Spotlight & Giveaway: Have We Met? by Camille Baker

Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author Camille Baker to HJ!

Hi Camille and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, Have We Met?!

Please summarize the book for the readers here:

Corinne has just lost her best friend, and in response moves back to Chicago, where they met as children. Shortly after, an app appears on her phone, claiming Corinne has met her soul mate and will do her a solid – send four people she’s already met as potential soul mates. While she reconnects with people from her past, she also connects with a new guy, tempting her to ditch the app altogether. With the help of her family and new friends, she attempts to rebuild her life in a new city and make sense of an unexpected love life. It’s a love story with a touch of magic, and it’s very inclusive and cute!
 

Please share the opening lines of this book:

Bessie is trying to kill me.
It’s the only explanation as to why she’s behaving like this. Two months ago, she handled the sixteen-hour drive from Houston up to Chicago like the champ she is.

Please share a few Fun facts about this book…

• One scene required me to take a trip to the Field Museum to time how long it takes to get to the dinosaur statue outside – but when I got there it was blocked off because of Covid. I went around the barriers though, in the name of research.
• For one sad scene in particular (hint, in gazebo) I listened to Love is a Losing Game by Sam Smith on repeat until I finished writing it.
• I had the initial idea for this book in 2014, but didn’t figure out how to implement it (an app!) until 2019. Then, I wrote the first draft for NaNoWriMo.

Please tell us a little about the characters in your book. As you wrote your protagonist was there anything about them that surprised you?

The cast is comprised of a diverse group with varying outlooks on life. I enjoyed writing the scenes with Corinne’s family and the ones with her new friends the most. I learned much about Corinne by how she interacted with those closest to her. Nothing really surprised me while crafting her; she felt like a well-known friend.

If your book was optioned for a movie, what scene would you use for the audition of the main characters and why?

Though I’d be tempted to find a scene suitable for a chemistry read with the romantic interest, I have to go with a scene that includes the entire friend group since they’re so important to the story. This shows their dynamic so well.

The phone rings in my ear.
“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” I mutter.
The three-stall restroom smells slightly of bleach under the potent tropical scent puffing out of the wall-mounted air freshener. I stand in front of the double sink, checking out the basket of toiletries. One of the stalls is occupied, but I can’t worry about being overheard right now. In the past, I was able to use sign language to communicate covertly with Joelle. I could still video call Lito, but I don’t think he would be helpful for this type of advice.
Tiwanda picks up on the third ring.
“How was it?” she asks right off the bat. The audio quality is like listening to someone talk on an airplane. I put the volume up as high as possible.
“It’s still going. Maybe. Quick question: Should I sleep with him?”
“Yes!” says an emphatic voice that’s not Tiwanda and very much Elise. I chose to call Tiwanda because out of the two of them, she would give the soundest advice. Now I have a demon on one shoulder and an angel on the other. Jury is out on who gets which role.
“You’re on speaker in my car,” Tiwanda belatedly explains. “Is he nice?”
“He’s nice to everyone.”
“That’s not a bad thing,” Elise says.
“You think he’s the one Met sent for you? Your soul mate?” Tiwanda asks. I don’t have the time or wherewithal to argue the legitimacy of Met right now. It’s beginning to feel futile to resist.
“I dunno. But a test drive could help. Ew, sorry. I take that back.”
Tiwanda and Elise cackle. To my right, a toilet flushes, and the stall door jostles open. The woman shoots me a conspiratorial look as she gets a pump of hand sanitizer in lieu of washing her hands. I’d normally judge, but I’m happy to continue my call in private.
“As long as you think it’ll be fun, go for it,” Elise says. “I’ll show you his portfolio when we get to Tee’s. High school ex is hot. Might be your type, Cory.”
I start to point out Anthony being a strong match is the reason for this conversation when a curt, baritone voice speaks from what must be the back seat of Tiwanda’s car.
“Doubt it,” Cory says, emotionless.
I freeze. My brain is too foggy to rapidly process why learning that Cory is listening to this conversation has me flustered. For some reason, I don’t think it’s shyness about my sex life.
“I gotta go,” I say.
“Wait!” Elise shouts. “What are you going to do?”
I groan as I occupy my hands, taking an oil-blot paper from the basket and pressing it along my T-zone. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll figure it out once I get there.”
“Let’s have a vote. Who thinks Cori the Second should get laid tonight?” Elise asks.
“I don’t approve of this name.” I shake my head at my reflection in the mirror.
Elise ignores me and continues. “I’ll start. A definitive yes. Cory the First?”
I swear I can hear his sigh through the car’s Bluetooth. “If she’s considering a vote, she shouldn’t be with him anyway.”
“All you had to say was no,” Elise says. I can imagine her turning around to shoot him a playful glare. “All right, Tee. You’re the tiebreaker.”
“I agree with Cory. Ultimately it’s your decision—you know that. But for what it’s worth, I vote yes.”

What do you want people to take away from reading this book?

You know that magical, eerie feeling you get when you think about how much we (humans) don’t know about the universe, about life? It helps me remember anything is possible. I hope that feeling, specifically, is what people takeaway from the book. Well, at least a few people.

What are you currently working on? What other releases do you have planned?

I’m working on a companion novel to Have We Met? that also works as a stand-alone. I’ve been looking forward to writing it for a long time, but it comes with many challenges!
 

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: A finished print copy of Have We Met? by Camille Baker 

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Excerpt from Have We Met?:

I groan as I wake up, turning and kicking at the thin blanket tangled around my legs, nearly falling over the side of the firm bed. A bed much firmer than the one in my apartment—the one my mom insists is terrible for my back.
I scan the room and recognize my coat hanging in the corner, which helps to jog my memory. I’m still at Tiwanda’s. Low voices sound from the other side of her closed bedroom door. Is the party still going on? I pop up out of bed so quickly, it makes my head spin and thump a warning.
“She’s risen!” Elise says as I emerge from the hallway and into view of where she’s lounging on the couch in pajamas. The space is much different from the cluttered mess I remember from the party. There’s no trash lying around and no excess of people.
“Finally,” Tiwanda says. She’s leaning over the bar counter that separates the kitchen and the living room. “Do you want some Tylenol? A green smoothie?” She holds up the blender, an offering and an explanation of why I awoke abruptly.
“Both,” I say. “How long have—” The clear plastic bag filled with rice on the counter makes me stop short. I hurry over to it. “Is that my phone in there?”
Hazy memories flood me, the most prominent of which is my phone flying over the balcony.
Elise joins me at the counter. “Good news is the screen wasn’t broken. Bad news: I suspect the puddle broke its fall.”
The sound I make is closer to that of a wounded animal than a human.
“My neighbor told me you were going down the back staircase outside. He was worried; it gets slippery out there when there’s rain or ice. Anyway, I went down after you. Almost busted my ass for you, cuz.”
“Me too,” Elise sings. “I was the most sober one of the three of us. Figured I’d have a better chance finding your phone.”
“Thanks,” I say, poking the bag of rice with my finger. “What actually happened?”
“Well, I didn’t really have to do much. When we got down there, you were sobbing over the puddle.” Elise twists her lips to the side. I don’t know if she’s grimacing or trying not to laugh.
“Girl, I thought the lightning was going to get you before we could,” Tiwanda says, shaking her head.
“How long has it been in there?” I ask.
“About ten hours. You should leave it for at least twenty-four hours, but forty-eight would be best,” Elise advises. As if, I think.
“I don’t have time for that. I need to check on my car, and I’m hoping to get called for a temp job next week.” I break open the bag of rice to make sure none of the grains made their way into my ports. They’re clear, so I press the power button and wait.
Tiwanda places two glasses of green smoothie on the bar surface. Elise takes one and slides into the seat beside me. The logo fills the screen—a good sign. But it lingers, taking forever to prompt for my passcode. I take the pills Tiwanda gives me and listen passively as she and Elise talk about all that happened last night and this morning. Apparently, six other people had to spend the night and were spread out between the guest room, the living room couch, and the inflatable bed Tiwanda keeps in her storage closet. The three of us shared Tiwanda’s bed. I vaguely remember hitting what I thought was a large body-shaped pillow. Even the king-size mattress was a tight squeeze for us.
My phone’s screen changes, and I jerk in my seat. It’s now flashing the dead-battery symbol. Shoot.
“Can I borrow your charger?” I ask whoever responds first.
“You sure? There might still be water in there,” Elise says. But she’s already pushing herself off the stool and toward where her phone is plugged in beside the couch. She unplugs it and hands the charger over. As a precaution, I blow into the ports of my phone like it’s a dusty Nintendo 64 cartridge.
“If you get electrocuted, the medical district is a few blocks down Taylor Street.”
“We’ll drive you there so you don’t have to pay the ambulance fee,” Tiwanda adds.
I scoff. “I’m not going to get electrocuted.” I think. Tiwanda and Elise stare in dramatic anticipation as I plug it in. My phone vibrates the moment it’s connected, the buzz making all of us jump.
Elise chuckles, her pitch rising a note from the shared nerves.
The charging screen goes away, and my phone powers on. Tiwanda leans across the kitchen counter to see better. The background picture of me and Joelle, taken a few Halloweens ago, fills the screen. Our outfits referencing popular memes of that year usually make me smile. But now, I tap the screen, willing my apps to populate and cover it. I don’t want to answer any questions about Joelle. One day, I won’t equate coping with avoiding bringing her up in regular conversations, but that day isn’t today. My usual apps appear with a flash, then disappear and are replaced by a single option. Right in the middle of the screen.
“So it’s working. That’s good,” Tiwanda says and returns to her side of the bar. She begins to rinse out the blender.
“I don’t know, this is weird . . .” I swipe my screen a few times, and it appears to move, but the same app remains in the middle, no matter how many times I try. Its logo is a hot-pink icon with a white heart-shaped cutout. I lift the phone to my face to read the short name across the heart: Met. I don’t recognize it. “Did anyone download an app on my phone?”
“Would that have occurred before or after you flung it into the puddle?” Tiwanda says offhand.
Elise takes the phone from my hand and adds, “Let me see,” as she pushes the screen to open the app. “It’s working.” Her face scrunches up. “Fingerprint and face ID required,” she reads off the screen. “Maybe it’s a banking app?”
“I don’t even have face recognition. Ugh, I can’t afford a new phone right now.” My mom is already paying my first four months’ rent to slow the depletion of my savings. No telling how much my car is going to cost to get fixed. My phone makes a noise—the short, deep tone of denial.
“Access denied,” Elise says, sliding the phone back to me.
Maybe I downloaded it and forgot. Or . . . “Maybe it’s a virus that’s installed to steal our biometrics. Fingerprint and facial recognition, in this case.”
Tiwanda shoots me a look full of skepticism. “Your phone already has all that. Never mind the shitload of cameras that have seen your face.”
She’s right, of course. I sigh and press my finger to the scanner. It shouldn’t work, because if I don’t remember downloading the app, I sure as hell didn’t take the time to set it up. Plus, the storage space remaining on my phone has been at warning level for a while. In last month’s purge, I had to delete half my apps, including the science-and-technology-terms-in-ASL app featuring my brother as a model signer.
I feel the slight tremor of my fingerprint being accepted and then hear a shutter sound as my camera undoubtedly captures my image. I gape at it but don’t have time to feel properly bewildered that this app accessed my camera without permission, because a moment later, the screen goes white. Across, in script font, a welcome message appears:
Welcome to Met, Corinne.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
 
 

Book Info:

After losing her best friend to cancer, Corinne’s life is in flux. She has moved back to Chicago, is considering her next career move (or temp job), and has absolutely no time to look for love―until a mysterious dating app called Met suddenly appears on her phone, and with it, an invitation for Corinne to reconnect with four missed connections from her past. One of them, Met says, is her soul mate…

Corinne doesn’t believe the app for a second, but when she very quickly finds herself with back-to-back blasts from the past, she’ll have to consider if maybe she’s wrong about it. The thing is, Corinne’s also been introduced to a really great guy outside the app’s influence. As their feelings for each other grow, Corinne has to wonder: With her apparent true love still out there, should she tap yes to the next match?

With help from a new group of friends, her loving if annoying family, and maybe a touch of fate, can Corinne come to terms with the loss she’s still reeling from, take control of her career, and find love along the way?

Book Links: Amazon | B&N |
 
 

Meet the Author:

Camille Baker earned a bachelor’s degree in finance from The Ohio State University. There, she took sign language classes for fun and wrote stories during business classes that didn’t hold her interest. After graduating, she completed the interpreter training program at San Antonio College. Camille now resides, interprets, and writes in South Chicago. For more information visit www.camillebaker.com.
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