I have nearly finished writing my new book, The Choice of a Countess. It still needs some editing. I would like to share with you an extract from the book, Chapter 1. Feedback is always welcome! “At the age of six, Guy was often prone to anginas. One evening, after two days of a particularly severe cough and elevated temperature, Angele and Louis called a family doctor. He came to see Guy, examined him, asked him to open his mouth and say “Aah”, and wrote out a prescription to take to a pharmacy. Then he told Guy: “Turn you head to the side and cough as strongly as you can.” All of a sudden, Guy felt a cold touch on his lower abdomen. As he continued to cough, he lowered his eyes to see what was going on. To his surprise, the doctor was pulling down his underclothes. It was the doctor’s wedding ring that was touching Guy’s skin. The boy was surprised and expected the doctor to explain what he was doing. Instead, the doctor turned to his parents who were standing beside him and said: “Your son does not have testicles.” Guy remembered that Angele and Louis turned pale. “How is that possible?” “I would not worry. They will descend later.” “Can there be some mistake?” “I would not think so.” Sensing that there were other questions to come, he added: “Come to my office tomorrow at 5PM. We will have time to talk.” Louis accompanied the doctor […]
I’m almost done writing my last novel The Choice of a Countess based on a true story of R.B. about an awesome woman born intersex. There is still a lot of revising and polishing left to do. And I still have to find a publisher for the book. To know more about the plot of the book go to the page The Choice of a Countess I would like to tell today how R.B. and I have met and why did I start writing about her? I met R. B. during Christmas vacation on Martinique, on Salinas beach, reputedly the most beautiful beach on the island. We started to talk. Suddenly R. B. asked: “You do not notice anything unusual about me?” “No,” I said, giving her an attentive look, to see if I had missed anything in her appearance. She looked like any other woman. Tall, strongly built, she must have been beautiful when she was young with her wide-set turquoise eyes. For some reason, she decided to share with me the secret of her birth. We met a couple of days later for breakfast, in a coffee shop in Le Diamant, a small community in Martinique, where many French expats have their homes. Over a coffee and croissant, Romy told me the incredible story of her life, how all she had ever wanted was to be like everyone else, and what she had done to accomplish that. The idea of the book was born.