Monday, March 23, 2015

Everything I know.


A few months ago, in an interview, a blogger asked me if there was anything autobiographical in my novel, A Veil of Glass and Rain. My answer was, and still is: No, there's nothing autobiographical, and yet there's everything I know.

There's my knowledge of Cinema. Brina, my female protagonist, is studying Cinema at the University of Rome; and often reviewers and readers have remarked on how much reading A Veil of Glass and Rain feels like watching a movie, because the story is told in a very “visual” way.

There's my love for the Arts. Eagan's (my male protagonist) and Brina's parents are photographers; and Eagan decides that he wants to become an Architect while standing before the Colosseum with Brina.

There's my passion for music. I used to play the piano and the saxophone when I was a kid, but I wasn't talented; even so, I had fun and I developed a fondness for classical, jazz and rock music. In my novel, Brina and her two best friends, are talented musicians and part of a very appreciated rock band.

Over the years I've had the chance to travel across Europe and beyond. As I mentioned before, Brina's and Eagan's parents are photographers and their work require them to travel a lot, and sometimes their kids follow them; so in the novel, through my protagonists' eyes we get to see Italy, France, Germany, Russia. 

Finally, in A Veil of Glass and Rain, there's my belief that friendship is very important; Eagan and Brina are first of all friends, then they become lovers.

Excerpt:


A stolen kiss...

[...]I was wearing a yellow sundress and clutching the handle of my guitar case. Eagan offered to carry it for me, but I shook my head, for he was already bearing the weight of his huge backpack.

A part of me was glad he hadn't been able to hear me play. The piece I had chosen was an acoustic cover of one of my favorite rock songs. The acoustic version was utterly sentimental; it expressed perfectly the way I felt about Eagan. After my performance, all my professors and fellow students admitted that they'd never heard me play with so much feeling. I wasn't certain I wanted Eagan to discover that part of my soul yet.

We embraced awkwardly. I noticed that his eyes were red and tired. I also remarked that he was tanned and that he smelled good, as always. Of course, I didn't reveal my sentiments.

It was a bright summer day. We went to a park, we sat, we didn't talk much. After a while, Eagan lay back and fell asleep. I watched him rest for a few moments, then I reclined alongside him. I placed my body very close to his, so that I could feel his heat through the thin cotton of my dress. His handsome face was turned toward me and his lips were slightly parted. Flecks of gold dotted his beard stubble and his dark blond hair.

I braced one of my hands on his arm and the other one on his muscled chest, then I leaned toward his face, keeping my eyes open. I let my mouth linger over his and breathed his breath then, finally, I whispered a kiss across the side of his mouth, then I licked his upper lip. I waited. He didn't stir. So I closed my eyes and brushed his lips with mine once more. I became greedy. My tongue pressed between his parted lips and stroked his tongue once, twice and then again until I moaned and an unbearable ache surged between my legs.
My fingers gripped his sweaty T-shirt. I kept kissing Eagan until he groaned softly in his sleep. 

“I love you,” I murmured against his lips.

I moved away from him. I forced myself to stand, I grabbed my guitar case and I left.

On the bus, I kept licking my lips; I tasted him, the salt of his sweat, and a hint of cinnamon. 

A Veil of Glass and Rain:Special Edition, 
Copyright © 2015 Petra March

Book Links:


About Petra March:
Petra March (aka Petra F. Bagnardi) studied Screenwriting and History of American Cinema at UCLA and NYU. Presently, Petra keeps traveling and dreaming through her novels. Her characters are deeply in love with Europe and the USA, just like Petra is. 

Connect with Petra:
authorpetramarch.weebly.com
www.facebook.com/AuthorPetraMarch 



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