Claire Hamner Matturro: First, congratulations, Daco S. Auffenorde, on such a splendid and thrilling book. There’s an amazing level of suspense throughout, yet so many passages are simply beautiful. For example, your lyrical descriptions of the vineyards in Italy are so rich and lush that they add to the sheer pleasure of reading the book. As your main character also observes: “Mature Chianti grapevines with rich canopies of leaves and full clusters of grapes are nature’s work of art.”
So, my first question is about you and any connection you might have with Italian vineyards. You certainly write as if you have intimate knowledge of growing grapes. Might you share your connections and the source of your knowledge?
Daco S. Auffenorde: First, thank you for reading and enjoying my novel! I’m truly honored.
It all began with a Christmas tradition when my husband’s parents were still with us—and a very strategic-thinking sister-in-law. Every year, this side of the family drew names for gifts, and mine always seemed to land with my sister-in-law, who spends half the year in the U.S. and the other in Tuscany. When she’d ask what I wanted, my answer was always, “Italian wine, please.”
A few years back, an exceptional bottle of wine was surprisingly affordable, and airlines still permitted passengers to carry on liquids, including wine! (A far cry from today’s travel restrictions!) When my sister-in-law returned to the States from Tuscany, she would bring me a case of Italian red wine—as close as I’d gotten to the country of Italy.
Then, my husband surprised me with a trip to Tuscany—the very setting I would later weave into The Medici Curse. We stayed at my in-laws’ 350-year-old home, surrounded by vineyards and olive groves, with a magnificent view that stretched across rolling hills to distant mountains.
We visited Italian wineries and dove into the wine tasting experience. I should note that back in the day, to visit a winery, one didn’t just show up, not like in Napa or Sonoma. Rather, you needed an appointment. Otherwise there was a chance you wouldn’t be invited inside the tasting room. To drink wine in Italy is a personal experience, often with the proprietors themselves. Truly, a lovely opportunity to learn and savor the culture of Tuscany. The trip, along with meeting local residents, stayed with me and found its way into my novel.
CHM: On a similar topic—wine! My goodness, so often while reading, I had the urge to pour a full glass of red wine and indulge. As with the vineyards, you display a wealth of knowledge about wine—its production, storage, varieties, and, of course, the drinking of it. Is this a matter of diligent research, personal experience, or perhaps a blend of both?
Daco S. Auffenorde
DSA: My husband and I always dreamed of owning our own vineyards and winery. We read books, even scouted out a few acres in northern California—but with our law practice in its early stages, we never took the leap. Just too much on our plates. So any education that I might claim comes from boots-on-the-ground experiences: visiting wineries, listening to proprietors’ stories, reading books, and yes, online research.
Here’s a story that captures the magic of those trips. During one Tuscan excursion, we impulsively stopped at a winery—without an appointment—and were welcomed like old friends. The young owner poured us a glass of his Chianti, and as we enjoyed the wine, he led us through the cellar and production area. After, he surprised us with an olive oil tasting. (Our California wine excursions hadn’t prepared us for that—I remember thinking, Now this is a very creative entrepreneur!)
Midway through, two elderly women walked in carrying giant jugs. We assumed they wanted wine by the glass—until the proprietor marched over to a stainless-steel tank, opened the spigot, and filled their containers to the brim. Turns out, locals purchased their everyday wine straight from the source. My husband and I stood there, jaws on the floor, as those women left with what might’ve been the world’s best house wine. I’d love to paint this very scene, and perhaps one day, I just might. As you recall, the main character in my book, Anna, is an artist herself whose passion is painting. In the novel, she captures on the canvas an incident she sees when she first arrives in Tuscany—two elderly men sitting on the porch drinking wine while a woman sweeps around them.
I like to think what I’ve learned about the subject has come from joyfully tasting wine, and as one of my characters, Fulvio says, I can use the Google too.
CHM: Curses! The legendary curse on a necklace known as the Medici Falchion—described as three tiers of rubies and diamonds—is a driving force in the plot. Whether the curse is real or merely superstition remains a significant question throughout the story.
Famed opera singer Vittoria de’ Medici Rossi was wearing it the night she fell to her death, and the necklace has not been seen since. Anna Maria de’ Medici Rossi, the protagonist and Vittoria’s only child, returns to her family villa in Italy both to further her career as an artist and to find the long-missing necklace. She believes she will never feel whole until she finds it, and she also suspects it is hidden somewhere in the villa. Anna and her relatives hold differing views on whether the Medici Falchion is truly cursed. Even Anna fluctuates in her suspicions.
So, my questions for you are: Do you believe in curses? Specifically, do you think an object like a necklace can be cursed? What about family curses that travel through generations?
DSA: What a fun question!
If I said I believed in curses, I just might make international headlines! The truth? I don’t. One of my favorite characters to write in The Medici Curse is Edoardo, the butler and caretaker. When Anna asks him whether he believes the necklace is cursed, he replies, “I do believe that, perhaps, people, by their bad actions, have cursed the necklace.”
The mind is powerful; what we tell ourselves, we often come to believe. People may feel cursed during prolonged streaks of bad luck, but I subscribe to the opposite philosophy: Preparation and positioning—being in the right place at the right time—create our good fortune.
As to generational curses? There’s nuance. Research shows that traumas can echo through families, especially if not identified and addressed. Psychologists call this intergenerational trauma. Survivors of war, like Japanese internment camp prisoners or Holocaust survivors, can pass down heightened stress responses via epigenetic changes—chemical tags that alter gene expression. Their children may inherit these anxiety-like traits, and if the cycle continues unchecked, the “curse” can persists, its origins forgotten.
Lab studies even demonstrate this. Mice exposed to chronic stress were more likely to pass on heightened anxiety-like behavior to their offspring—excessive grooming. The science is evolving, but the implications are insightful.
So if Anna’s ancestors—especially the women who wore the “cursed” necklace—lived in constant fear of becoming its next victim, the same hypervigilance could persist through generations.
Of course, it would’ve made for a far better answer if I’d grasped my chest and whispered, “Darling, curses are absolutely real—now pour me some Chianti!”
Claire Matturro
CHM: Caves play a chilling and major role throughout the story. The vineyard has underground caves for storing wine, and the villa’s basement opens into a network of caves filled with discoveries. Anna, along with others, encounters danger and surprises in these subterranean spaces.
As with vineyards and wine, you demonstrate a deep knowledge of caves and spelunking. These passages feel authentic. Do you have personal experience with caving, or is this simply the result of thorough research and a vivid imagination?
DSA: Where there are mountains, there are caves. However, caves are more likely to form in mountainous regions that have soluble rocks, like limestone, and conditions, conducive to water erosion. Not all mountains have rock that’s easily dissolved, but in my area, the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, the landscape is dominated by layers of limestone. This particular rock is easily eroded by water—and we have that type of rock and a lot of rainwater here in North Alabama. When rainwater seeps into the ground, it erodes the limestone, creating underground passages and chambers—caves, some truly extraordinary.
My own experience with caves began early on in life. Growing up, family excursions and school fieldtrips often took us to explore caves. One that stands out is Cathedral Caves, a large and breathtaking cave that you can tour. Inside, there’s one of the largest stalagmites in the world, measuring 45 feet tall and 243 feet in circumference. The cave is awe-inspiring, especially considering the vast stalagmite forest inside, with one formation reaching over 27 feet tall.
Though I’m not a spelunker myself, I’ve been fortunate enough to visit some of the most beautiful caves around. There are many people in my area who are trained professionals. Caves are hazardous, so no one should ever enter one without an expert, even then, there’s no guarantee of safety.
I live on a mountaintop where there’s a cave with a vast underground waterfall, but getting there requires skill. Near my parents’ home is Three Caves, a local spot where summer fundraising dinners and concerts are held just outside the opening to the caves. Another nearby attraction is Rattlesnake Saloon near Tuscumbia, where you can enjoy burgers and live music underneath a large overhanging ledge of rock—weather permitting, of course.
So, caves are everywhere around here, and living in this area means you inevitably learn a thing or two about them along the way. While writing The Medici Curse, I considered the region of Tuscany, parts of which feature caves. Naturally, I included caves as prominent settings in the book.
Anna’s relatives grow grapes and produce wine, cellaring their wines in hillside caves. This practice isn’t novel. In the 3rd-4th century CE, the Romans quarried the chalk subsoil of the Champagne region to construct buildings and fortifications, leaving behind underground tunnels. In the Middle Ages, various religious orders—at the epicenter of growing grapes and producing wine—recognized that these underground areas made for perfect places to store and preserve their stock due to the cool temperatures and consistent humidity. By the 17th and 18th centuries, Champagne houses sought stable places not to just age and store their bottles, but also to help control the fermentation process. Soon, other French wine producers caught on and began using caves and digging into hillsides to create optimal storage spaces.
So, with my fascination with caves and love of wine, adding a cave or two in the Medici Curse just worked.
CHM: The Italian villa, described as a classic Italian Renaissance estate, is—as Donna Meredith noted in her review—almost a character in itself. At times, the house seems to possess a personality, appearing in turns benevolent or malevolent. Anna recalls her mother once saying, “All houses have souls, just like people.”
The villa has a haunting, chilling quality, with an underlying sense of danger. Yet it is also a place of great beauty, filled with precious memories for Anna. It holds crucial clues, hidden in its many rooms, secret spaces, and especially in the basement and the caves connected to the mansion.
Is the villa based on or inspired by a real place, or is it purely a creation of your imagination?
DSA: The Medici villa is entirely a creation of my own. While the rolling hills and fields of Tuscany are dotted with majestic homes, many of which are situated alone and accessible only by long, winding, tree-lined drives, the villa in The Medici Curse takes inspiration from these landscapes. Without neighboring houses, these estates evoke a sense of grandeur, privacy, and isolation.
In Gothic novels, houses are not merely settings; they become central to the atmosphere and themes of the story. The house evolves into a character of its own, with its features often reflecting the fears and conflicts of the characters. In novels like Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights, and Rebecca, the houses represent isolation and inhospitability—embodying the emotional or social isolation felt by the protagonists. The decay and ruin of these houses mirror the disintegration of social structures, forgotten histories, or troubled minds. In The Fall of the House of Usher, the house itself is a metaphor for the crumbling mental state of the Usher family, and when it collapses, it becomes a symbol of death.
To create a house that evokes dread and fear, reflecting the emotional and psychological states of the characters, essential elements like dark, cold, and oppressive spaces, hidden corridors, and secret rooms become natural candidates for inclusion in a story. These areas within the house amplify the characters’ vulnerabilities—their sense of being cut off from the world and trapped. The many rooms, hidden spaces, and labyrinthine passages reflect Anna’s inner turmoil—her struggle to uncover truth and reconcile with her past. The basement and caves are significant, as they hide crucial clues about the dark secrets of her family’s history. And sometimes, the house and its furnishings feel like a prison to Anna.
Gothic novels frequently explore themes of legacy, identity, isolation, and the inescapable grip of the past. In The Medici Curse, Anna is the last surviving direct descendant of her family. While she has distant relatives, she feels disconnected from them, unsure of whom she can trust. She hasn’t seen them since she was twelve, and although they call her family, their actions don’t always reflect that bond. The weight of her past looms over her, with others accusing her pushing her late mother down the foyer stairs during a night terror.
When Anna returns to Tuscany as an adult to claim her mother’s family estate, including the villa, she is forced to confront these unresolved issues. Unlike the decaying estates in traditional Gothic stories, the house in The Medici Curse is meticulously maintained—eerily so. Its pristine condition is far more haunting than a crumbling, abandoned mansion she could easily run from. But the villa, pristine and seemingly untouched by time, stands in stark contrast to the decay of the past. Anna is trapped by the physical space and the weight of her family’s history.
As a Medici, Anna is burdened by a powerful, ruthless legacy. The death of her famous opera singer mother haunts her, and she struggles with the fear of what she may be capable of. Everyone seems to know her, but no one is willing to forgive her. She has no one to turn to and, as a result, is isolated. She is torn between the past and her uncertain future. Will she keep the estate, the only tie to her family, or will she abandon it and remain trapped by her fear of being undesired?
Adding to her turmoil is the presence of a cursed heirloom called the Medici Falchion, an object that has plagued the women of her family for generations. Anna hopes that if she can find and destroy the necklace, she can escape the madness of her past. And the only place the missing heirloom could be is hidden within the house itself. The villa, with its labyrinth of dark corridors, secret rooms, and haunting beauty, is as much a character in her story as the people in it. So, if all houses have souls, then it’s up to Anna to decide what type of soul her house will have—will it remain a cold, oppressive place, steeped in Gothic darkness and the echoes of past sins, or will it offer her a chance to rewrite her fate, to cast off the shadows and find redemption in its walls?
CHM: Bugs! Bats! Crows! You use nature masterfully to heighten the sense of terror in the novel. Yet, just as with the villa, you skillfully contrast darkness with beauty in your descriptions of the natural world.
One of the most terrifying elements is the presence of “devil bugs.” You describe them as having painful bites, stingers, and a strong, unpleasant odor. Their appearance in the story builds suspense and serves as an ominous harbinger of danger. Are these devil bugs based on a real insect, or are they purely a product of your imagination?
DSA: The Devil Bugs are entirely a product of my imagination. I needed a sinister, terrifying insect to evoke unease, add a layer of dread and mystery, and amplify the breakdown of the natural order—common themes in Gothic literature. Insects often symbolize transformation into a dark, otherworldly realm, and they can also represent decay and corruption, much like the bluebottle fly.
At the beginning of the book, when Anna arrives at the entrance gates to the villa, she is immediately confronted by the dark, foreboding presence of the gargoyles. Her initial fears subside when she recalls that such symbols are meant to represent protection. Not for long, though. Upon reaching the villa, as Edoardo, the caretaker, opens the door to greet her, Anna is confronted by a large, grotesque fly buzzing out of the house—an omen, or perhaps a manifestation of something that has long been lurking in the shadows finally escaping? So yes, a harbinger of danger.
As a child, Anna had a deep fear of bugs, and she was stung by a Devil Bug when she was young. The memory of that pain resurfaces when she opens the windows of her art studio, eager for the fresh air and the scent of roses. She encounters bumblebees—an insect she has come to appreciate over the years—and becomes captivated by their mesmerizing hum. It’s a brief moment of reprieve, a reflection of the villa’s beauty. But that peace is short-lived when a more ominous Devil Bug appears. The bumblebee symbolizes the more serene, even beautiful side of the home, while the Devil Bugs serve as a chilling reminder of the oppressive, malevolent force that haunts Anna.
I have a fascination with crows, fascinated by their intelligence. But it’s also said that they can hold a grudge. They’re frequently in my own yard, and once, one dive-bombed my cat as she walked across the grass. Though I don’t recall her ever doing anything that warranted the attack.
In The Medici Curse, the crows are one of my favorite elements. They carry an air of mystery and malevolence, symbolizing the uncanny while deepening the sense of dread and foreshadowing darker events to come. In Gothic fiction, crows aren’t all doom and gloom—they can also represent a sense of freedom, though it’s always tinged with foreboding. I hope one day, one of my crows will fly up to my deck and decide that it’s time to become friendly. I’d hate to imagine what might happen otherwise.
CHM: Your website (https://www.authordaco.com/bio.htm) mentions that you hold a J.D. from the Cumberland School of Law. Do you practice law? If so, how do you balance your legal career with writing such complex, layered books?
Also, do you think you might write a legal thriller at some point?
DSA: I recently trained to become a mediator of civil disputes, so you might say I’m shifting my focus from practicing law to becoming a peacemaker. As to balancing career with writing, I’ve always been the type of person who can accomplish a lot. I suppose I’m just focused and good at managing my time.
As to writing a legal thriller, that question is still up in the air. My husband writes legal thrillers, so maybe I’ll leave that genre to him. However, I can tell you that I do have two genres on my radar at the moment: espionage and historical fiction, specifically set during WW2. That said, I don’t plan to stray too far from thrillers just yet. I’ve already submitted my book, The Twist, to my editor, and I’m hopeful we’ll keep the title!
CHM: Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts with the readers of Southern Literary Review. On behalf of SLR, I wish you all the best with The Medici Curse and your future books.
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