Excerpt:
The hairs on the back of Melissa’s neck stood up, and she turned, catching the gaze of a muscular dread-locked man.

“Kellen.” His name was on her lips before she realised she knew it.
 
“Nyssa.” He reached out a hand. “Care to dance?”
 
She accepted his hand, not even considering the strange name he had called her, and let him pull her into the circle. As she locked hands with the man on her other side the group moved, stepping silently around the large central bonfire. A woman began to sing, the sound buzzing in Melissa’s ears, then vibrating through her body as one by one the others joined in, their steps speeding up with the rhythm of the song. The group spiralled around the fire, faces jumping and flickering in the light of the flames as they spun around the circle. Melissa’s head felt light, but just as she thought she could dance no longer they stopped and fell to the ground, spent.
 
She felt Kellen’s hands on her and turned, allowing him to pull her into his embrace. Her body shivered as his fingers ran down her sides, one hand moving to the small of her back, the other between her shoulder blades to pull her close. His mouth was on hers and she responded hungrily, thrusting her hips forward as desire coursed through her body.
 
“Nyssa…”
 
A shrill ring pierced the night, and Melissa jolted awake. “Dammit!” She fumbled for the phone, knocking it off the bedside table and onto the floor as the sharp tone continued.
 
“Hey,” she said bringing the phone to her ear.
 
“Morning, sweetie! Here’s your wake-up call. I’ll be over to pick you up in a half hour.”
 
“Tom. Yeah, sure, thanks.” She squinted at the clock, waiting for her sleepy eyes to focus. Five thirty A.M. Ugh.
 
“Just think, another couple of hours and we’ll be in Tasmania!”
 
“Yeah, not long now.” She forced herself to sound upbeat, though she felt anything but.
 
Nyssa. The voice from her dream echoed in her mind and she shook her head.
Nyssa? Why did the name feel so… right? Kellen’s face appeared in her mind and Melissa found herself melting at the thought of him. Shoulder length brown dreadlocks framed silver blue eyes and a strong chin. The bristle covering the lower half of his face only added to his masculinity. In addition to the well-formed face was a body to match. He’s hot! She sighed. If only he were real!
 
Melissa had a quick shower, wondering about her dream. It wasn’t the first she’d had of Kellen. She’d met him, in a dream, several months earlier. As with most dreams the details were not all clear, but a person who was familiar to her in dream – though unknown to her otherwise – had introduced them and the sparks had been quick to fly. Kellen had taken her on picnics, joined her on bushwalks and given her an electrifying first kiss.
For a time she’d wondered if these were dreams of the future. But when she discovered Kellen had enormous green wings she was fairly certain she could rule out that possibility.
 
She’d always been a dreamer. Since she was a child she’d dreamt of what was to come and she’d been able to interpret the dreams of others and tell them what their future held. It had not taken long for her to learn that such a skill was not always appreciated, losing friends who thought she was a freak, scary or just plain weird. But never before had she had a series of dreams like she was having now.
 
As Melissa dried herself, her thoughts returned to Tom. Good old dependable Tom. Tom was not a dreamer, in any sense of the word. He knew what his future held. His life had been planned out for him, if only along the lines of what was expected by society: finish school, get a job, earn his promotions, get married, have children. It did not fit with Melissa’s idea of the future, which was filled with a million uncertain possibilities, each one abandoned or cemented in place by each decision she made. Tom was a good man, she would not deny that. But was he her good man? Their relationship had been strained for too long now and Melissa could not help but feel that there was something else, something that called to her, if only she could grasp it long enough to figure out what it was.
 
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