Dreams of a Fierce Heart
Dreamwalkers, #4
by Danube Adele
Date of Publication: September 9th 2019
Publisher: Danube Adele Publishing
Cover Artist: Evernightdesign – Elle Rossi
Genre: Paranormal/Contemporary/Sci-fi Romance
Tagline: She’ll do anything to redeem her honor, including putting herself in enemy hands; he’ll do anything to stop her
BLURB
Fearless.
Some have called me impulsive, and maybe I was, much to my own detriment … at seventeen.
A social pariah in my own nation after being found in a fatally compromising position, I tucked tail and ran to Earth for study, work, and to heal my wounded heart. It took seven years for the opportunity at redemption, to earn my way back home, but it means infiltrating dangerous enemy territory. If the Brausa catch me, I might wish for a quick death.
My goals? I have two of them. Save my childhood friend, our Sunan leader’s last surviving daughter, and, get away from Nick Dylant. His deathbed promise to my older brother has him bulldozing into my life, making demands regarding my safety. He’s even found a way to force a marriage using some obscure, arcane law of old in order to protect me, but if he thinks he can force his will on me, he can think again. There is no way he’s going to control who I am or what I do in this world.
I don’t need his or anyone’s permission to steal away in the middle of the night with a disguise, a rough map, and an even rougher plan of action, because one thing is for certain: I refuse to join with anyone who sees me as a duty, not when I’ve loved Nick since I was a child. Not when I dream about his kisses and crave his touch.
Excerpt
Nick stared at me in silence for a few moments, his gray eyes roaming my face briefly, searching for something. Whatever he saw prompted him to say in an undertone, “You need a keeper.”
My voice sharply cracking the air between us, I snarled, “You had no right to run him off. You had no right to threaten him with a beating. I saw what you put into his mind. Who the hell do you think you are?”
The only hint that he heard what I said was a slight narrowing of his eyes for the briefest of seconds. Then he turned his attention to the drink Greg had bought for me as though it were tainted. He completely ignored my outburst. “You aren’t going to drink that.” He made it a blanket statement. Firm. Like he had the right to do that.
“Wanna bet? Who’s going to stop me?” I hadn’t planned to drink it, considering my allergy. That is, until he’d told me not to. For some reason, he had the ability to piss me off on sight and give me childish thoughts of violence. Like, how much fun would it be to throw the drink right in his face? Again, I envisioned the complete shocked surprise that would transform his expression, his stormy eyes wide, his brows and lashes dripping with the sugary, citrus cocktail.
“I’ll stop you.” Casually, he grabbed the drink and set it on the tray of a passing waitress who barely noticed.
Fury burned like fire in my gut, but I hid it behind a cold smile. “You think I can’t go buy a drink when I want one? I can walk myself over to the bar and order whatever the hell I want, Papa Bear. Last time I looked, I was an adult woman with her own money to spend. I’m not a gods damned child.”
There was no change of expression. The grim look that seemed permanently etched on his face remained, but I did note that a muscle twitched along his square jaw, the only sign that I was getting under his skin, which gave me a hit of satisfaction. Then his full lips thinned, compressed into a tight line before he bit out, “Why the hell are you bent on causing a problem?”
“I’m not your problem. I’m not
forcing you to stay. I didn’t ask you to do anything. You’re welcome to go
finish your playdate with Ryder as far as I’m concerned. I didn’t invite you to
sit at my table.” My own heart, acting like an innocent bystander, stuttered
with dismay at my harsh words. It ached, squeezing painfully against my chest,
but I needed to desensitize it. My heart was not in charge. It hadn’t been for
years. If I was really going to move on, this had to be part of my therapy.Nick stared at me in silence for a few moments, his gray eyes roaming my face briefly, searching for something. Whatever he saw prompted him to say in an undertone, “You need a keeper.”
“And
if I did, it wouldn’t be you, Papa Bear.”
“Stop
calling me that,” he snapped. “I’m not trying to father you.”
“The
hell you aren’t. I’m having a perfectly nice time with a good guy, and you come
stomping over and puff out your chest. You don’t have the right to tell anyone
else whether I have plans for the night, and you sure as hell don’t have the
right to threaten a guy with violence because he’s into me.”
“What
does it matter? It’s not like you can date him. You don’t live near him.” He
didn’t deny any of it. Wasn’t the least bit repentant.
I
gave him my best, wicked smile, knowing this would thoroughly piss him off.
“Maybe I just wanted to have sex with him. Sometimes, a girl needs a little
skin-on-skin. Some body heat.”
His
blue eyes turned glacial, flicking over the bodice of my dress where I’d grown
more cleavage since my seventeenth year; his nostrils flared, and anger put a
snarl to his words. “And we all know you aren’t shy about propositioning
yourself.”
My smile never faltered when his
poisonous dart hit the bullseye, but I had no control over the long-ago
humiliation that washed my skin in violent, crimson shades, which he noted with
a sudden frown, like he was about to take it back, but screw him. Throwing that
in my face after all this time made my heart clench with a sense of betrayal. I
kept my voice as light as I could, trying to brush it off. “That’s right. I did
offer up panties to you long ago. I’d forgotten about that. How embarrassing,
right? Because I’m like your sister.” I almost pulled it off but for the last
word. My voice cracked, and the feeling of utter foolishness, something I was
all too familiar with in relation to him, left me exposed.
BLURB
Danube Adele wrote her first romance at the age of seven when she penned the story of her dogs falling in love and having puppies. She’s been dreaming up romantic tales ever since. A lifetime resident of southern California, she spends time playing at the beach, camping in Joshua Tree National Park, and hiking Mammoth Mountain. Always a lover of adventure, she and her husband took their sons on a cross country road trip to Florida and back in an old VW Westfalia, that had no A/C, in the month of July, and still, it continues to be the best trip they ever took. Extensive travel and trying new things has kept the creative spark alive. Danube lives with her biggest fans, her loving husband, amazing and wonderful identical twin sons, and a teddy bear of a Rottweiler.
The Book Junkie Reads . . . Interview with Danube Adele . . .
What are some of your writing/publishing goals for this year?
My writing goals are to find ways to be more productive this year. I have a contemporary, One Breath to the Next, that’s the first book in a series I’m temporarily calling Hermosa Beach Memoires. I also have two holiday novellas that I would like to self-publish during Christmas, along with a few others.
Do you feel that writing is an ingrained process or just something that flows naturally for you?
My favorite moments are the ones that spark organically in my mind from some outside force that tickles my thoughts. It’s the “what if” question where you see a girl performing on a high wire at the county fair and immediately create a plot that explains what forces in her life could have gotten her there and what she’ll do when she leaves the show. Maybe you see a coffee barista and know that they have a secret double life, but what could it be and what reason do they have for continuing this daytime farce? I love the mental “what if” fantasy experiments because they nearly always lead to something wonderful.
There are so many things to love about writing, and while plotting out a book has its place in my productivity as well, what most excites me is letting that new scene play out in my mind. A few books I’ve written have begun because I was inspired by an imagined meet-cue or some character keeps shouting dialogue at me, like it’s going to get me to move faster and write their story. I literally hear voices in my head, but I will say that I’m aware of them, aware that they are not actually alive, and there’s no reason to call in a professional. I’m totally fine. I think.
I have an idea book, various notebooks, and the note app on my phone that are all filled with short scenes, quick summaries of a character’s background, and multiple plotted books. I’m not sure I’ll get to realize all of my ideas, but I’m sure going to have that frustrating fun that all writers get to experience while trying.
You can find other books in the Dreamwalker series, Quicksilver Dreams #1, Dark Summer Dreams #2, Dreams of a Wild Heart #3, at www.danubeadele.com
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