How about another sneak peek?

I'm almost done with the first draft of my novel. I got some really great and useful feedback from my beta readers (thank you so much, guys), and there are some more reviews to come. The next step will be padding out, altering the syntax, tweak and smoothing out - the hardest part of writing. 

Hope you enjoy this excerpt:

Getting up early might win you extra hours, you thought and set the alarm on 5 o'clock. The result is that you are too tired to think. After the drain of working on both jobs, energy has gone out of the window. A nap would be wonderful.

Unfortunately, not the best idea you had since forcing your eyes open this morning. You look at your desk, scanning the surface. The mug with the remainders of coffee and an overfilled

ashtray effusing the disgusting smell of cold smoke, are witnesses of your presence all day.

You get up, take them to the kitchen, empty and clean both, then return, the steam of a hot beverage now heading toward the opened window. The fresh air might just be what you need. Soft summer rain plays a familiar melody on the palm trees. You close your eyes.

Every time you hear this sound, you are distracted, its wonderful calming effect lets your mind wander off into another world. It transports you away from reality, the stress and decisions you procrastinate to make. Though you are not a dreamer, rain is your element.

And while you listen to its quiet drumming, you think of your favourite place you spent so many days in the past few years: the one on the island, the beach where you go when you need to think or want to write. Where you can be alone on this overcrowded planet.

Without any sign or warning, she appears, sharing your daydream. Her mesmerising gaze on you, wanting you to follow her invitation. 'If only I would be strong enough,' you whisper. She smiles, still holding out her hands. 'Don't worry, you will be safe,' she answers.

It feels good to have her here, to see her relaxed features, friendly, caring and full of love. You are in your own little haven, cocooned by the warmth of the one person you would share your deepest thoughts with, share your soul. 'Don't be afraid,' she says.

'I want to,' you reply, 'but I can't move. Like in concrete, your feet are firmly connected to the ground, no matter how hard you try to step forward to get closer to her, the distance doesn't lessen. 'I won't hurt you,' she says, then, with an ear-shattering noise she disappears.

You suddenly open your eyes widely, sit bolt upright, limp arms hurting. You nodded off. And when you pick up the ashtray from the floor, you wish you wouldn't have been brought back, wished you would still be with her, without the fears your dreams have exposed.