WYNTER’S FALL
(WYNTER TALES, Book I)
AUTHOR: Laurel Cremant
GENRE:
Modern Fairy Tale Romance
LENGTH: Novella
PUBLISHER: Winged Moon Publishing
BLURB:
An unsuspecting mortal, A Keeper of Dreams, And a group of Gods intent on reclaiming powers they no longer deserve... Melania Wynter has a big problem, the man of her actual dreams is becoming all too real. Determined to gain back some control over her life, she hopes that a a little vacation will be enough for her psyche to stop comparing her real life to the vivid dreams she's had since childhood. But one patch of ice, a solid pine tree and a nasty bump on the head derail her plans.
Daiomone, Keeper of Dreams has always been drawn to Melania. He's bided his time, waiting for her to cross-over to his realm, but manipulative God's have interfered in unexpected ways. With a helping hand from fate, he must go to Melania and keep her safe.
Together they must navigate the wilderness and survive both the cold and trouble-making Gods.
EXCERPT:
“Melania, you
need to snap out of it.”
She tensed as
Daimone’s voice filled her head again. Reaching up, she touched the throbbing
knot on her head and moaned.
It was
official. She’d finally gone off the deep end. “This is so not happening.”
His deep
chuckle resonated through her mind. “Ignoring me won’t make me go away.”
She huddled
tighter against her drawn up legs.
“Trust me. I
know,” she mumbled.
He was a major
contributing factor in her need for rest and relaxation. Her trip had been a
last ditch effort before she threw in the proverbial towel and saw a therapist
regarding her little problem.
However, now
thanks to a stupid patch of ice, her brain was scrambled and her dream man on
the loose. Somewhere on WebMD, there must be a section dedicated to her
current condition. It would be a perfectly descriptive affliction that fit her
every symptom to a “T”.
Ohshititis—hallucinations
and hysteria brought on by extreme situations and chronic bad luck.
“You need to
get moving, love.”
Why
not just go with it?
Considering her circumstances, she was, after all, due for a little hysteria.
“Well, excuse
me if I want to take a moment to recover from a death-defying event here.”
“The storm
is coming closer, love. You have to get moving.”
Lifting her
head, she peered up into the thick veil of snow falling all around her. She
blinked rapidly as a flurry of snowflakes drifted down on her face with, she
was sure, a type of maniacal glee.
“The clock
is ticking, Princess.”
“First of all,
you are so not the boss of me. You’re not even real. You’re just a
figment of my imagination.”
“We really
don’t have time to discuss this right now.”
“Wait, I’m
still unconscious, aren’t I?”
She glanced
back at her car, partially expecting to see a specter of herself slumped over
the wheel.
His long sigh
drifted through her mind. She could almost feel his breath tickle the nape of
her neck.
“Why do you
always have to be so stubborn?” he responded.
She scrunched
her brow at his words, refusing to be badgered by a figment of her imagination.
Considering the state of things, her choices were either unconsciousness,
insanity, or worse yet, admitting that she was well and truly screwed.
She opted for
unconsciousness.
It must be the
only thing that explained the presence of Daimone’s voice in her head. For as
long as she could remember, she’d dreamed of him. He’d appeared in her dreams
even as a child. In the beginning, he was a child just as she’d been. But as
the years passed, he’d aged along with her.
Sometimes,
months would pass between his visits, but even when she dreamed of other people
and things, she’d felt him watching her in the corner of her mind. He’d been
her secret companion, her solace for years.
Her cheeks
heated as she thought of how he’d also become other things to her. It began the
night she’d returned from her family’s summer vacation at the beach. She’d only
been fifteen at the time and missed frolicking in the sun with friends. That
night, she’d dreamed of lying on the beach soaking in the sun.
Daimone had
appeared and sat down next to her, nudging her playfully in the ribs. She’d
opened her eyes, and for the first time, noticed the breadth of his shoulders,
his strong jaw, and twinkling blue eyes.
A flash of heat
had raced across her flesh as sunlight had kissed his golden skin. For the
first time, she felt the urge to kiss a boy. Her body had yearned to touch and
be touched.
Her lips
quirked as she thought back on that dream. She’d acted on impulse then. She’d
reached up and pulled him down to her, pursing her lips onto his. He’d yanked
away looking surprised, but she still remembered the way she’d tingled at the
touch of his lips on hers.
She rarely saw
him in her dreams for several years after that. He would appear as a passerby
or random face in a crowd, but never played a starring role. Not until her
parents died several years after she completed college did he become a
reoccurring feature in her dreams again.
“As much as
I love this little jaunt down memory lane, it’s time to make a decision.”
His voice had
lost its calm tone and held a definite edge of irritation.
“I’ll make
this easier for you. You’re not unconscious, you’re not crazy. So that leaves
only one option.”
“Don’t say it,”
she said.
“You’re
fucked, love, and not in a good way.”
She groaned.
Of course she was.
BUY LINKS:
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/wynters-fall-laurel-cremant/1117786927?ean=2940148910886
ABOUT LAUREL CREMANT
Laurel is a romance author, who like most writers loves to read.
Her first love (pun intended) has always been romance. From the sappy YA
romance novel to the more risqué erotica novels, Laurel is a sucker for a good
love story.
Laurel writes paranormal and contemporary romance and is a
self-proclaimed, out of the closet nerd. She admits that she can't seem to
avoid adding a bit of "nerdology" or "geek-dom" to all of
her books. Living in Miami, she also admits that she can't seem to avoid giving
her heroines gorgeous shoes, "In Miami, we worship everything strappy,
open toed and just plain hot!"
AUTHOR WEBSITE & LINKS
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