⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐(5 Stars)
Venice has been written about endlessly, but The Water Girls finds something rare in its canals. Instead of gondoliers and nobles, Tony Stevens turns his attention to the women who carried the city’s water, and in doing so, he gives voice to a world on the edge of disappearance.

The story follows Lina, a young woman who arrives in Venice unsure of who she is or what she wants. Through her cousin Maria and a circle of hardworking water carriers, Lina is introduced to a city that is beautiful, exhausting, generous, and cruel all at once. When one of the women, Rosa, is found dead, the novella becomes quietly devastating. There is no dramatic chase, no triumphant justice. Instead, there is grief, solidarity, and the stubborn dignity of women who must keep going because the city depends on them.

It becomes evident that Tony Stevens writes Venice not as a postcard, but as a workplace shaped by sweat, grief, and resilience. Their days are measured in footsteps, heavy buckets, and contested territories around the city’s wells. Their lives are precarious, and Stevens captures this with remarkable sensitivity. In doing so, the Water Girls restores dignity to women whose labor once sustained Venice, yet history nearly erased.

As the narrative builds, the story reveals its emotional core. Quietly powerful, this story proves that solidarity can be as transformative as justice. The real story is not about solving a crime, but about how working women endure loss in a world that rarely pauses for them.

What makes this book so compelling is its patience. Stevens’ prose is measured and immersive, lingering on the textures of Venetian life: the echo of voices in narrow calli, the glint of light on still canals, the ritual of sharing bread and wine in a public garden. These moments allow Lina’s inner transformation to unfold naturally. Her journey is subtle, shaped by observation rather than ambition. As the city slowly becomes legible to her, she begins to imagine a future within it. In this way, Lina’s journey is not about finding answers, but about learning where she belongs.

By the story’s close, Venice remains imperfect and unresolved, just as Lina herself does. Yet there is a sense of earned belonging, a recognition that identity can be formed through work, community, and shared experience rather than romance or escape. What lingers most is the humanity of the women at the story’s center. Stevens offers a deeply humane portrait of working women at the edge of modernity, capturing a way of life on the brink of disappearance with care and restraint.

The Water Girls is ideal for readers who appreciate historical fiction that privileges atmosphere and character over spectacle. It is a thoughtful, quietly resonant work that honors women whose stories were rarely written down, even as they carried the weight of a city on their shoulders.

Readers interested in historical fiction, women’s labor, or a Venice beyond the clichés will find this book well worth exploring.  Available now at Amazon.