Today on First Kiss
Friday, we welcome author, J.J. DiBenedetto, and an excerpt from his Paranormal
Mystery with elements of Romance, “Waking Dream (the Dream Doctor Mysteries,
Book Four).”
After nearly a decade of visiting
other people’s dreams, Sara Alderson thought she had made peace with her
supernatural gift. Until one night, while watching her husband dream, she saw
someone else watching him, too: a mysterious woman in a red dress.
The woman in red keeps appearing in the dreams of Sara’s husband and his co-workers. Sara doesn’t know if this mystery woman is trying to steal her husband, drive him mad or something even worse. All she does know is that now she has something she never imagined: a nemesis. And the only thing more dangerous than a nemesis who shares her ability to step into other people’s dreams, is one who knows far more about that ability and how to control it than Sara does.
The woman in red keeps appearing in the dreams of Sara’s husband and his co-workers. Sara doesn’t know if this mystery woman is trying to steal her husband, drive him mad or something even worse. All she does know is that now she has something she never imagined: a nemesis. And the only thing more dangerous than a nemesis who shares her ability to step into other people’s dreams, is one who knows far more about that ability and how to control it than Sara does.
First
kiss excerpt
Part
one…
I need some water before I can properly fall asleep. I get up, open the door and tiptoe out, down
the hall, to the stairs. But there’s
already someone downstairs, and – I don’t know why – I stand perfectly still
and silent on the top step.
It’s Grace, pacing back and forth near the front door,
looking quite impatient. I don’t know
why I don’t call out to her, but some instinct is telling me not to. A moment later, there’s a hand on my shoulder,
and I look up into Maggie’s tired and windblown face. They must only have gotten back from
nighttime skiing a few minutes ago.
“I was looking for David,” she whispers into my ear. “He’s been in the bathroom downstairs for a
while now.” And now I think I know why
Grace is pacing, and why in that particular spot. I put a finger to Maggie’s lips. We both hear a door open, and then David
comes into view. He’s heading straight
for Grace. Of course he is.
He stops about six inches away from her, right under the
mistletoe. They stare at each other for
a minute or two; it’s too far away to judge the expressions on their
faces. Finally, in response to some
unspoken signal, they come closer – closer – then their lips meet. The kiss lasts for just a second, and they
spring apart like a pair of repelling magnets.
But then, after another minute or so, they come closer again. This time, Grace puts her arms around him,
pulls him tightly to her. Then she grabs
his hand and places it – oh, God, I can’t believe she’s doing this! – on the
back of her neck. She holds it there,
exactly in the spot that Brian always touches me. The spot that makes me swoon when it’s
touched just the right way. And now
she’s running her hand through his hair; again, just the way I do with
Brian. They do say that children copy
their parents.
She tilts her head slightly to the side and goes in for
another kiss. This time it’s much more
serious, and it lasts a lot longer.
They break apart again, more slowly this time, and it’s hard
to be sure with the distance and the dim light, but I think they look more
confused than anything else. I turn away
to look up at Maggie, and her face is unreadable too. “Go back to your room,” I whisper
fiercely. “Don’t let them see us!” I follow my own advice and scamper back to my
bedroom, closing the door softly behind me.
Brian’s looking confused.
“Where’s your water?”
“I got distracted,” I say, and I listen until I can hear
Grace’s bedroom door open and close before I go back to bed and join
Brian. I wonder if I should even tell
him, at least right now. Obviously I
can’t keep it from him – she’s our
daughter, not my daughter. But I don’t
want him to overreact. We’ve talked
about the subject a little, and – probably because it’s always seemed like just
a theoretical discussion about something that’s not going to come up for years
and years – we’ve always both been calm and reasonable about it. But that’s theory. When a real boy has his actual hands all over
our daughter’s physical body – even if neither of them had any idea what they
were doing – I’m afraid calm and reasonable may go out the window.
“By what?”
I can’t keep it from him.
“Our daughter’s first kiss.”
Part
two…
I let myself drift back…
…This isn’t
right. Mom and Dad think that Mr. and
Mrs. Montgomery are home. They have no
idea that Belinda and her brother Vince are home alone, and they definitely
have no idea that Vince is throwing a party.
I don’t know why I’m even here. I
don’t want to be at a party with a bunch of juniors and seniors I don’t even
know.
We’re sitting in
Belinda’s kitchen, just her and me. “So
how big is this party supposed to be?”
Belinda shrugs her
shoulders. “You know Vince. It could be a hundred people.” A hundred?
Now I really don’t want to be here! But I don’t want to leave Belinda
all alone. She’s my best – my only close
friend at school. I can’t ditch out on
her.
Here comes her brother
now, with one of his friends, a short, stocky guy I think I’ve seen in the
corridors at school. They’re each
carrying two cases of beer – I wonder which one of them has a fake ID, or maybe
they got somebody to buy it for them?
They set the beer down on the kitchen table right in front of us, and
open one of the cases. “Here you go,
ladies,” Vince says, handing Belinda and me each a can. I don’t want – I’ve never even had beer
before!
But everyone else is
opening theirs and toasting each other.
I – I don’t have to, but Belinda’s my friend, right? I open mine, salute them and take a sip. I barely swallow it down without spitting it
out; how does anybody drink this stuff?
Belinda doesn’t like it much more than I do, but she forces her beer
down, and I follow suit while the boys laugh at us.
“Hey, Belle, why don’t
you put out some food?” She’s told me
she hates being called Belle, but she’s not going to get her older brother to
stop doing it anytime soon. I go to help
Belinda set out several bowls of chips, and then she goes up to her room to
change. That’s all I need – not only
will I not know anybody, but I’m going to look like crap compared to everyone
else. I thought my sweater was cute, but
I’m sure Belinda will be back downstairs in five minutes with an outfit that
puts me to shame.
And I can’t even
borrow anything from her – she’s only a couple of inches taller than me, but
she’s at least three sizes bigger. Oh,
well. As I watch her go up the stairs, I
see something hanging from the ceiling at the foot of the staircase. Mistletoe.
I start to wonder who
hung it there when there’s a hand on my shoulder, and I turn to see Vince. He’s not much taller than Belinda, but he
seems bigger somehow, or maybe that’s just my imagination. I can smell the beer on his breath; we’re
only a few inches apart. He’s looking up
at the mistletoe, too. He puts an arm
around my waist and pulls me still closer.
I let him; he is cute. And I’ve never had an older guy show the
slightest interest in me before. Is this
why he didn’t complain about Belinda inviting me? Does he have a – a thing for me?
He’s leaning in
towards me, coming closer. I tilt my
head up to meet him, I close my eyes, and I feel his face just an inch from
mine, then his lips are touching mine, and – I – God! I go limp, I don’t respond, but I don’t have
to; his lips and his tongue are doing all the work – then from out of nowhere
there’s a voice. Belinda’s voice, loud
and shrill: “Jesus, Sara! Get your
tongue out of my brother’s mouth!” And
then I feel her hands on my shoulders, pulling me away from Vince.
I don’t look at her; I
run straight into the kitchen, grab my coat from the back of the chair, and I’m
out the back door before anybody can say another word…
“Waking Dreams” is available
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