The story started as a dream. It took forty-seven years to become a book.
Alessandro Giusti writes speculative fiction at the intersection of myth, science, and hidden history.
The Draconari Saga began as a dream. He was nine years old the first time it came to him — without warning, without explanation. Over the following decades it kept returning, growing more complex, more detailed, more insistent. Characters arrived. A world took shape. By the time he was fifty-six, the story was too complete to stay only in his sleep.
He decided to put it on paper.
Born in Brazil, Alessandro has lived in Ireland for many years. The Draconari Saga is his debut series — a five-book epic that asks what happens when an ancient warrior civilisation lives quietly among us, and what it costs to be the last one who remembers who they are. All five books exist in both English and Brazilian Portuguese. The World Companion expands the universe for readers who want to go deeper.
The first dream. A boy in a glass room. A man who wasn't entirely human. No explanation. No context. Just the dream, vivid and strange.
The dream keeps returning. New characters appear. The world accumulates detail. The prince gets a name. His daughter arrives. The military facility fills in. The history of a planet destroyed thousands of years ago.
The story reaches critical mass. The five-book arc becomes clear. The invasion, the declaration, the ocean at the end. The story stops being a dream and starts being a manuscript.
The Draconari Saga is written, complete, and published. All five books plus the World Companion. In two languages. The dream is finally on paper.
The series follows Caelus Ignar — last full-blood male of the Draconari species, heir to a throne he never wanted, survivor of a military childhood that would have destroyed anyone else. A man who wants nothing more than to be left alone, and is constitutionally incapable of looking away when someone needs protecting.
The books move from intimate to epic — from the glass room of Facility 7 to the declaration in a city square, from a borrowed bedroom in a detective's apartment to the ocean at the end of the world.