Meanmna: Book One of the Daearen Realms Read Free Page B

dream. I took a deep breath. “Who are you?”
    He smiled and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Yep, he works out. He chuckled and looked over at me like he could hear my thoughts. I blushed and looked down. Wait a minute! This is my dream. I looked up. “I asked you who you are.” That sounded much more confident than I felt. God, I’m even a wuss when I’m sleeping.
    “You really need to stop putting yourself down,” he said. “Also, for the record, you are not going crazy. This is all normal . . . well, mostly normal.” He smiled.
    God, he has a great smile, I wonder how many years he had braces? I had to two cycles over five years and my teeth aren’t that good. Why do I keep looking at his lips?
    He laughed again. His hair looked almost black and was run through with dark red. His eyes were dark green, his lips totally kissable. “If you would like me to stop hearing what you’re thinking, you should probably wake up and talk to me. I’m the guy sitting in your back seat.” He winked, and disappeared; I started yelling to an empty space.
    “My backseat? What? Oh wait! That’s right; there’s a telepathic axe murderer sociopath sitting in the backseat of my car, waiting to chop me into little pieces. I’d rather stay asleep for that! Thank you very much. Get it over with already; I’m already crazy. Just finish me off!”
    “I’m not an axe murderer sociopath , and I have already told you that you’re not crazy. Wake up, please. I’d really like to talk in person, on your plane.” It sounded like he was right next to my ear. His voice was oddly soothing in a Barry White or grandpa sort of way.
    “Ok.” I closed my eyes, but nothing happened. I waited a couple more seconds and reopened them. “Um. Still here. Am I supposed to be doing something to get out of here? You mentioned a plane?” Looking around, my eyes suddenly felt very heavy. I closed them again.
    My face felt cold and wet and was pressed cockeyed against the window. Great! Yay me! I’m sure I’m looking super-hot with my face smashed against the window and drool running down my chin. I can’t wait until these pictures land on Instagram.
    I lifted my head off the glass and heard the deep voice from the backseat say, “Well, I’m not going to put any pictures on Instagram or Facebook, or any videos on YouTube. I promise.”
    “Please don’t kill me. Take whatever you want.” I grabbed my purse and whipped it over the seat without looking.
    “Didn’t we just go over this? I do not have an axe. I am not a sociopath. You are not crazy. And, we really need to talk . . . Sarette? Please look at me.”
    I slowly opened my eyes but didn’t turn around. “Dreams are not real,” I whispered, and started repeating a mantra. “This is not real. This is not real. This is not real.”
    “Sometimes dreams are real, Sarette,” h e said softly. “I promise I am not going to hurt you. Please turn around.”
    Was he pleading? Why would an axe murderer beg to see me? I slowly turned around and gasped. There he was!
    “It’s you! ” The man of my dreams, I mean, the man in my dreams, in not of. He chuckled and looked straight at me. “Are you still reading my mind? Because you need to stop. There’s a lot going on up here.” I pointed to my head while making the crazy sign. “I don’t even know who you are and you know my thoughts! That takes a lot of nerve. I don’t remember inviting you into my head.” I’m rambling! Stop talking! Why is he smiling at me?
    “Sorry, I won’t read your mind anymore , now that you’re ready to see me.” He paused. “Well, you’re going to see more strange things. But for now, we need to talk about—”
    “Who are you? What is going on? This is it, isn’t it? The moment I realize I am totally and completely insane. I’m a paranoid psychotic, aren’t I? You’re a figment of my imagination , here to help me understand my craziness.”
    “For God’s sakes, Sarette! You are not