Elise Celine Releases Inspirational Young Adult Romance Novel ‘John Dreamer’
John Dreamer is a compelling and inspirational young adult romance novel by Elise Celine, published on February 1, 2014.
"There are eight characters in the story, and many of them play a very important role, but it all comes down to Andy and John," says Elise Celine. "Andy is a troubled soul. She is very compassionate, but she's so afraid of getting hurt that she guards her feelings and shuts people away. John is an enigma, a good-looking natural leader, who observes and learns, who waits quietly before speaking his mind."
Synopsis: Andy wasn’t usually sure about much, but she was absolutely certain this was the weirdest day of her life as she stood stranded in the middle of a great white room with six strangers. Well, they were mostly strangers. She could have sworn she’d seen the guy with the green eyes before, and maybe that was why he kept staring at her. When a man calling himself the Guardian appeared and said they had come to make their deepest dreams come true, they embark on an adventure none of them ever imagined—where anything is possible—and the consequences of their actions would change them forever.
“Many of us have found ourselves in a place (our "Great White Room") where we question the path we should take in life. I would have loved to have a "Guardian" like this to guide me through the process... This is what I like the most about this book, anyone can relate to it… it is heart warming, emotional and so much fun to read!” – Amazon Review
John Dreamer is about overcoming your fears, your obstacles, your demons and going beyond what you think you are capable of to find love and happiness. It’s about changing your life for the better and living your dreams.
John Dreamer is available for sale on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Smashwords.
Excerpt from John Dreamer:
I found myself in the middle of a great white room. No windows, no ceiling, no doors. I took a step and then another, not knowing where I was, or why. I could not remember entering the place, or dropping in: it was as if I had just appeared. Everything felt eerie, from the complete silence to the seeming absence of walls.
I was wearing my favorite denim shorts, white button-down shirt and flats, my usual casual attire, but I couldn’t recall putting them on. My hair fell loosely down the sides of my face, cascades of golden natural waves, the way I like to wear it when I have no one to see and nothing to do. My skin felt soft and warm, the way it does after a pleasant day in the sun, the air was cool and light. Everything felt fresh and comfortable, as if I had just awoken from a very relaxing sleep. Was I actually awake?
In the middle of the room I found seven chairs lined in a row. They were all in different sizes and shapes, from modern and classic, to eccentric and ornate; they were also labeled. I walked beside them to get a closer look and found that one near the middle had my name on it. It was rustic wood, the design simple and at the same time organic. It was worn down and aged, like a very loved object that has been passed from generation to generation. I looked again at the row before me and thought that, if I had been given the chance, it was exactly the one I would have chosen. The names on the other chairs I did not recognize: Marcus, Olivia, Matty, John, Linda, and Roy. Perhaps I wouldn’t be alone for long.
I walked around again, and had the odd feeling that the place was moving along with me. Every time I tried to get to the other side, the way became longer; if I retraced my steps, I returned to the same spot.
Was I in some sort of institution? I felt completely sane, even though everything around me seemed daft. I wanted a mirror so I could see my face. I needed that sense of self.
Then I saw him. I hadn’t noticed him arrive. He hadn’t seen me either since he was standing with his back to me. He was roughly my age, with wavy hair that fell to his neck, unkempt but clean. He was slender and fit. His head was level and he stood tall, giving me the impression of being self-assured, comfortable in his own skin. He was looking toward the other side of the room, getting accustomed to our new surroundings. I sensed he was as confused as I was.
“Do you know where we are?” I asked, and he turned surprised at the sound of my voice. It was then I got the first glimpse of his beautiful green eyes. There was such an intensity in his stare, conveying so much emotion, I could hardly hold his gaze. I felt electricity run through my spine as I dove into this stranger who was inviting me in. He kept looking at me without answering, making my insides aflutter. This had never happened to me before. So I stood there, frozen solid, averting my eyes from his, but coming back to them. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, eight and a half. Scientists state that it takes only eight and a half seconds to fall in love at first sight. So there it was.
About Elise Celine:
I’m no princess. I never played with dolls. Climbing a tree was my idea of fun. When I was a little girl I lived on an estate owned by my maternal grandparents where all my aunts and uncles lived. The garden was immense with no boundaries other than a wire fence that we kids easily jumped over. It wasn’t fancy, but it was gorgeous. My best friend in the world was my cousin who lived a close walk away. Between oaks and walnuts and roses and pets and bugs, I had the idyllic childhood. The possibilities were endless, the adventures new every day. That changed when I turned 9 and my grandfather sold his property. Everyone had to leave, except for my family.
A big, ugly fence was constructed to separate us from our new neighbors. In a moment’s notice, the view from my window changed from a beautiful green field to a poorly-made concrete wall. I used to climb this wall and just sit there, looking for the childhood I had lost on the other side. This is when I became a writer. Fantasy became my way of escaping the grey, so I could continue to live in a world full of color and beauty. Then fantasy became life and life became writing.