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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