My new book is out, and I’ve been dying to share it with you. This is Dreams of a Fierce Heart, Book #4 in the Dreamwalkers series, and it’s all about Cynthia and Nick’s story. She’s fed up with trying to play by the rules, and he’s determined to do everything he can to keep her for himself.
This all began with my first book, Quicksilver Dreams, and the wonderful characters, Taylor and Ryder, who walked me through my first creative writing process. They were very patient with me while I figured everything out from the bottom up. There is a fantastic interview about this first book at:
https://manybooks.net/featured-authors/danube-adele-sci-fi-action-and-a-lot-of-romance
Manybooks has been a wonderful hosting sight for adds as well as promoting me for an author spotlight. I hope you add them to your list of sites to check out, and hopefully, find your way there. And now for the excerpt! Please have a read and let me know what you think. You can find the book links below.
Prologue
Step one, be spontaneous.
Check.
He had no idea what was coming, since I’d transferred into his bedroom secretly.
Step two, be confident and enthusiastic.
Check, check.
The article said confidence was sexy and a way for your man to become addicted to you. I loved the sound of that, and wasn’t I here? Ready to be adventurous? Ready to show him he was the one for me? I had this covered.
Step three, wear something he’s going to want to rip off you.
Check, check, and check.
I actually looked womanly, maybe not in a Marilyn Monroe, spilling out of my bra cups, voluptuous sort of way, but in a sleek, athletic way. For the first time in seventeen-and-a-half years, I was totally ultra-feminine and not like a young boy.
My legs were miles long, covered in white thigh highs that were attached to a white garter belt with delicate pink bows. A matching pink thong framed my butt, my surprisingly rounded butt, considering I was taller than average and had been unavoidably thin during my adolescence. Pink, lacy demi cups gathered my breasts in soft silks, giving me the best cleavage I’d ever had in my life. No one would call me busty, but there was a small handful of soft-looking, milky skin peeking up over the cup of my new, secret lingerie. Wasn’t it a waste to have too much?
I read that in the article, too. It had been in the magazine Couture and was titled “How to Keep Your Man Satisfied.” Olidia and I had pored over it, cover-to-cover, which was also where I’d seen a vintage picture of Marilyn Monroe, my new feminine icon. She’d become my new obsession, my need to find all things Marilyn an added goal in my search through secret smuggled products transferred from Earth on the black market. It was rare that we were able to come upon such fantastic finds in the Sunan Market Place, but we knew who to see for the pirated loot.
The prevailing culture amongst the citizens within the capital city of the Sunan nation, Milak, was harshly reserved and overly protective of the women. All I knew was that mindset somehow came from a horrible tragedy. So things like my lingerie and the magazine definitely had to be snuck in with a shipment from Earth of other goods. At this point, I had the article memorized.
My pose was picture perfect. I was reclined on Nick’s oversized bed amid the soft sheets and plush blankets, surrounded by the warmth of his masculine cavern décor. A light, delicate citrus lotion perfumed the air since I’d slathered it over my body, and I’d been careful to use minty mouthwash. Everything was ready, including every nerve ending on my body.
I took a deep breath. A surge of feminine power was making me feel bold. That and the instant, powerfully liberating reaction of my body to the small amount of alcohol I’d consumed—no more than a half cup—had me suddenly feeling like this wasn’t just a good idea; it was a great idea. Already, my skin was doing a strange, stimulating, tingling thing, and I had to fight the urge to rub my legs along the soft blankets.
In an out of the way, closed off, dusty compartment of my mind was the knowledge that what I was doing was dangerous to my reputation and to my family, but I was just as equally certain there was no way I could be found out in this. And with the sweet, delicious effects of the alcohol, durma, circulating through my system, only the thrill of the moment had adrenaline pounding through my body. There wasn’t even a hint of worry or fear of discovery. In fact, I decided durma was my new favorite beverage as my body buzzed and warmed from its effect. It rejected all things negative, so the world felt floaty, safe, peaceful, and filled with happiness where nothing bad could occur.
Everything was going exactly as planned.
According to the article, if I’d done everything right, Nick wouldn’t be able to help himself. He was supposed to get an eyeful of me, then come across the room and…well…I wasn’t exactly sure. Kissing and touching would be involved. I hadn’t done this before, but it was going to be great. Amazing. It was going to be the start of something beautiful. Earth-shattering. Life-changing.
When Olidia—my good friend and co-mastermind of nearly all things mischievous that we got in trouble for—had expressed concern at the end of the celebration, small fits of doubt had begun poking me sharply in the gut. Her voice sounding more timid, hesitant even, and with eyes rounded with some alarm while watching me drink the durma, she’d asked, “Are you sure this is the right thing to do, Cynthia? It just seems that maybe this is a big decision to make on your own, without him knowing, just because you were both flirting with each other tonight.”
I had an instant mental block, rejecting her words. She didn’t understand. This wasn’t just about our flirting earlier. This was a night years, years, in the making.
It was because I’d worshipped him from afar, watching from secret hiding places when he came to our home when I was a child. As my oldest brother’s good friend, he was always around. Though he was nearly ten years older, he was always kind and patient whenever he caught me peeking out, giving me a smile and a wink. He was as beautiful as I imagined the gods being: tall and broad, golden-skinned from secret excursions to the lake, but with hair as blond as my own.
Once, he brought me a flower from the lake. It was pink with soft petals, and he presented it to me secretly, touching a finger to his lips like it was our little secret. My little heart soared. For weeks I rode that high. I stuck the flower in the pages of my school reader. I’d been eight at the time. To this day, I still had it.
It was because of the way he touched me only two weeks ago in the Market after an absence of years. His pale, granite eyes, rimmed in dark slate, snapped to mine with a hint of confusion the moment our hands touched in a simple greeting. The look on his face made my heart jump; it was like he was seeing me in a new light after all this time. His golden brows had drawn a sharp V over the bridge of his nose, all the while hot tingles danced a path up my arm, making me shiver with a feeling I’d never before experienced.
Had he felt it, too?
The question had balanced precariously on my tongue, ready to spill forth, but had become frightened and slid back into my throat, frustrating me, though I’d maintained a serene smile.
He hadn’t been back from Earth for years, not since my oldest brother died, and was likely as surprised to see me at the Market Place that day, picking out fresh fruit from the new shipment for my mother. He’d called to me hesitantly, maybe unsure of who I was, and reached out to shake my hand. Here’s where it got even more interesting. With new, stimulating tingles still racing up my arm, he’d looked down at our clasped hands like he was trying to puzzle out the sensations while his thumb slowly rubbed a caressing circle on the skin around my knuckles. My heart had skipped a few beats, but I tried to keep my breathing regulated, like nothing special was going on.
You’re all grown up, Cynthia.
A lot happens in seven years. I was proud of that comeback. My voice had sounded a bit deeper, sort of husky, more like a woman. How are your studies going?
They went fine. I finished recently. Now we’re working to discover and map where the mylunate ore is located on Earth.
Sounds like a big job. Mylunate was the substance that allowed us to travel instantly, not only short distances, but also millions of light years between planets in just moments. It was powerful. Its side effects allowed those of us in Sunan who grew up surrounded by rich deposits of it to mindread and dreamwalk, or enter the dreams of another person. With enemies vying for this resource, knowing where it was located, and controlling those areas, was crucial.
It is a big job. He nodded his head, withdrawing his hand slowly from mine. You look beautiful. I almost didn’t recognize you. I guess I still expect to see you with pigtails.
His deep voice poured over me like warm rays from the sun on a lovely spring day. I gave him a small smile. Things change.
The memory faded, but my smile grew.
Tonight was happening because this evening, I’d looked around the ballroom, scanning the crowd of people all enjoying the annual Spring Celebration, to find him already watching me from across the room, his beautiful eyes narrowed on me, like he was still trying to figure me out, was caught by some strange, invisible dark energy. I couldn’t look away. Olidia was chattering in my ear, pointing out this person or that person’s formal wear, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him. He was wearing a dark dress suit, shoulders broad, looking tall and strong, his eyes created a link, something personal between just the two of us.
Nick. Always Nick.
He’d come across the room with deliberate, unhurried steps, never breaking eye contact. He’d bent to my ear and told me in that rumbly voice of his that evoked the tickling feel of fizzy bubbles popping in my stomach, that I looked lovely. Then he’d placed a kiss on my cheek, the memory of which still had the ability to make my heart beat erratically several hours later.
I’d felt elegant and sophisticated. My mother had relented when I’d begged to have the evening gown for the event. A dark chocolate that set off the gold in my lighter, toffee-colored eyes. It was strapless, fitted and with a slit that flashed some length of my calf—not much—within the flaring legs of the gown that could almost pass for a skirt. Women didn’t wear skirts in our culture, which didn’t make much sense to me. It seemed like I remembered a time when we used to.
In that moment, with his lips near my ear, Nick asked me to dance. For the rest of the evening, we talked and laughed, danced, and flirted. The scent of him became part of me, the freedom to lay my hands on him divine. It was like a dream made real. We were a unit. It was like we were on the same wavelength, our thoughts parallel to each other in so many ways. We understood each other.
I learned more about his experiences on Earth, the process of identifying mylunate, and the painstaking process of mapping it. He was working in a place that had an ocean. I was eager to hear more about it. I told him I wanted to study marine life in Sunan and be able to compare it to oceans around the universe. I loved the ocean, lived within the ocean in a sense, considering where we lived in Reethan. Spent most of my time there. He had questions for me, was interested in knowing more. My heart was smiling with a feeling of exhilaration. He was giving me all his attention.
Then the evening had come to an end. He told me he was going back to Earth the next day and kissed my cheek. There was a hint of sadness there. I’m sure I saw it reflected back at me. It felt like goodbye. My heart ached, knowing it might be years before he was in Sunan again. When would I ever have the chance to share my feelings for him? Maybe knowing my feelings would bring him back sooner and more frequently. My heart burned to hold him here, tighter, longer.
And because I wanted more, something that could stay with me longer than just this light flirtation, I made the decision to surprise him in his bedroom after the ball. This was right. I knew it. I wanted him. And he was a man, not a boy. He was used to more than just a handshake from his women, I was sure, and I had a plan to be his woman.
Starting tonight.
I’d waited all my life for this. This was the gods telling me it was time. It made sense that we were fated. That’s when I grabbed a cup of durma, our national alcoholic drink, and took a few sips for courage, ignoring Olidia’s panicked warnings, fully aware that I was playing a risky game with a dangerous substance, something that my body reacted to chemically. It fired me from the inside, making a burning path through my veins, turning me lightheaded and exhilarated instantly, and shutting down the inner voice that questioned this decision.
With some reluctance, Olidia gave me a cover story for my mother under the condition that I would be careful and give her all the details in the morning. A giggle tickled my lips as I thought about it, looking around his room. This was going to be a night I would never forget. Ever.
Blinding blue transfer light filled the room, bringing me back to the moment. I looked down to protect my eyes from the brilliant illumination, my heart jumping in my throat. I could hear it pumping fiercely, nearly drowning out my own thoughts. When I looked back up, he was there…with another woman wrapped in his arms.
Nick. With another woman. Her hands were locked around his head, threaded through the blond locks that I’d coveted while his hands were cupping her more than ample bottom, pulling a thigh up high on his hip. They were grinding against each other.
The pain was harsh, stabbing, cutting through the alcoholic effects in an instant. Who knew your heart could actually feel like it had been physically damaged? What…
I must have gasped, because he jerked away, and it only took a fraction of a second for him to see me on his bed and go from lust to fury.
What the hell do you think you’re doing?
I could only shake my head, unable to comprehend who this angry person was when just an hour before, he’d been charming and playful. How could he?
Cynthia? Oh…gods! You have a thing for children, Nick? A peal of feminine laughter rang out across the room, startling me out of my confused stupor. He’d come home with none other than the evil bitch who’d plagued my life for years. Playing dress-up, Cynthia? The cups will fit in a few years. I hope.
The heat crawling up my neck was inescapable.
Raya, a few years older than me, bosomy, exotic and vicious, capable of shredding a fragile feminine ego in nothing flat, had smeared her lipstick over his mouth, obviously having been invited to do with him what I’d been planning to do tonight. Somehow, it looked obscene. It was the clear-cut evidence that he didn’t want me. There was no way to filter the tide of humiliation that engulfed me, from the tip of my toes all the way to the roots on top of my head. I almost felt like my body was burning with embarrassment.
What are you doing here? Nick growled, pulling away from the wretched she-beast.
I thought, after tonight…I hated that my voice was so hurt, but it was. I couldn’t control it. I didn’t have the sophistication to play things off.
What about tonight? I thought we were friends.
Friends? How absurd. When had we ever been friends? We danced all night.
I told your brother I’d watch out for you. He made me promise before he died. I only wanted to make sure you were doing well.
He made you promise? The ball of emotion burning my throat threatened to choke me.
His eyes scanned my body and grew cold. What are you thinking? You’re a child, Cynthia. Besides that, you’re like—he raked fingers through his short hair—you’re like a sister to me. The sister I never had.
Oh, poor thing. Raya covered her mouth but still let out another giggle. She was getting all kinds of enjoyment at my expense. There was an evil sort of glee to her excitement, her eyes suddenly calculating. You have us lining up for you Nick.
I started pulling the sheet up for cover, wanting nothing more than to die on the spot, but pride had me pushing it aside instead. I stepped out of bed as gracefully as I could, flipped my long blond hair back with one of my hands, and struck the Marilyn Monroe pose from the magazine I coveted, with my hand on my hip, knowing that if nothing else, I would leave with some dignity intact. A shade of innocence had been ripped away from me, but I’d never show it.
His eyes widened, did another, quick, reluctant scan. His lips tightened as he met my gaze. I cocked my head to a flirtatious angle and gave my best coquettish Marilyn Monroe smile. In a husky murmur, I said, My mistake.
