Read Something To Dream On Online
Authors: Diane Rinella
Something To Dream On
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locals is entirely coincidental.
All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles, essays, and reviews.
Copyright (C) 2015 Diane Rinella
Cover art copyright (C) 2015 Diane Rinella
Cover art and design by Heidi “Azurylipfe” Darras
Cover model Janna Prosvirina
For T-bird, who makes my words fly.
Acknowledgements
Something to Dream On
was not only inspired by my childhood experiences, but also by a recent event that happened to a dear friend. How a grown man can claim to be mature and then go online and harass a sweet woman because of the gifts God gave her is beyond my comprehension. Worse, it was done in code, much like a child would do, yet it could not have been more obvious at whom the joke was aimed. Within a few days, work on this book began. Thus, I’d like to acknowledge those who inspired this story: The victims who stand strong.
On a much happier note, thank you for allowing my words into your heart. Many of you are reading this because you enjoyed
Scary Modsters … and Creepy Freaks
, a story that is far more personal than anyone imagines. Maybe you dared to dive into controversy and read
Love’s Forbidden Flower.
That story means the world to me but not nearly as much as the people that it brought into my world. I love each and every one of you.
A special thank you to my Modster Squad, a small but dedicated group who choose to tolerate me. Heaven help you! Seriously, your support means more than I can express.
To my beta readers, N. Stevenson Jennette III, Brian Preston, and Dione Marks. Thank you for not sugar coating it. You are gold!
The biggest thank you of all goes to Trenda Lundin who is an amazing critique partner and friend. This story could in no way be what it is without her honesty, love, and support. She helped me see what these characters needed to pop off of the page and land in your hearts.
The cover is the creation of Heidi “Azurylipfe” Darras, who can be found at
Autumn Davis and Jessica Baker, thank you for taking a chance on me when so few were willing. Most of all, thank you for your friendships. You probably have no clue why I am saying this, but you two gave me the confidence I needed to push forward and keep going. Seriously. For reals.
A special thank you to all of the bloggers who have supported me over the years. Bloggers bust their butts without personal gain and often without a word of thanks. Please know that all of the love you have shown this author is appreciated.
Being an author is incredibly hard work. Some days you can’t help but wonder if it is worth the stress. That’s when you cherish the ones who support you on a daily basis more than ever. Jennifer Theriot, I will be your proud partner in crime any time and in any place. I look forward to years of us starting our conversations with the words, “I just had a great idea.” Those conversations always lead us down the craziest roads, and I am ready for more adventures. Darla Roybal, please don’t ever stop stalking me! However, I would really appreciate it if you would stop breaking the branches in my tree. Your life would be much easier if you would just use the key I left you.
Last, and in no way least, my husband, Brian Preston, and our daughter, Trishalana Rinella Preston. Brian, how we constantly manage to love each other through all of our crazy projects bewilders me. Thank you for always understanding when I need the world to go away so I can let my creativity flow and embrace my madness. With you I can be a wife and mother while staying true to myself.
“You have to give people something to dream on.”
~ Jimi Hendrix
Sticks and stones may break my bones, but your words can forever scar me.
ONE YEAR BEFORE DESTINY
Tuesday, April 5
If a psychic yanks you by the arm, forces you into a seat, and states that you “arrived just in time”—all without even looking at you—should you panic? That just happened to me, and I am a little weirded out.
Griffin made this appointment so he could get advice on his stinky love life. Since I am just tagging along, the experience is now all kinds of freaky. Plus, the psychic looks like Angela Lansbury on
Murder, She Wrote
and calls herself The Amazing Zolta. This can’t possibly go well.
Zolta clasps her hands together. The widening of her eyes complements the broadening of her smile. Does she always get this excited over roping people into readings? Just how much is this going to cost?
“Take five cards from anywhere in the deck. Place them before you on the table, any way you want.” Her fingers dance above a red tablecloth, encouraging me to scatter the cards. Her liveliness reminds me of a Bugs Bunny cartoon.
Griffin and I exchange smiles. Part of me has always felt psychics are full of malarkey. However, I do believe that there is more to the universe than what we see. That is why I am so weirded out over Zolta’s sense of urgency to get me in this chair and actually hope it is just a scam.
From the one-third mark, I cut the deck and grab a stack of cards off the top. I set three of them like the points of a triangle. That seems off, so I use the two left in my hand to turn it into an arrow. Griffin tilts his head. He’s right; it still feels wrong. I slide the two cards on the side down to form a diamond with one card in the center.
“Why did you make the change?” Zolta asks.
“I don't know. Instinct, maybe?”
“Good, good, good.” She studies the spread with raised brows.
The card at the top of the diamond is called The Star. A cluster of little stars, along with a blinding, yellow one, hover above a woman pouring water. It’s a peaceful scene, and I know this interpretation is totally wrong, but I can’t help but feel sorry for the poor woman who is being hit in the head and is seeing sparks.
On the sides of my diamond are two other women. One of them is upside down and has a bird on her wrist while the other sits on a throne. Am I the one with the bird? That would make sense since I’m a vet tech and live in a farmhouse where I am Mom to a pen of chickens, two dogs, and a pig. The one on the throne has a rabbit at her feet though.
A hand holding a coin dominates the bottom card, but I am more drawn to the garden in its background. It reminds me of that recurring dream.
Oh, no way.
In the center of it all, lightning strikes a building, causing people to plummet to their deaths. Once I absorb the power the card depicts, my stomach drops with the victims.
“Fascinating …” Zolta utters. She reminds me of how concerned my mother sounded when my scrawny brother announced he wanted to join the football team. Where did all of Zolta’s excitement go? ”Something is going to happen that will shake up your world. This Star,” she taps on the top card, “it is a card of hope, but …” Her attention turns to The Tower. She raises a finger to her pursed lips and taps. “Sometimes glory can only come through loss. Some kind of battle is going to happen. These two women on the sides hold the key to the outcome. The reversed Nine of Pentacles shows someone who is lacking, while the Queen of Pentacles represents a person of true compassion.” Her eyes meet mine, and I am certain that I look like a cartoon ghost—sheet white with black voids for eyes. Zolta pats my arm. Why do I sense she is offering comfort? “Fear not, dear girl. This Ace of Pentacles at the bottom is the best card in the deck.”