My name is Monika De Giorgi and I’m visiting The Novel Approach today, to celebrate my recent release with eXtasy books on June 1st: Where I’ll Be Waiting.
It’s my first novel published in English, my fifth overall.
The book starts with the first scene I’ve written for it (usually the first scene I write is not necessarily the beginning of the book) and introduces Jesse, but Cameron was the first character I got introduced to. So I decided on a reading sample from Cameron’s POV here and how he first “connected” with Jesse, to mix it up a bit J
The scene was one, who nearly wrote itself without me having much more to do than move my fingers over the keyboard accordingly, except for Jesse’s poetry.
I sometimes write poetry, but never before in English and until this day I can’t decide if it it’s good or just really, really awful.
Sometimes I like it in a way, because it caught Jesse’s feelings at the time he wrote it and for the few words it consists of, I agonized over it more than over the 5K of words I can write on other days. Still, here and there I think I could have done better, ah well… It is Jesse’s poem and so it is right.
But that’s writing for you, isn’t it? Pages, over pages typed out in the “Zone”, when you only notice how long you have spent over your script, when you look up and the room around you is dark (or light again) and then every word is a little fight.
Scenes with Cameron were easy to write, next to the scenes with Jesse’s best friend Liam, who is more of a third protagonist, then a side character. I think it’s because they are both easygoing characters, one could befriend over a beer at the bar. Jesse is more like the guy who smiles politely and will even make some small talk, but afterwards you won’t know him any better than before you started talking to him. While writing I sometimes had the feeling he made me scratch at his walls, like he makes the people around him. Strange, isn’t it.? But this is the only way I can describe, how I sometimes fought for every page.
But in the end, it was worth it. I loved working on this book, even if it was very hard sometimes. And I fell in love with Jesse and Cam, while writing their story – so I hope you do too.
Have fun with the excerpt and don’t forget to take part in the giveaway – you can win an e-copy of Where I’ll Be Waiting or an Adult Coloring Kit, with pencils and coloring pages for Where I’ll Be Waiting.
If you want to chat with me, leave a comment. I will stop by for the next few days or drop me a line on facebook. 🙂
About the Book
Publisher: eXtasy Books
Length: 224 Pages
Categories: Erotic Romance, Fantasy
Blurb: Facing your fears, inner demons, friendship and a love to dream of.
Jesse meets a wonderful guy who is caring, attentive, lovable, and handsome to boot. Unfortunately, the only time he sees Cameron is in his dreams—dreams that are never flimsy and fast forgotten in the morning, but feel very real. And the longer they go on, the more palpable they feel to Jesse.
But what happens when these dreams have a bigger and bigger impact on Jesse’s daily life? When they begin to take a toll on him and make it harder to wake up every day? And what if they turn into nightmares and Jesse can’t get out anymore, if he never wakes up?
One day Cameron finds a heartbreaking poem in a small notebook, hidden in a used book. From the first time he reads it, the handwritten words resonate somewhere deep within him and when he goes to sleep that night, he meets Jesse for the first time—a sad young man who makes Cam want to give him reasons to smile and a shoulder to cry on. From that night on, Jesse is a nightly visitor in Cameron’s dreams.
But what happens when Cameron finds out that his Jesse is very much real? And what if a sinister presence takes hold of their shared dreams and Cameron wakes up? Can he get back to Jesse? Or will Jesse stay back forever in this dreamscape turned nightmare?
Cam had dreamed about him again. They were lying on his picnic blanket, in the meadow behind his house. Cam was leaning over the man at his side, counting the freckles that adorned the skin over his nose and cheekbones. Jesse was blinking up at him, his beautiful spring green eyes wide with wonder and unknown questions. They had talked in soft, affectionate tones about how they missed each other and how glad Cam was to have Jesse back. From where—Cam didn’t know. Jesse… the man was on his mind a lot these days, for a dream specter and a few lines of poetry scribbled in an old notebook he’d found shoved in the back of a used book. He was astonished how clearly his mind had drawn him a picture of a man he had never seen before. A picture of a tall, lean figure with reddish-brown spikes of hair, milky skin, with freckles sprinkled like cinnamon over the bridge of a narrow, straight nose. Big jade eyes surrounded by long brown lashes and crowned by sharp drawn brows that were made to get lost in. As were his pink plush lips, made to smile and… kiss. The high cheekbones of Jesse’s delicate features fit perfectly in his hands. Jesse’s body was firm, but not as muscular as Cam’s—still, he was only a few inches shorter than Cameron, and he felt just right tucked against Cam. He loved to hold Jesse and missed him in his waking hours—so much. Like a lifelong friend who’d suddenly moved away. Cam huffed into his pillow, just wanting to go back to sleep. But he needed to get up. Making a face, he raked a hand through his hair and sat up in the bed. He needed to get going if he wanted to be on time for his night shift in the book store. Yeah, night shift. They had inventory that week, and as much as it sucked, he couldn’t afford to miss out on the extra pay. He needed the extra hours, as his car had decided it was a great time to give up on its life as Cameron’s vehicle. Another reason to get up. He had no car, only an old bike. So he really, really needed to get going. “Shit!” he exclaimed when his bare feet made contact with the cold tiles in his small bathroom. He usually had no problem with late nights, but the night shifts seriously fucked with his sleeping pattern—he just never felt really rested. And as spontaneous a person as he was, he also liked his daily routine. Getting up at six, going for a run, shower, breakfast, off to the store, working until closing hours was perfect for him. His free time was the time for fun, time with family and friends, staying in, going out, however he liked it. His nights and evenings belonged to him. But not right then. He cursed, as he noticed he had zoned out again, and grabbed for his toothbrush.
An hour later, he was waiting with a travel mug of coffee in one hand in front of the store and looking out for the headlights of Amanda’s car. In his half-awake state he had forgotten his keys. He would have to get his hidden spare to get back into his own house later. Amanda was the shop owner. He had to give it to her—the older woman didn’t just shove off the ungodly hours to her employees, but shared the workload with them. He really liked Amanda. She was friendly, knew how to joke, but also how to work. She always had an open ear for her team, and once she learned about Cam’s foible for used books, she always gave him first pick when a new delivery arrived. Sometimes she even didn’t charge him. In one of those deliveries he had found the notebook with Jesse’s poetry. It was beautiful. Maybe that was the reason his mind had created the perfect male to go with the words, but somehow that explanation didn’t feel right. Jesse was so real, not like the flimsy pictures his dreams usually created that faded upon waking. But Jesse… Jesse was more like a memory. He loved the warm, spicy smell of his skin, the catfur-softness of his hair when he didn’t gel it into artful spikes. He loved the sexy pout of his lips and the incredible depth of his green, green eyes. The strength of his shoulders and arms, the flat—yet softer than Cam’s—planes of his stomach and how good it had felt to lay his head on it. The adorable way his brows scrunched up when he couldn’t find the right words to explain something to Cam. He smiled and sighed just thinking about Jesse. God, he was like a schoolgirl with a crush on a boy band member. Except, Jesse was… The familiar rumble of Amanda’s car cut through his thoughts. And that was his cue to get his head together.
The next few hours passed counting through books, working through lists upon lists, sneezing from the dust in the depths of their storeroom, and feeling wired from too much coffee. Amanda had brought homemade muffins and Cam tried to hug her for them, but she just swatted him away, citing cobwebs, grinning fondly at him. She sent him home when it was half an hour before opening, the sun already way up in the horizon in July. He climbed onto his bike with a wide yawn, yearning for a long shower, a sandwich, and then as much sleep as he could get before he needed to get up for a family cookout he had promised to attend. He would have to leave early to make it in time to the shop. At least they made good progress last night, so Amanda said she was hoping they would finish tonight. Bad for his earnings, but as tired as Cam was right now, he couldn’t help feeling a bit glad.
When he snuggled into his pillow later, with a deep sigh he wondered who the Jesse from the notebook on his desk really was. He wondered if Jesse looked like the handsome man of his dreams or totally different, or if he was a published author. Cameron never got around to looking for him online, his fingers always froze on the keyboard. Cam knew it was because he didn’t want to let go of his dream— he didn’t even try to lie to himself about that fact. Jesse Beckett was a name that could produce search results, if the poet didn’t use a pseudonym. But maybe he just wrote for himself. Or maybe he used a pen name and Cameron had read even more of him, but he somehow felt like he would recognize Jesse’s writing anywhere. Yeah, irrational, but he couldn’t help it. He sank into sleep with those rambling thoughts and visions of his Jesse smiling at him. With his eyes sparkling over the cover of a notebook just like the little leather bound journal that was waiting on his desk for Cameron to pick it up once more to re-read the lines of poetry that started everything.
Shards of stars
Glint like tears
Frozen on night’s black gown
Icy Winter storms
Sing my lament
Shroud my heart in snow
Loss is cold Just cold
It was short and more a hastened scribble of thought, than a real poem, but it touched Cam with its sadness and the loneliness it was radiating like the stars it mentioned. He stroked over the black ink on the yellowed page with the tips of his fingers. He had barely slept an hour when he woke up again because the notebook was calling out to him, like a siren. He snapped it shut, pressing it to his chest that hurt for the mourning artist. Cam never had to feel such loss, but he felt for Jesse. Of course he possessed enough knowledge about writing to understand poetry sometimes was fiction just as much as the next novel. But those words were Jesse’s true feelings while he wrote them down—he was sure about it, with the depth of his soul. The black ink was smudged in some places and the handwriting shaky. Also, this poem was the only writing in the whole notebook. It was signed Jesse Beckett under the scrawled words like a letter. Oh God, what if… No! Cam rolled his shoulders and swallowed. No, Jesse was out there somewhere and Cam hoped he wasn’t lonely anymore.
About the Author
Monika De Giorgi is a nerd, bookworm and author of M/M-Romance. Her first book got published 2007, three more followed since then. Her favorite genres are Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy (with a healthy dose of Romance). She lives with two dogs and her cat in the suburbs of Rosenheim (near Munich) and works as assistant for a film team. She’s never seen without something to read and traveling without her laptop and several notebads is just not imaginable.