Wake Me When It's Over (book excerpt)

Kathryn asked me to publish a chapter of each of my novels. Since I have seen several discussions here in the last few days about empaths and psychics, I thought I would start with Wake Me When It's Over, since it deals with a psychic dream.

Short Synopsis:

When Nicole Whittingford's nightmare about Tony Mordano's murder shows up on the eleven o'clock news, she wonders how much of her dream was real, and if she has the information needed to find his killers.  Before Nicole can convince anyone else (including Rosie Lawrence, who tries to collect reward money by turning Nicole in) that she had nothing to do with the boy's death, she must first convince herself.

Experience several awakenings with Nicole as she sorts through her life and her dreams, searching for explanations to her mysterious situation

Chapter 1

I ached from shivering and the alarm wore on my nerves worse than an early morning phone call on the first day of vacation. But I couldn't move to alleviate either problem. I awaken in stages, and hadn't yet reached the level of consciousness where I could connect actions to thoughts. I lay frozen and powerless, wondering what had happened to our routine.

Todd usually shot from the bed like an expelled torpedo to shut the alarm off before my brain even registered the sound it made. I slept in flannel pajamas and socks, and pretended it didn't bother me to sleep in a room where a polar bear might request a transfer to the Bahamas. We both failed our routine miserably that morning.

I peeked over the corner of my pillow and saw that Todd wasn't in the king-sized bed with me, nor was he stretching in front of the mirror. Some mornings I woke to watch the muscles in his back come to life. More often, I stayed buried under the covers, but I still knew where he was and every move he made, step by predictable step.

I closed my eyes and wished the clock were close enough for me to reach it. That confirmed my original position. I couldn't wait to tell Erin.

Erin McCalley shared every major event in my life, so I couldn't exclude her on the day we moved, even if Todd considered her an intruder. She unpacked the clock and innocently asked where we wanted it. That question nearly split us up before we spent the first night in Todd's new home.

I wanted to keep the clock on my nightstand. I knew I wouldn't get up if it were across the room. Todd said it belonged on the dresser so we would have to get out of bed to reach it. He insisted, I cried, and Erin laughed. He promised to take full responsibility for hearing the alarm, and for waking me.

That clock reminded me of the many differences in our personalities and habits, and I was worried that our relationship would never survive us living in the same house. Todd consoled me by explaining that opposites attract because they compliment one another.

He said that his structure would organize me, and that maybe my spontaneity would encourage him to let his hair down a little. I smiled, wishing he had some hair to let down. I preferred long hair to his clean-cut style.

Eighteen months later, Todd still wore his hair too short to let down, and this was the first time he had strayed from his routine. Instead of celebrating his breakthrough, I lay there in a semi-conscious state, scared; and confused, because I didn't know what I was scared of.

I closed my eyelids over tears, and buried my head deeper into the pillow until he finally came into the room.

"You flopped all over the bed, so I moved to the couch where I could get some sleep," he whined. "Why didn't you wake me?"

I untangled myself from the bedclothes wrapped around my legs, shivering harder when the soaked collar of my pajamas touched my neck, and mumbled something about being sick. I figured a fever was the only explanation for cold sweats. I wrapped the covers around me and snuggled back into the pillow.

Then I remembered the dream, and understood that neither a fever nor the frigid temperature in the house had caused the chills. I thought he might laugh if I told him I had only had a nightmare. But if I didn't tell him, he would surely wonder why I was behaving so strangely.

I rehearsed the words in my head until I thought I could say them in a voice that didn't sound childish. "I had a nightmare. I saw a murder, and I didn't do anything to stop it."

Todd pulled gray sweatpants from his middle drawer and stepped into them, ready for his morning run on the treadmill. He spoke with his back to me.

"I have an important meeting this morning, Nicole. I needed my sleep."

I told myself he wasn't angry with me; he was irritable because his routine had been disrupted. I apologized for chasing him to the couch, and for not waking him when the alarm went off.

He turned to me for the first time since coming into the room. "You look like hell. Were you drinking last night?"

"I feel like hell. And no, I didn't have a drop of alcohol. After you left for your game, I watched a little TV and went to bed. Todd, this dream really shook me up. Will you hold me, please?"

He leaned across the bed to peck me on the cheek, explaining that he was already running late and didn't have time. "You'll be okay once you get up. Hurry and shower while I run."

I decided on a hot bath instead of a shower, even though I knew it wouldn't cure the chill. This feeling had nothing to do with temperature, and I doubted it would leave any time soon.

Wake Me When It's Over (e-book)

Wake Me When It's Over (paperback)