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About the author:
I was born in Italy and I live and work in various cities throughout Central Europe. I enjoy travelling, playing the piano, reading and writing.
I have simply, always, loved beauty. The beauty of a feeling. The beauty of a flower. The beauty of the right words at the right moment. The beauty of a symphony when the notes grip your senses and the only thing you can feel are the goose bumps running wildly through your body.
For me, writing is a passion and a mission: share the beauty in one of its most magical forms.
What inspired you to write your book?
Stories, friends, my daily commuting and the people I used to meet during bus travelling.
Here is a short sample from the book:
It was raining cats and dogs and Martina had left her umbrella at home. Again.
After all, the morning had promised a wonderful warm and sunny spring day with just a few sparse clouds in the sky and, as such, she hadn’t even thought about putting it in her bag.
Now here she was, having left her office after a full working day, sheltering under a small roof overhang, watching the bus stop from afar – could have been two hundred meters away – wondering if she’d find a way to reach it before her evening bus arrived to take her home, an hour away.
Still twenty minutes.
Five, and the rain was not calming down at all.
She knew she’d get home drenched, but couldn’t do anything about it. This would be the last bus of the day and she couldn’t afford either a taxi or a hotel for the night. Actually, Martina didn’t want to either: she loved her home, her cosy room, her family.
She started running to the bus stop. The rain was falling hard on her dress, permeating it with big, heavy drops that pierced through the textile and froze her skin, giving her goose bumps.
Her feet clad in nothing but summer thong-sandals – as she raced to the idea of a shelter – she could feel the cold water running through her toes each stride. Her sight became blurry when drops began pouring down her drenched hair onto her forehead, and onto her cheeks, leaving trails of make-up whose taste she could already feel on her lips. When she eventually arrived there, she was soaked to the core.
The bus shelter was so small, it had room for no more than five people and was already completely full. Still no bus in sight; she looked around panicking in search of help and then she felt no rain falling on her short, wet, blonde hair anymore and a nice, warm sensation ran through her entire body. A big, dark umbrella was above her and a long summer coat was on her shoulders.
“You know, you are allowed to ask for help in this kind of situation: there’s nothing wrong in forgetting an umbrella, but you risk catching a bad cold getting drenched like this.”
She saw, beyond the coat, an arm holding the umbrella and she turned her head a little, following it. Behind her, there was a man just slightly taller than her, sympathetically smiling.
She was still panting and it took a few moments before she could speak.
“Sor… sorry… I couldn’t… the bus is coming and… thank you.”
She gave a hint of a bow, and smiled back at him.
“Also, for the coat. Won’t you get a cold, instead of me, dressed like that?”
He seemed to think for a moment.
“You need it more than me and besides, that is how a real man should behave, isn’t it?”
They laughed. The bus was soon there and they both got in. It was the last one of the day and no more than ten people were taking their seats. She sat in the centre of the bus, on those larger seats near the back door, and relaxed inside the coat. The man had a nice smell, she didn’t mind it, and she was really feeling cold and wet.