Dream Man: Dream Weavers, #1

By Kimberly Dean

5 stars - "this book was just fantastic and I enjoyed every page, whether it was filled with drama, action, or a bit of spice" - Reader's Favorite

4 stars - "Well-told sweet and sexy story" - RT Book Reviews

 

Each night, Devon Bradshaw dreams of him – her fantasy lover. She can feel his heated gaze on her and hear his deep breaths, yet as consuming as their shared desire is, they can't connect. Until she performs a love spell.

 

Cael Oneiros is stunned when Devon appears on his cosmic plane. For months, he's watched over her as her Dream Weaver, a Greek god of dreams. As a sleeper assigned to his care, his job has been to lead the beautiful redhead into REM sleep. Visiting her each night, though, has led to deeper feelings. He wasn't supposed to fall in love with her, but he has.

 

Now every night Devon visits Cael, their connection grows – but even the most innocent of spells can have repercussions. All around town, people are acting strangely. Tempers are short, and chaos is starting to reign. Nobody is dreaming. Nobody except Devon. When her dream man shows up in flesh and blood, she has to decide if he's really the man of her heart… or the demon of her nightmares.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tiger Eye Productions, L.L.C.
• Release date: Feb 21, 2015
• ISBN: 9780984651160

Kimberly Dean

Kimberly Dean is an artist, yoga enthusiast, and #1 New York Times bestselling author. Before fulfilling her dream of becoming a full-time author and artist, she worked for the governor’s press office in the state of Georgia. Her dreams became a reality in 2013 with the release of her first children’s book, Pete the Cat and His Magic Sunglasses. She has written many books since then, including the Willow and Oliver series. Kimberly lives in Georgia with her dog, Gypsy, and cat, Phoebe.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

He watched her while she slept, a protector in the stillness of the night. His eyes were haunting as he stood vigil. They were dark, nearly the color of midnight, but so deep with longing, curiosity, and regret...

He came to her most nights, but she didn’t know his name. She’d never even seen his face. The shadows hid him from her, a thin veil that was still somehow impenetrable. As if she wasn’t allowed... shouldn’t be aware of his presence at all...

Yet she knew when he was with her.

She knew when his dark gaze lit upon her. Eyes full of lust... Eyes full of need...

Tonight, he looked down on her with a desire so intense, it made her writhe on the crisp white sheets of her bed. Heat poured through her veins, warming her from the inside. There was no reason to fear, no reason to wonder why he was here. She wanted him. In vain, she kicked off the covers, trying to ease her distress.

His eyes sparked, and his blistering gaze ran down her form. Yet he didn’t touch. He never touched. He never broke through the shadows.

But he stayed with her, as if he was caught in the magnetic attraction, too.

She slid to the side of the bed, trying to get closer to where he stood over her. Her nightgown rode high on her thighs and dipped low between her aching breasts. She wanted to see him, to know him, to find the answers to all the questions she should be asking.

Fighting against the weight of the fog, she tried to lift her hand towards him. Just once, she wanted to touch him. To connect. But it was just too much, the weight of her arm so heavy it wouldn’t respond to her commands.

The luminous light of his eyes dimmed. His eyelids drooped, and he retreated.

No, she whispered, knowing what was to come. Stay with me.

Tormented, those dark eyes closed.

And, in a flash, he was gone.

Devon came awake with a jolt, her entire body throbbing. The darkness around her didn’t change, but the feeling of it did. The intimacy was gone, replaced by... nothingness. Flinging out her hand, she turned on the lamp on her bedside table. The sudden light made a red splotch imprint on the back of her retinas, but as she searched around the room, it dimmed. Disappeared, just like he had.

She was alone. With a groan, she flopped back onto her pillow. When was she going to stop doing this to herself? When would she learn?

Her dream man was only that.

A dream.

CHAPTER ONE

I can’t believe you’re still dreaming about him, Tasha said.

Devon glanced up from the lilies she was contemplating and caught her friend’s concerned look. She should have known better than to bring up the subject, especially with Tasha, but she was starting to obsess about her recurring dream as much during the day as she did at night. I can’t either, but they’re dreams. I don’t have any control over them.

"Of course, you do. It’s your mind. Next time it happens, tell your dream self to jump his bones. Tasha gestured with both hands for emphasis. For heaven’s sake, just do the guy and get it over with."

Devon blushed and moved farther down the aisle of the greenhouse. They were shopping in a little, no-name place on the south side of Solstice. It was late, nearly closing time. With few other would-be gardeners around, the cavernous Quonset hut design let their voices carry. It’s not like that, she said in a hushed tone. We don’t touch... we can’t. He just watches.

Do you know how creepy that sounds?

It’s not creepy. Her brow furrowed. Fear had never been part of it. The dream never took on the overtones of darkness or dread.

Tasha groaned. Honey, what are you doing in that bed?

I don’t... I haven’t... Okay, maybe she’d considered it. He just makes me hot, all right?

Devon tucked her hair behind her ear. She was uncomfortable talking about something so private, but she knew there was no use trying to hide it. Tasha knew her better than anyone. They’d been best friends since grade school, and she’d never been able to keep anything from her. This has been going on for seven months. It’s making me crazy.

It’s making me worried. Dev, this isn’t natural. It’s downright eerie.

But it didn’t feel that way, not to her. It felt natural. Right. If only she could fight through the fog...

Devon stared hard at the impatiens in their little plastic seedling containers. The dream overtaking her life was unlike any she’d ever had before, and not only because it wouldn’t go away. Every time she slipped under, she was caught in a world so vivid and tactile, her senses sang. When she awoke, she remembered everything in such detail, she’d swear it had been real.

Her body certainly couldn’t tell the difference. She tended to slip so seamlessly from sleep to wakefulness; the two blended together. The resulting sexual frustration was driving her insane. If she woke one more time to find her skin sweaty, her heart pounding, and dampness coating her thighs...

A familiar tightness sizzled low in her belly, and she determinedly pushed it away.

I’ve checked out all the dream interpretation books at the library, she confessed. Dreams about eyes signify enlightenment or understanding. The way this one is recurring, though, means that I’m not confronting something.

Well, we both know what that is.

We do?

"You’re not confronting the fact that you need a date. Specifically, one that doesn’t end with a peck-on-the-cheek goodnight."

Devon glanced around quickly. The greenhouse wasn’t in the best part of town, mainly because it was so remote, and business was slow. There were only a few other people milling around, but she didn’t need them hearing about her sex life—or lack thereof. Is that all you ever think about? she hissed.

It’s been a three-month dry spell for me, too. I can’t help it if I have sex on the brain. Tasha lifted her chin and a familiar, stubborn look settled on her face. Besides, that’s why we’re here.

Oh, really? Devon got uneasy when her friend started digging into her purse. She should have known something was up. She loved puttering around in her backyard, but Tasha wasn’t the kind of woman who planted flowers. She received them in bouquets from men.

Aha! Here it is. Triumphantly, her friend produced a folded piece of paper. She opened it with a flick of her wrist. We need valerian, mugwort, and caraway. I have the cloves. Can we use some of your roses? We need petals.

My roses? Devon’s eyes narrowed. She’d inherited her house and its beds of heirloom roses from her grandmother, and she was protective of both. What is that?

The answer to all our problems.

Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like this?

Because you probably won’t. That’s why I didn’t tell you earlier. Tasha smoothed the piece of paper almost reverently. We’re going to perform a love spell.

For once, Devon was caught speechless. She was used to her friend’s wild plans, but a love spell? Before she could think of a thing to say, Tasha was picking up a red basket and moving toward the herbs section.

Wait a minute, Devon called, snapping out of her stupor. She hurried to catch up, and her long legs quickly matched her friend’s shorter stride.

We’re going to perform it tonight, Tasha said in a tone that brooked no argument. Then you can stop worrying about those pesky, unsatisfying dreams. We’re going to get you a living, breathing, real-life man.

Devon fought for her patience. Where did you get that?

The Internet. As if that was that. The be-all and end-all to sources of truth.

Tasha hefted her purse higher onto her shoulder, and her boots clipped against the cement flooring as she walked slowly, reading the labels taped on the edges of the rows of lined-up pots. Do you see the caraway?

Seriously? Devon said. "Did you ever consider a dating app? Being set up by a friend? Or—old school—the personal ads in the Sentinel? I’d let you use my employee discount."

Online dating is so hit and miss. Tasha waved the paper in her face. This will guarantee us the right guy the first time.

Devon snatched the notes away. Look me in the eye and say that with a straight face.

Tasha scrunched up her nose, and she stopped walking. Oh, come on, Dev. Stop being such a spoilsport. What could it hurt to try? We need to shake things up a bit. Even I’m in a rut.

Devon sighed. She recognized that tone. When something got into Tasha’s mind, it stuck like gum on the bottom of a shoe.

Hooking her thumb into the pocket of her shorts, she read through the shopping list. It was complete with little sketches of the items. On the surface, it seemed like nothing more than an exotic recipe. And of all the situations they’d gotten into together, the idea of a love spell was pretty tame. It wasn’t like it would hurt anything.

So why did she feel such an instinctive resistance to it? Like she’d be... cheating?

The edge of the pocket dug into the soft flesh at the base of her thumb. She didn’t believe in a million years anything would come of some silly ceremony, but, more importantly, she really wasn’t interested in meeting anyone right now. She knew no man could measure up. There was only one man who could satisfy her needs, and he wasn’t real.

And wasn’t that twisted?

She sighed. Tasha was getting more and more upset about her recurring dream. Whereas Devon looked forward to it, practically craved it, her friend feared it. If this love spell made Tasha feel like they were doing something productive, that it would shake Devon’s obsession with her silent dream man, what could it hurt? It might even help.

As long as she got to bed on time...

All right, but is this a generic love spell or can we customize it? Devon smirked to break the tension. I want tall, dark, and handsome or there’s no deal.

A broad smile split Tasha’s face, and she looped their arms together. Now you’re talking—although I’ve got nothing against blonds.

Devon couldn’t help but laugh.

Together they walked deeper into the greenhouse, looking for the herbs and flowers they needed. The stifling atmosphere made them both want to hurry. The greenhouse was kept suitable for plants, not humans, and the air felt heavy and clinging. Close. The tube-shape of the building brought on a distinct feeling of claustrophobia.

For as sunny and bright as the day had been, Devon became uneasy. The rest of the customers had all somehow left while they’d been talking. Except for a teenager watering plants at the other end of the building, the greenhouse was now empty.

Let’s get this stuff and go, she said. I don’t want to be here once it gets dark.

I know. Sorry, but this is the only place I could find that specializes in herbs. Tasha’s eyes lit up, and she picked up a pot. She scowled when it wasn’t what she wanted.

Devon frowned. Tasha had researched greenhouses? How long have you been planning this?

Let’s see... Mugwort. Her friend blithely ignored the question and strolled away. Any idea what it looks like? It sounds like a dermatological problem, but we need some.

Devon rolled her eyes. Let’s ask that worker boy.

Good idea. Cutie pie, Tasha called out to the teenager. She waved when he gave her a who, me? look. Can you help us?

The boy nearly dropped his hose. Tasha might be tiny, but she packed a punch—especially in that red miniskirt. Never one to let attention pass, she let her hips sway as she strutted down the aisle. Not nearly as overt, Devon followed along at more of a distance. Still, the kid’s gaze ran a quick sweep over her and came to a dead stop. Water splashed onto the concrete floor as he gaped. Devon was used to people looking twice at her. The auburn hair and sleek figure she’d inherited from her mother caught as much attention as Tasha’s exotic looks.

Could you tell me where to find these things? Tasha asked as she passed the teen the list. Water from the hose poured dangerously close to the toes of her boots as he reached to take it.

Oh, gee! the teen said, embarrassed. He shut off the faucet. Sorry about that.

That’s all right, sweetie. I’m used to things spurting at me unexpectedly.

Devon’s air choked in her throat. She covered it with a cough when Tasha threw her a quick wink.

The boy blushed but tried to summon a sense of professionalism. He looked at Tasha’s list, but his eyebrows lowered when he read the ingredients.

Is something the matter? Devon couldn’t put her finger on what the problem was, but the kid looked uncomfortable. Don’t you have them?

We have them. He tugged at his work apron and glanced over his shoulder. "But you’ll need to go in there."

In there.

Devon and Tasha turned. A dark, ivy-covered door stood at the very end of the greenhouse. The wood was scuffed, and the handle was so old it had attained a green patina to match its symbiotic friend. The strands of ivy had had time to crisscross and interweave, but the vines looked healthy. Hungry enough to start venturing out to the rest of the building. A shoot coming off the bottom of the door was beginning a daring journey along the baseboard. A journey or an escape? Goosebumps popped up on Devon’s skin. Tasha, she whispered.

Something was off here. Very off.

They exchanged a look, and Tasha’s eyes widened. Devon didn’t need to say any more. She didn’t get these feelings very often, but when she did, her instincts were uncanny. They’d learned long ago to trust in them.

Thanks, hon, Tasha told the teenager. Taking a deep breath, she once again looped her arm through Devon’s. How bad is it? she asked.

They’d never needed to put a name on it. It was just something that Devon had always had. Call it gut instinct. Call it foresight. Call it intuition. It didn’t matter what name was slapped on it. What did matter was that she was never wrong.

Ever.

She hadn’t been wrong when they’d both been fourteen, and she’d made Tasha skip a trigonometry quiz. A fire had broken out in the chemistry lab that class period and half the school had ended up with smoke inhalation. She hadn’t been wrong when a bad storm had flooded the first apartment they’d shared, and she certainly hadn’t been wrong when she’d told Tasha her last steady boyfriend wasn’t the right guy for her.

This time, though, it was different.

It’s weird, but I wouldn’t call it bad. Devon rubbed her stomach. As much as she didn’t like the look of that dark, ivy-covered door, she felt a pull towards it.

It’s not the good zing?

Devon shook her head. She got good impressions, too, but even more rarely.

If it’s not good and it’s not bad, then it must be okay, right? Maybe your swirly belly is just telling you that we’re about to have an adventure.

That’s all life was to Tasha, one big adventure. Devon wasn’t so sure. Part of her felt like she needed to go into that room, but another part didn’t want to. It was as if two distinct forces were pulling her in opposite directions.

Maybe neither were the right path. Isn’t there someplace else you can get these herbs?

Well, I suppose I could get them over the Internet.

Yes, there you go. Let’s do that.

Devon was heading toward the exit when she noticed the look on Tasha’s face. What? she demanded.

It’s just that we have to perform the spell when the moon is waxing to encourage positive energy. It will take at least a couple days for the ingredients to be shipped here, and even then, we won’t know if they’re fresh. Tasha shook her head and waved her hand. That’s okay. If you don’t think it’s good here, we’ll just get everything ready to go for next month. You know I trust you.

Guilt weighed on Devon. She didn’t want to ruin the fun, and the longer this went on, the less it seemed like a lark to Tasha. Her friend tended to believe in the metaphysical and all its associated touchy-feely practices, and her heart was as big as the sun. She wanted to do this for her, Devon realized, not herself. She was trying to fix the recurring dream problem, albeit in a Tasha-unique way.

Devon stopped and turned to stare down the long half-tubelike structure. The door was just a door. It was farther away now, but the pull toward it was stronger. Whatever was inside there was important. She drummed her fingers against her hip, her thumb still hooked into her pocket. Tasha was right, she didn’t sense danger, per se. This feeling was new, which was concerning in and of itself—maybe more so than actually seeing what was past that barrier. She blew out a quick breath. As much as she wanted to leave, she knew she had to go in there.

Okay, she finally said. Since we’re already here, we might as well get what you came for.

Are you sure?

A month more of those dreams? Devon caught her friend’s hand. Maybe this will give me other things to think about.

Yes. Tasha brightened visibly. Let’s make some magic.

They approached the door together, but when it came right down to it, Tasha was the one who stepped forward to open it. The hinges gave a long groan as the door swung inward. Devon felt cool air rush over her, refreshing and beckoning. At last, she couldn’t fight the pull. She stepped over the threshold, but nearly jumped out of her skin when the heavy door slammed behind them.

She spun around, her hand finally leaving her pocket to come up defensively. The room was actually a small, well-tended shed. The air was cool and dry, a stark contrast to what they’d just left. All around her, shelves held flower heads and roots drying on screens. Overhead, tied bundles of various stems hung from the ceiling, and netting was placed below to catch any falling seeds.

Her gaze finally landed upon the wizened old man chopping what looked like parsley at the kitchen-style island at the end of the room. He paid them no regard as he concentrated on the motion of his knife. It moved so fast, it seemed a blur. When he finished cutting the herb, he lifted the cutting board and scraped the small bits into a dark-colored jar. Still oblivious to their presence, he dipped his knife in the sink behind him and cleaned it. A lid went onto the jar, and at last, a prepared label was attached. Finally, he looked up.

His watery blue eyes pinned Devon where she stood. She couldn’t think of a thing to say, but it didn’t look as if it mattered. The stooped little old man was concentrating on her so hard, it appeared as if he was trying to read her mind. His heavy white brows drew together until they almost joined.

What? she blurted. Why are you staring at me?

The old man didn’t so much as flinch at her sudden outburst. Your aura, he said in a voice like sandpaper. Reds and blues and yellows. It’s very powerful.

Her mouth went dry. She had no idea how to respond to that.

Tasha stepped into the mix. Are you the herbalist?

The old man nodded.

Great, she said brightly.

Too brightly. Devon glanced at her friend. The claustrophobic, dim room was even bothering her. That said something.

Tasha set her list of ingredients onto the island and hid her shaking hand behind her back. We’re looking for these things.

For as old as the man had to be, he had the eyes of a hawk. He scanned the list and his frown deepened. Are you a practicing Wiccan?

Devon took a step back. How could he know what they were planning? Herbs didn’t automatically equate to a magic spell. They could be cooking for all he knew—but that was just it. He knew.

Uh, no... Tasha tucked her dark hair behind her ear. But we’d like—

Magic is not something to be trifled with. The old man pointed a gnarled finger at her. The potential for mishap is too great, especially for those unknowing in the arts. You will not get these items from me.

But... You can’t do that. Tasha gestured around the room. You’re open for business, and I’m willing to pay.

I said no.

No? Tasha St. James had rarely been refused by a man before. It stunned her into uncharacteristic silence.

Devon felt the pull again, and she stepped forward. Will you sell them to me?

The words came out of her mouth without thought. She had no idea why she might be any different than Tasha, but she met his gaze steadily. What little blue he had in his eyes burned.

Your power is uncontrolled, he said.

Yes, she admitted. He knew about her intuition. There was no reason to deny it, but she had to be truthful. Feelings just came over her. She couldn’t turn them on and off at will. It had been that way her entire life.

Yet you have need to perform a ritual?

She nodded. For one, she was standing up for her friend. She didn’t have red hair for nothing. They would decide whether or not

Reviews for Dream Man

[bhryk0 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Good story, lots of bedroom action.Cael Oneriros is a Dream Wreaker, descedned from the Greek Gods - by night he watches over his charges while they sleep and leads them into their dreams and by day he is a regular guy! Devon has fallen for this dream guy so she and her friend cast a love spell though Devon gets more than she expected. Cael is so busy with Devon that he neglects his other charges and the world goes heywire for awhile until he can bring it back under control.It is an interesting concept with lots of bedroom activity that's pretty hot!

[bookwyrmm_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A fun paranormal romance with a plot line that keeps moving and stays away from the totally predictable.