Saturday, February 11, 2012

Sneak peek!

I'm doing a quick survey: who would read on after this page?

Dreams only make as much sense as your state of mind.

What did it mean, then, for me to keep returning to that same dream for a month and counting?

The one where the annoying woman kept asking me to help them. The question of who they were aside, how was I supposed to do anything? I was the crazy girl people whispered and pointed at in school. I couldn’t even help myself.

Then there was the carnival. It was always night-time in that carnival. It had no name that I knew of, but it was ablaze with lights that never stopped dancing, alive with music that never stopped playing.

In that dream, I saw only the boy. People milled about, but they were only faceless figures. So was the boy, in fact, but his features were only slightly clearer.

I had never even met him before, but every time I saw him in my dream he was perched on the edge of one of the Ferris wheel’s capsules. He stood there for barely two seconds, a sea of carnival lights blinking beneath him, before he threw out his arms and dived off the Ferris wheel.

Always, I was too late. Too late to stop him, too late to even call out for him. Don’t! I wanted to say. But the word would die in my throat as I watched him plummet through the cold night air and finally crashed to the ground.

And then the lights go out totally. The music stops.

That’s when I’d feel the hands reaching out for me. Cold and clammy, tugging, wanting, needing – what, I didn’t know. A glance down and I’d see a mass of bodies lying at my feet, turning blue with each horrible second.

I would still be able to feel those hands on my skin, my ankles, my neck, even when I sit up in bed and discover that I was being straitjacketed by my sheets.

It was always that same dream. It had been that dream for a month. I didn’t know where I came up with a dream like that. A dream that didn’t sleep, that roosted there right in the middle of my head long after I’d woken up.

A dream where it was always midnight in a carnival of monsters.

This, by the way, is the first page of my first ever complete urban fantasy novel, THE DREAMCATCHERS. Thoughts?

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