lombardi, per favore.'

I could see a midget-like Italian guy about my age listening as he worked and smirking delightedly. I took a second to shoot him a filthy look. Feeling my face turning red, I pretended to be desperately in need of a drink and reached into my soft leather Balenciaga handbag for my bottled water.

'I'm sure Veronica didn't mean anything, Ms Lombardi,' Mother hurriedly said, still using her annoyingly fake English accent. 'Right, Veronica?' She looked at me pleadingly. It was clear she could see her perfectly planned Tuscan summer quickly slipping through her fingers.

As humiliated as I was, I also knew that it would be even more humiliating not doing the summer school after bragging about it to anyone who would listen for the past couple of months. I had even emailed Charlie, out Aussie exchange student from last year, about it. She was ultra-excited, since she has family in Italy or something.

But most importantly, I really do want to be an actress. No time like the present to start using my carefully honed theatre skills, right?

'Ms Lombardi,' I said sweetly, like a well-rehearsed politician. 'Of course I was only joking. Sorry, something must have been lost in translation – American sense of humour you know!' I laughed. 'Or maybe my brain is all mushed up from the cabin pressure on the flight.' I flashed her my most charming and beguiling smile.

To put the icing on the cake, I added, 'I'm so sorry for the misunderstanding.' I locked eyes with her with a fixed, fake smile on my face.

Mother quickly jumped onboard, nervously adding, 'Yes, that's our Veronica. Slightly odd sense of humour sometimes, but a truly dedicated actor, and also so easy to get on with. We had an Australian exchange student staying with us last semester and Veronica immediately took her under her wing and looked after her like she was her very own, right Veronica?' She poked me in the back pointedly.

We both knew Mother would have said or done anything at this point to successfully dump me and escape on her idyllic Italian adventure. But I couldn't care less, because as far as I was concerned the feeling was mutual. There was no way I was going to let this stupid Italian woman ruin my plans for a fun summer in Rome.

I nodded submissively, like butter wouldn't melt in my mouth, as Ms Lombardi took one more look at us both, shook her head slightly and said curtly, 'Buono. Okay, you settle in. Showers and the bathrooms are at the end of the hall and you are sharing room 13. Actually, I think you share with an Australian girl. That's good, no? You'll have lots to talk about if you have a good Australian friend already.'

'SHARING?!' I blurted before I could stop myself.

'Yes, there is some problem with you sleeping in bunk beds and sharing a room?' Ms Lombardi looked at me like she was almost daring me to give he an excuse to throw me out before I'd even begun.

I was so angry I felt like there was steam coming out of my ears. I'd never been so humiliated. Who was this complete nobody babysitting a bunch of teenagers for the summer to think she could push me around? What an absolute COW!

I took a deep breath, re-plastered that fake smile on my face and replied, 'No, no, of course not. No problem at all. Mother knows how much I just love sharing. Right Annabel? And bunk beds! Sounds like great fun.'