Psychic Dreams: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel (Glimmer Lake Book 3)

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Psychic Dreams: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel (Glimmer Lake Book 3) Page 3

by Elizabeth Hunter


  “Right.” Monica was still blinking. “Is Philip—?”

  “In excellent health.” Grace waved a hand. “He’ll likely outlive all of us with his relaxed approach to life. The man does not even entertain stress.”

  “So you think—”

  “A dating site.” Grace nodded. “Or a matchmaker. Does anyone use those anymore?”

  Monica muttered, “I honestly have no idea.”

  “Make sure you play the field for a while. You’ve only ever been with Gilbert if I remember correctly.”

  “I… Hmm.” That was it. She was out of words.

  Grace winked. “There are a lot of possibilities out there for a beautiful woman in the prime of her life. You should enjoy yourself before you think about settling down.”

  What universe had she passed into? Was there a hidden camera somewhere? Would Grace even participate in a prank show? Of course she wouldn’t. She’d consider it gauche. But prior to this conversation, Monica wouldn’t have expected Grace to suggest she “play the field” either.

  Grace stood and picked up her folders. “Well, you and the girls will figure it out. Sully seems to make Val very happy. Maybe he has a friend or two.”

  Two? She didn’t need two! “I really don’t think—”

  “I’ll call Robin. I’m sure she’ll have ideas. First Friday of next month still good?”

  “For?”

  Grace looked at her like she’d lost it. “Our monthly finance meeting.”

  Oh, were they talking about the hotel again? Thank God. “Yes!” Monica stood. “First Friday of the month is good.”

  “Excellent.” Grace walked around the table and gave her a hug. “Have a wonderful weekend.” Her eyes lit up. “Maybe you’ll have a romance with one of the guests. Wouldn’t that be exciting?”

  No. That sounded like a disaster. “Have a great day!” Monica reached for her phone. “I think someone is texting me. I better check it.”

  “I’ll see you later, sweetheart. Enjoy the weekend.”

  Monica walked away before her head exploded. She looked at her phone, only to see a series of messages from Robin that she’d missed.

  RED ALERT. You’re meeting with my mom this morning, right? CALL ME.

  The following message was fifteen minutes later.

  Oh God, you’re meeting with her already. Please know I TOLD HER not to bring this up.

  At least Robin had tried to warn her. Not that it would have made the meeting any less awkward.

  Another message had come a few minutes after the first two.

  She means well.

  And another message five minutes later.

  Wine at your house tonight? I’m buying. Just tell me how many bottles.

  Monica walked to her office and shut the door before she texted Robin back.

  Yes. Wine. Lots.

  Chapter 4

  Monica leaned her elbows on the counter at Robin’s house and massaged her temples. “I’m trying to pretend it didn’t happen.”

  Robin filled her glass of wine to the brim. “I am so sorry. There is no explanation for her. She should never have pressured—”

  “She didn’t pressure me. Exactly. It was more like…” She sat up straight. “Do people actually walk around town thinking, ‘Oh, poor Monica!’ when they see me? Do they?”

  Val shrugged from her perch near the sink. “Not me.”

  “You don’t count—you know me.”

  Val pointed at Monica. “It’s Glimmer Lake. Everyone knows you except tourists.”

  “You know what I mean. I mean do the people I see every day at the coffee shop, at church… are they all thinking, ‘Poor Monica’?”

  Even the thought horrified her. She’d experienced a lifetime’s worth of pity when she missed going to college because she got pregnant. The last thing she wanted was her entire community thinking she was a pity case at a time when she was finally getting back on her feet.

  “I’m not ‘poor Monica,’” she said. “I started a successful business. My kids are all independent, functioning adults who still speak to me. No drugs. All employed. All— You know who’s poor? All those women I see bitching about their marriages! The ones who don’t do a damn thing about fixing them or starting over.” She had moved past horrified and was leaning into pissed off. “Poor Monica, my foot.”

  “No one is saying poor Monica.” Robin reassured her. “Everyone knew how amazing Gil was, so I mean, we all feel for you. But no one is acting like you just gave up or anything.”

  “Because I haven’t!”

  “Fuck no, you haven’t.” Val popped an almond in her mouth. “Is the pizza ready?”

  “I’m awesome!” Monica said. “I don’t need a man to be happy.” Not that it wouldn’t be nice to…

  Not the point.

  “I honestly don’t think my mom was thinking that you needed a man to be happy,” Robin said. “She just knows… I mean, you did like being married.”

  “Yeah. To Gilbert.” She had no confidence that anyone would even be close to a match for Gil. “So why does she think I want to get out there and sow my wild oats at forty-eight?”

  Robin and Val exchanged a look.

  “What?” Monica looked between them. “What was that?”

  “I mean…” Val shrugged. “It’s been a while. You don’t have any urge to get laid at all?”

  “Oh my God.” She clapped her hands over her cheeks, already feeling the heat. “Valerie Costa, I am not some horny teenage—”

  “I’m not saying you are,” Val said. “But it’s been almost four years. I’m just saying if you want to get laid? You could totally get some. So that’s an option.”

  “Why would I want to have sex with some random man?”

  Robin stifled a laugh. “I don’t think either of us is suggesting you go out trolling at the lodge or anything.”

  Val piped up. “We’re not not suggesting that either. A woman has needs.”

  Monica leaned back on the counter and covered her eyes with both hands. “I’m going to pretend this isn’t happening. I don’t have the time, energy—”

  “I think my mom just meant to say that if you want to look around, maybe date a little, there’s not some magic alarm that suddenly goes off and tells you it’s allowed. You’ve had time to grieve. You were an awesome wife and you had a wonderful marriage. If you met a man you wanted to spend time with, that would be great.”

  “Okay.” Please let them move on to something—anything!—else.

  Val said, “So do you want to start one of those dating profiles?”

  Robin’s eyes lit up. “We could help you fill it out!”

  Monica was going to kill them both.

  They were munching on pizza by the time Monica was able to steer them toward something resembling a normal conversation. “So I had a strange and disturbing vision last night.”

  Okay yeah, not normal for most people, but normal for them.

  “Murder?” Val asked. “Theft? Giant asteroid hurling toward the earth?” She looked at Robin. “I read that at any given time, there’s one in fairly close proximity.”

  “Thanks,” Robin said. “I definitely needed to know that useful piece of information so I could worry about it.”

  “Why worry? If a giant asteroid hits the earth, we’re fossils.”

  “Hello?” Monica waved. “Disturbing vision here?”

  “Right.” Val turned toward her and mimed zipping her lips. “Tell.”

  “I was walking down Main Street and everything was on fire.” She put down her pizza. “I was alone and I was wearing my white dress with the little red flowers on it. I think I was barefoot.”

  “Summer,” Robin said. “Sounds like summer.”

  “Sundress and barefoot,” Monica said. “Okay, yeah. That makes sense. So this is something that’s going to happen this summer.”

  “What do you mean, everything was on fire?” Val asked.

  “I mean it looked like a forest fire, b
ut not like we’d evacuated. There were all the normal cars around; I could see people in shops and at restaurants. But all the buildings were in flames. The trees were dropping sparks everywhere.”

  Robin asked, “And you’re sure this was a vision? Not a bad dream?”

  “I can’t lie—I’ve had nightmares about fire for years. It’s impossible not to have nightmares about fire when you’re married to a firefighter. But this didn’t feel like a dream. It was definitely a vision.”

  Val’s mouth was set in a grim line. “So Glimmer Lake is going to have a forest fire?”

  “Not necessarily,” Robin said. “Maybe this was a metaphor. Maybe this isn’t an actual fire. That’s happened before, right?”

  Monica nodded. “Sometimes things don’t happen exactly the way I see them. Sometimes it’s just a symbol or a mood. Unfortunately, this doesn’t feel that way. Not this time.”

  Val and Robin both watched her with frightened eyes. No one lived in the mountains or foothills of California without understanding how devastating fire could be. Homes, neighborhoods, and even entire towns could be consumed.

  “So what do we do?” Val asked. “Should I tell Sully?”

  Robin asked, “Tell him what?”

  “We can at least warn him about the vision.”

  Monica thought about the fire in her dream. She tried to remember the feeling of creeping dread and the unnatural darkness that had hovered over her when she woke. “Robin, have you noticed anything unusual around town lately with the… less alive community?”

  Ever since the accident, Robin had been able to speak to ghosts, hear them, and even summon a few if she’d met them before. “If I think about it, it’s been pretty quiet. But it’s also been high tourist season the past couple of months, so I guess I assumed they’d retreated because of that.”

  Val asked, “Did they do that last summer?”

  “Yes, but if I think about it, not as much.”

  Monica nodded slowly. “Okay. Val, there’s not really anything you can touch and read right now.” Val was a psychometric able to read energy and sometimes memories off of objects. “But it might be a good idea to give Sully a heads-up anyway.” Val was dating the sheriff in Glimmer Lake, and he knew about the three of them and their powers.

  “For now,” Monica continued, “all we can do is wait. Something about this dream feels different. I’ve only had it once, so it’s possible that it might change, that it’s trying to tell me something else, a metaphor like Robin said.”

  “Did you get any sense of time?”

  Monica shook her head. “Just the sundress and bare feet. And I agree with Robin—I think that means this summer.”

  “It’s August,” Val said. “Summer’s coming to an end.

  “Which means that whatever is going to happen” —Monica took a deep breath— “might happen pretty soon.”

  She dreamed again that night, the ceiling fan wafting cool air down on her sweating body as she tossed and turned.

  She was hot. The proximity of the flames felt blistering on her skin. Though she walked on sparks and ashes, she couldn’t feel the burn on her bare feet, only the piercing grit of gravel, stones, and bark that had blown into the road.

  The stores around her were open, people walked in and out carrying packages, looking at mobile phones, and checking purses and wallets. Two girls walked out of Sandy’s Scoops with ice cream melting down their hands.

  The fire raged above her, dancing from treetop to treetop. The canopy of pine and cedar crackled as it was consumed by the heated wind whipping up from Glimmer Lake.

  She could see the water in the distance, obscured by dark brown smoke. The whitecaps that usually danced in the wind were gone, and the water was completely still.

  Monica walked through the dream, and this time she felt calmer. This was sent to her. There was something she needed to see, something she needed to discover.

  “Hello?” she called out, and that was different too. She didn’t talk in her dreams; she saw things. “Hello?”

  A figure in shadows appeared at the edge of the forest, and Monica walked toward it. The brush rustled and crackled as the forest detritus simmered with red-gold coals. There was someone in the shadows; high, panicked breathing came to Monica’s ears.

  Whomever she’d seen was running away, crashing through the burning trees and bushes.

  “Don’t go there!” Monica tried to follow the shadow, but the fire burned hotter. The flames were right in her face.

  She rolled over, and he took her mouth in a long, lingering kiss. His lips moved slowly on hers as he inched his body closer.

  “Come here,” he murmured. His hand stroked down her back and his other hand cupped her cheek, angling her mouth to his.

  They were naked, skin to skin, and the light sheen of sweat on his shoulders glowed in the low light of her bedroom. She pulled away, looking at him.

  High cheekbones and an angular face. Dark, arching eyebrows over deep brown eyes. His eyes were so dark she fell into them. Silver threaded through his jet-black hair. It was a little bit long. He needed a haircut. She twisted a curl around her finger, and he let out a rough sigh.

  Who are you?

  His kisses made her drunk; her body answered his. She threw her knee over his thigh and pressed her body into his.

  “Yes,” he murmured. “Yes.”

  She was so hungry for him. It had been years.

  Monica threw her arms around his shoulders and thrilled in the heavy, corded muscle across his shoulders and chest. The sun had turned his brown skin darker—she could see where the edge of his undershirt ended and his tan began.

  Their bodies moved together in perfect time. This wasn’t the first time they’d made love. Was it? The planes of his body were as familiar as her own soft curves and dips.

  He grabbed a handful of her backside and she lost all focus.

  “Say my name.”

  Monica woke from her dream and sat up, gasping for entirely different reasons than the night before. She was flushed and sweating. Her thighs were damp, and her hair stuck to her neck. Her breasts felt heavy, and her lips were swollen.

  What the hell?

  She’d never had a sex dream like that. Ever. She’d never had a sex dream about anyone but her husband. It was kind of hard to imagine sex with anyone else when you’d only ever had one partner.

  But that hadn’t been Gilbert.

  Who are you?

  She could see his face as clearly as if she’d seen a picture. He was Latino and around her age. Short curly hair dusted with silver, and an angular jaw. He wore a short beard and he had beautiful eyes.

  He was familiar. Wasn’t he? Was she having random sex dreams about strangers now?

  Oh hell, maybe Robin and Val had a point.

  Groaning, Monica fell back into bed and reached for her journal. She tried to focus on the vision of the fire again and not the vision of the man in her bed.

  That wasn’t helpful at all.

  She jotted down everything she could remember. There was something new about this vision. She’d interacted with someone in it. To a point. She’d spoken, and that had never happened before. Before, she had always been a bystander. Most often it was as if she were watching a movie with familiar actors. But this time she was in the dream. She was participating.

  Hell yeah, I’d call that participation.

  She choked when she remembered the sex dream again.

  Sex dream or sex vision?

  For heaven’s sake, she could practically feel the man’s hands on her. This was ridiculous. She blamed Robin and Val. And Grace. This was definitely their fault for getting her imagination going about seeing new men.

  Forget the mystery man. Monica had seen something else in her dream. She’d seen someone else, and she had a feeling that person knew something about her visions of fire.

  Monica had a suspicion that whatever was coming to Glimmer Lake, there was someone—or something—behind it.
/>   Chapter 5

  Sylvia laughed. “Mom, maybe they have a point.”

  Monica nearly tossed the phone across the room. “Not you too.”

  It was Saturday morning, and her daughter had called for their weekly chat. They usually grabbed a cup of coffee, and Monica sat on the front porch, looking at the mountains, while Sylvia sat on her tiny balcony in the East Bay. They caught up on the week, shared gossip, and talked about “the boys,” aka Sylvia’s brothers.

  “I’m just saying” —her daughter was laughing at her— “I don’t think Dad would have wanted you to stay single for the rest of your life. You’re young. I don’t think any of us expect it.”

  “Caleb would be upset.”

  “No… Okay, maybe, but that’s only because he’s the most sentimental and he’s young and probably still believes in eternal love and all that.”

  “He’s only two years younger than you, Syl.”

  “You know what I mean though.”

  Sylvia, having grown up as the only daughter with three brothers, often sounded more like the oldest than Jake did. She knew all her brothers really well, and she knew Monica was right about Caleb. Her youngest by ten minutes, Caleb had always been her softest child, which was completely belied by his massive frame and heavy beard.

  “Caleb would be a little sad, but if you met someone who made you happy, you know he’d be the first to be all in. He’s a romantic.”

  “Do you think him and this girl—”

  “Yesssssss.” Sylvia started a stream of gossip about Caleb’s new girlfriend, who was a teacher in Bridger City and a couple of years older than him. They’d been dating for just over a month, and Jake and Sylvia were already bugging Caleb to bring her home. So far, Caleb’s twin brother Sam was the only one who’d met her.

  Monica adored her kids. She’d loved raising them, and she loved being a mom of adults too. Watching her kids take flight and soar in their own lives was a thrill. She’d worried initially when Sylvia was the only one who wanted to go to college, but she shouldn’t have.

 

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