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Wednesday, 26 March 2014

Excerpts From Dreams Of Desire By Cassie Wright




Julian steps up next to me and takes my hand. I thrill at his touch. The cobbled street flickers around us, and then we are standing at the top of an impossibly tall cliff, the city gone, a waterfall cascading down riotously past us, great trees filling the horizon. The sun is full in the sky, and I look up, drinking in its rays. It’s been cold for ages already in Brooklyn, and the sheer golden power of the sun is intoxicating.
“The job of a pilot is to fulfill the fantasies of the passenger.” I can hear Julian perfectly over the roar of the waterfall. I want nothing more than to soak in the sun. How did he know I missed it so much?
Slowly the warmth fades, and when I open my eyes, we are in a dimly lit restaurant, the smell of delicious food filling the air, wealthy patrons talking in hushed tones as waiters whisk past us silently. “They come to us asking for their dreams to be made true, and we make it so.”
The restaurant disappears, and we are floating a mile above the earth in a sailing ship made of glass. I gasp and grasp Julian’s arm, and he smiles and places it around my waist. I look straight down, through the glass contours of the ship and see fields and small towns passing slowly below. Our shadow drifts over them. I look up, and see a sail made of white roses fill with the wind and move us through the sky. It’s so beautiful my heart aches, so impossibly real that I want to cry. I turn to Julian, and he smiles, and for one impossibly wonderful moment we share a look of private joy, and all his walls come down. In that one moment, I see Julian unguarded, truly himself, and I want nothing more than to be with him on this magical ship forever.
Then the ship flickers, is gone, and we’re in a bedroom, sumptuous and intimate, a king sized bed dominating its center, the covers thrown aside, the air warm, with some distant music playing from another room.
“Any fantasy. Whatever the passenger requests, we comply, and for that they pay us whatever we ask for.”
I feel my heart start racing again. Julian’s standing right beside me. All thoughts of clouds and waterfalls flee my mind, and I can’t help but want him to step closer. His arm is around my waist, and I can feel his fingers lightly pressing my hip. There’s strength in that arm, in those fingers, enough strength to have stopped Ethan cold. He could lift me up with ease, carry me to the bed with but a thought. Throw me on it. Tear my clothing away.
I feel my face burn. I try to think, to gather my thoughts. “Any fantasy?”
“Any.” He turns me around so that my back is to him, and steps up so that his mouth is against my ear. When he speaks, it sends an electric shock running down my spine and makes my knees weak. “Whatever they ask for, we provide. We make their dreams come true. We bring them happiness, delight… pleasure.”
I close my eyes. I had thought the room large but now there is only Julian standing behind me, and I lean into him, I can’t help it, can’t control it. His words drift through my mind, and I hear what he’s saying but I can’t put meaning to them. His hand slips around my hip, pulling me closer, and I feel a pleasurable ache begin to build between my legs.
“All it takes,” he whispers, each word sending a thrill through my heart, “Is the ability to conjure those dreams. You have that ability, Jessica. I know you do. More so than anybody I have ever met before.”
My skin is so sensitive to the touch that when he moves his hand up my arm it feels like trails of fire are being left behind. I groan, and then suddenly the world flashes painfully white, there’s a vast spinning, a tumbling descent into chaos, madness, and the room is gone, torn away, and I’m back on the couch staring with incomprehension into Rach’s wide eyes.

Excerpt #2, Book 2

Julian turns his horse around, and I can tell that his stallion is impatient, wants to run. It tosses its head but Julian handles it smoothly. “Now. Are you ready?”
“Ready? For what?”
“For what comes next. Come on!” He turns his stallion to face the cliff and digs his heels into its flanks. His horse rises up on its hind legs, hooves kicking the air, and then falls into a gallop, bursting forward. I almost scream. Julian races right up to the edge of the cliff - and then leaps - and sails forward and out of view.
I can’t believe my eyes. I just sit there, blinking like a fool. All I can hear is the sound of the wind and distant songbirds. My horse stirs restlessly beneath me, and I soothe her with my hand. Follow him? Leap over the edge? I can feel my heart pounding. I swing a leg over the saddle and slip to the ground, wrapping the reins over the pommel. I bite my lower lip and walk to the edge of the cliff. There’s nothing below. Just distant trees. Had he crashed down through the canopy? No. He couldn’t have.
That’s when it truly hits me. This is a fantasy. A shared dream. This isn’t real, and what he’s done isn’t suicidal, just mind blowing. I can do this. I can leap over the edge of the cliff on a perfect white horse, and not be afraid.
It’s easy enough to say. Standing there, feeling the cold wind against my cheek, smelling the distant forest, it seems all too real. A test, I realize. He’s seeing what I’m capable of. I take a deep breath and walk back to my horse. She whickers and leans her soft nose down into my neck, and I rub her cheek and scratch under chin. She’s beautiful. I look in her great eyes and see a gentleness of soul that makes me feel connected to her.
“Are you ready?” I’m asking her but the answer wells up from my heart: I am.
I climb back up and sit confidently in the saddle. I won’t deny that I’m terrified and exhilarated all at once. My mind may believe this is a dream, but my body is fully in it. Adrenaline is flooding through me, and my vision is focused on one narrow spot: the cliff’s edge. I picture Julian’s stormy eyes, and then kick my heels into my horse’s sides and she bolts forward.
Her hooves pound into the rock. She’s not even remotely afraid. I lean forward, narrow my eyes against the wind, and hold on tight as she surges up and leaps into infinity.

Excerpt #3, Book 1

“There’s Jace.”
He doesn’t have to point him out. There’s one guy there that’s clearly the alpha male, and that’s got to be him. I don’t know what I expected. A monster? A hulking beast? Someone crude, a caricature of a mob boss? Jace is beautiful. Beautiful in the way a black panther is gorgeous, sexy, and absolutely dangerous. Even from here I can tell he radiates menace, a promise of violence, though he’s doing nothing more then sitting back in an armchair, one booted foot up on the table before him, half listening as a beautiful girl talks to him, lips to his ear.
He could be a model. His face is angular, his hair shaved down to a fine stubble, his cheekbones harsh, his lips soft. In the red light of the room I can see that he’s covered in tattoos, but they’re as beautiful as he is, radiating down his arms like Maori war paint, and as we walk closer I see more ink over his knuckles, and a words printed over his right pectoral muscle and disappearing under his shirt as if his chest were a page. I can’t help it - I want to know what words a man like this would emblazon on his flesh.
“Jace,” says Eric. His voice barely carries past the loud music. “Can we talk?”
Jace looks past Eric at me. I feel my stomach tighten into a ball and the hairs on the nape of my neck stand on end. Oh my god, why did he have to be so incredibly gorgeous? Why couldn’t he have looked like a thug, and made this easier? I try to remember that this man has had others killed, mangled, brutalized. That he’s a criminal, an amoral psychopath and he’s got Tommy in his sights. I try as hard as I can, and despite it all, I see amusement enter his eyes.
He gestures, and we step forward. A couple of guys vacate the seat to Jace’s left, and we sit, Eric closest. I lean in to hear.
“This is Tommy Ford’s sister,” says Eric. I restrain the ridiculous urge to give a little wave. “We’ve come to talk about the debt he owes you.
“We know he owes you big. You know he doesn’t have the money. Neither do we. We’ve come here to promise that we’ll take responsibility for raising it. We just need more time.”
Jace considers this, and then shakes his head. “Two weeks.” His voice is low, but I can hear it past the music. “That’s the deal.”
I see Eric’s jaw grow tight, and several men around us stir. Jace doesn’t move a muscle.
“You know he doesn’t have the money. Making an example of him won’t bring you the money any faster. If you give us a little more time, we’ll make sure you get paid.”
Jace shakes his head slowly, but now he’s looking at me. Openly. Something subtle changes in his features, and the amusement in his eyes grows dark.
“Or,” says Jace, “Jessie here can agree to pay the bill with a different coin.”
Different coin? Eric stiffens, anger flushing his face, and I try to understand. How else could I pay for seven hundred grand?
“Come on man. Quit joking around.” Eric’s voice shakes under the strain.
“I’m not joking.” Jace slides forward, sitting up, the movement smooth and powerful. “I’ll waive the seven hundred grand if she spreads her legs, right here, right now. What do you say, Jessie? You love your brother that much?”
I can’t speak. Revulsion floods through me, and I shake my head. “No,” I whisper. I don’t know if he can hear me. “I won’t do that.”
Jace smiles, and it’s a savage expression. “Of course, seven hundred grand is a lot of money. Just servicing me won’t cut it. But I’d say you’d cover the whole deal if you do every man in this room too.”

Eric’s grip on my hand is crushing. “Jessie,” he says, not taking his eyes off Jace. “Run.”

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