Deedra Lee has had visions of faces and locations that she didn't recognize. Having déjà vu moments, she hears others' thoughts. Her dreams are a kaleidoscope of landscapes only found in the northwest. Deedra enrolls at the University of Washington. Deedra hopes to follow a vision of the carvings that she has seen on the library door on the campus brochure. She is looking for explanations for her dreams and the voice in her head. She feels as though she is losing her mind. A small band of immortals are working and living in Seattle. She gets their attention and the renegades. Blaine Bluestar runs across Deedra on campus. He immediately knows he has found his soul mate. Now Deedra is being watched by this small band of immortals for her safety. She doesn't know she is immortal. Until she is ready to accept the truth, she cannot be found by the cartel that controls the renegades. Her energy isn't blocked, sending it out like a beacon. That will attract the wrong attention. Blaine goes underground to find out more information. As the others steer Deedra keeping her safe until they can reveal the truth.
Deedra Lee has had visions of faces and locations that she didn't recognize. Having déjà vu moments, she hears others' thoughts. Her dreams are a kaleidoscope of landscapes only found in the northwest. Deedra enrolls at the University of Washington. Deedra hopes to follow a vision of the carvings that she has seen on the library door on the campus brochure. She is looking for explanations for her dreams and the voice in her head. She feels as though she is losing her mind. A small band of immortals are working and living in Seattle. She gets their attention and the renegades. Blaine Bluestar runs across Deedra on campus. He immediately knows he has found his soul mate. Now Deedra is being watched by this small band of immortals for her safety. She doesn't know she is immortal. Until she is ready to accept the truth, she cannot be found by the cartel that controls the renegades. Her energy isn't blocked, sending it out like a beacon. That will attract the wrong attention. Blaine goes underground to find out more information. As the others steer Deedra keeping her safe until they can reveal the truth.
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Chapters
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Lifeâs Little Moments
Campus
New Life Begins
Blaineâs Story
 The Truth
Training Day Part One
Alone at last
Training Day Part Two
The Visitors
Refuge
Victoria Island
Journals
The underground
The New World
Without Warning
Escape plan
Loving Arms
The Council
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Prologue
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     In 9,000 BC, Immortals arrived from the capital of Atlantis. This group of Atlanteans went on a mission to conduct an exploration of the present populace of mortals. By the time the party regrouped and headed back home, Atlantis had disappeared permanently. The six warriors divided up and assimilated into modern civilization. When society grew, they considered some to be gods. They worshipped others from afar. The Atlanteans, now, were the immortal populations. Where the corrupted rose to the surface, they ran in secret societies such as the Knights Templar, Skull & Bones, Illuminati, Freemasons. The ancients carry a story from their old beliefs; âThe Oneâ would come to set the immortal world straight. In the 1800s, they incorporated into the wealthiest of circles: Forbes, Carnegie, and Rockefeller. The corruption ran deep in the economic wealth of the United States. Remarkably, the besmirched leaders of the immortals remained in their antiquated practices. New highbred immortals called themselves Renegades, they worked for the cartel. They successfully pushed out the original six by putting them to death. Yet, one hid making societyâs life-altering choices from the security of the burnt-out abandoned city below Seattle, Washington.
Effectively, he had manipulated.
 Immortal and mortal lives for centuries.Â
Until nowâŠ
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Chapter 1
Lifeâs Little Moments
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 Have you ever had a dĂ©jĂ voo moment? Has someone called you when you are thinking of him or her? Have you ever had a dream about someone from your past and didnât know why, after many years, he or she is in your dreams? Magic is a part of all of us. Sometimes the universe chooses us when we least expect it.                              Â
My name is Deedra Lee. I believe that magic lives in all of us. Fate has given me just a little more mojo than your average human. My institution is as good as it gets. I can sum you up in the first sentence out of your mouth. When I try to second-guess myself because I am looking for the good in all people, I always regret it. My dreams are so real it is like going to a 3-D movie theater with all the colors and sounds of a live-action thriller. I have had trouble waking up from some of my dreams. When I do, I experience confusion; I am disoriented, like when you wake up in a new place and take a minute to remember where you are. Swinging my fist into the mid-air is my first response. Fight or flight is an instinct in most humans, safety first, then trying to figure out where I have landed.
 Sometimes a dream leaves me uneasy long after I am awake. Some are violent and profoundly disturbing; they stay with me the longest. Oddly, I repeatedly dream about a group of six; they come to me dressed in scarlet robes; I feel a profound sense of authority; the six of them are godlike, but their faces are still blurred, hidden behind hoods covering most of their features. Sometimes they are in the distance; I can feel them watching me. I know what they think even if I can only see small pieces of red cloth in my dreams. However, the feelings of death, fear, and loneliness are real. Making my days long, because of deprived sleep. Some of my dreams are sexual; they leave me with an empty yearning. An aching for something or someone I have lost. I can emotionally feel it in my soul. Moody doesnât even describe what happens in those days that follow. Growing up in Cherokee, North Carolina, I was now of age to live a productive life. Yet I was still living at home. Deciding, with all the weirdness in my life; I had to go looking for answers. My family thought evil spirits possessed me. Friends thought I was possibly a bit off. I found an ad in a newspaper that read: Ashevilleâs oldest authority on supernatural reading for free. Then it gave a vague address outside the city limits on a rural road. I would never recommend someone doing this. Yet, I am going on my own to visit a gypsy camp. Is it safe? I donât know, but my intuition took over, and I went into the unknown. It was fifty-two miles from Cherokee to Asheville and then another ten miles on the other side of the city. Her name was Syeira, or so said the tent that I was standing in front of. Suddenly, a woman appeared in front of me. She held her hand out to hold the tent back to invite me to enter; she bowed her headâŠ
âPlease come in, Deedra Lee. I have been waiting for you to show up.â
 She didnât look any older than me, perhaps in her late thirties. Her ad claimed she was born with the bloodline of an original witch of Salem in 1692; Syeira had long, dark hair, her brown eyes were rich in color. She also wore markings that scrolled in an extraordinary design around her hairline. The markings were like looking through a stained-glass window as the scrolling illuminated her face. The colors are more vivid than any tattoo Iâve ever seen. I held my breath for a moment, transfixed on who she was and how elegantly she moved. She truly was mesmerizing. Her aura was so powerful I could see it shimmering like the aurora borealis in many colors waving all around her as I stepped into the tent and commented.Â
âYour markings are so radiant I can feel the power you hold.â
She looked deep into my eyes and smiled. I didnât even hear her move. The next thing I knew, she was standing in front of me, studying me, reaching inward, and trying to read me. I could feel her pull on my senses. Then she spoke again with a heavy Romanian accent. Her voice was low and sensual. Or maybe it is the accent that made it so sexy.
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âTu⊠. prietenul meu, deÈine un spirit foarte vechi.â
âSorry I donât understand. I only speak English and a little Cherokee.â
âYouâŠMy friend, you hold an incredibly old spirit. Your gifts of magic have immense potential when you learn to control them. You have yet to discover who and where you belong. Please sit. What can I do for you?â I took a deep breath and wondered what she was talking about holding an old spirit; I was barely thirty-two. I cleared my throat to speak.
âAre you able to explain the voice I hear in my mind?â her eyes narrowed and the crease between her eyes pinched together as she scowled.
She paused for a timeless moment, just watching as her surrounding aura got brighter. The scrolling in her hairline looked like it was moving. Her pattern swirled as it went to the same colors as her aura. I stepped back. Then she asked.
âYou can see my markings, canât you?â
I nodded as if I had lost the ability to speak.
 She smiled.
âThey are ancient; they represent my heritage and carry some of my magic. Most mortals cannot see them; only someone with an extraordinary gift can see them. Who are you?â
 I could feel the warmth coming from her. I stepped back further as I stuttered out the words.
âThatâs what I am here to ask you. I am not magical that I know of.â
Then she whispered.
 âCome in and sit. Do not fear me. I will try to read it to you. However, it will not be easy for someone so full of magic. I may only confuse you further, for the reading may come into a puzzle more than an answer to your many questions.â
We stepped further into her tent, where Syeira had a sitting area with a small table. I almost expected to see a crystal ball sitting there, but no such luck.
A quietness fell in the tent for an exceptionally long time. I could smell the sweet vanilla scent with something more exotic, frankincense or myrrh. I could feel the warm air as it swirled around my senses. Then she spoke.
âEvergreens, saltwater, blood queen, lover, friends, enemies.â Then her eyes rolled back into her head. I could see the whites. Was she in trouble having a seizure or something? I stood up and went to get help and then she let out a blood-curdling scream of pain, then she fainted. I grabbed her, catching her just before she hit the floor. When she woke up, she seemed frightened, trembling, and pale, with beads of moisture forming on her brow. Her whole body stiffened as I helped her stand. We looked into each otherâs eyes, and I saw the fear and horror. Syeira pointed towards the front of the tent where I had originally come in.
She grabbed my forearm, my skin burned. âI leave you with an eternal humanity spell. Now you must go.â
A man appeared from nowhere, holding the folds of the tent open for me to leave.
 âYou have to go; Madame Syeira has nothing more to show you.â Trembling and shaking her head, muttering in her native tongue as she was pushing me out of the tent. I stumble to gain my footing.Â
âWhat happened?â I yelled back to her, looking over my shoulder.
 Madame Syeira just disappeared back into the tent. Then another man came out and pointed to my car. I got the message that they wanted me to leave.
 Again, I got nowhere fast and still had no answers for my ever-changing abilities, and she could not explain the voice I heard in my head. My arm still burning, I pulled up my sleeve. On my forearm were some of the same tats on her face. The green Ivy-like, with small pink and purple flowers that wrapped my forearm from wrist to elbow. They were beautiful, but how did they work? I guess I will find out.
 A few months later, in Montréal, Canada, I met another gypsy. She said her ancestors were direct descendants of the gypsy movement from Austria-Hungary in the 1880s. She told me my future would be violent and that they had chosen me to lead. Lead⊠what or whom? She was unambiguous about that part of the vision⊠This time I left with a blessing of safe passage, and she placed an amulet around my neck to protect me. She told me never to take it off, for its magic would someday save my life. The silver teardrop-shaped necklace was the size of a small egg. Hand-carved vines and small flowers wrapped the amethyst. I left another tent with at least a blessing and a necklace from complete strangers. Yet still not an answer that I understood.
 For many years, I have searched for anyone in the mystical world to give me insight into the mysterious occurrences that keep showing up in my life. I think I might just be imagining all of this, although I may need to change my diet and watch what I eat before I go to bed. I could be just delusional and need to be locked in an institution.          Â
I am bewildered and vexed by all my strange feelings and the voice in my head that talks to me as though I am a dim-witted child. Oh, and then there are the Elizabethan queen-like words that my head uses to make unnecessary rude remarks about the surrounding people. I have decided the voice is not the conscious mind that is speaking to me; it is another entity altogether. Perhaps I have a split personality and should turn myself in at the next psychiatric ward or better yet, should I find a Catholic Priest and have them perform an exorcism? None of those thoughts made me feel better about the voice in my head that was sometimes annoying and not extremely helpful in my quest to figure out what was happening to me. She never responds to my questions; makes condescending remarks and is now silent. I havenât heard a peep for days. In the past few months, I have been having vivid dreams of a place with evergreens and rhododendrons, a room with a painting of me, but me in a different time and place.
 I set out on a new adventure. My life had been a contradiction with the eccentricity that is my life. With my high school diploma, I knew my job search would be difficult. Perhaps I should further my education. My dreams led me to seek the most vivid images. The image of tall doors with hand-carved scenes, familiar wording, recurred in my dreams.  One day, a brochure showed up in the mail. On the front of the brochure was a library and there was the image of the doors in my dreams. The brochure specified scholarships. I qualified on many merits. I applied for the scholarship. Getting an education seemed the right path if I were reading my dreams correctly and if I werenât, maybe I would find someone there to help me. Months later, I received a letter informing me I had qualified to receive a full-ride scholarship. I enrolled at the University of Washington in the land of evergreens and rhododendrons. Coming from a small town in the hills of North Carolina where my graduating class was thirty-seven, and the town had a population of five hundred. Fear of going to school in my late thirties seemed like I might be too old to fit in. Seattle was an immense city showing up there was the scariest thing I had ever done, even scarier than going into the gypsiesâ camp. I have always had a great imagination. Knowing I inherited that from my dad. I donât remember the first time I dreamed of three-dimensional color images. I know I have always dreamed beyond the normal person. When someone is describing their thoughts to me, I can visualize them at once in my mind. I never thought about it being a gift. However, I understand not very many people can see in their minds this way. I believed in the possibility that magic remains in this world. It canât all be explained away by science. Otherwise, I needed to be locked up, and the key is thrown away. ⊠I also hear a voice in my head that sometimes she tells me what to do and where to go and sometimes she tells me random knowledge about my family that no one else knows.
I hear nothing from her for months on end. Then voilĂ , she is speaking to me again. I know it is crazy, right? I sometimes think so too. Â
Unfortunately, sharing my secrets with my family and all their superstitions would surely have me locked up.
In December, I was stuck at home in a snowstorm. Severe weather is common in our state. My parents live in the mountains of Cherokee, North Carolina. I visited my parents for the holidays. I had to be at the U Of W for orientation on January sixth.
 I booked my flight back to Washington through Portland, Oregon. To take a road trip through Washington State. I received a full-ride scholarship to attend the University of Washington.
The snow let up, and I could get a ride to the airport with my cousin. I boarded the plane on time and was to arrive in Portland around lunchtime. Looking at my phone, we were going to depart on time. We had been in the air for some time. I must have fallen asleep when the pilot came on the speaker.
âWe are currently making our descent to PDX. The weather is cool and rainy. It is approximately 12:00 pm and the weekâs weather looks like typical Northwest rain, I am afraid. Welcome to the Northwest.â
Disembarking the plane, I went over to the rental counter and had reserved an SUV. When checking in, they gave me a Tucson or Blazer, and I took the Hyundai Tucson. I walked out to the elevator. On the fifth level, I walked across the sky bridge to the rental part of the garage. I stopped at a kiosk to have them direct me to the rig. Key ring said Sedona Sunset Tucson 2020. How could I miss that? And sure enough, the only burnt orange SUV left in the lot was mine. I got in, checked her over, and off I went. Following the signs leading out of the airport and on my way north on I-5. While I drove up I-5 for about a half-hour, my stomach rumbled. I saw a Polynesian-looking building from the freeway. The sign read Kalama Harbor Lodge-McMenamins. I pulled off at the exit that led to the hotel.
Fatigue had set in with the time change and I was hungry. Deciding lunch sounded good. Walking through the front doors of the lodge. You couldnât help noticing rough-hewed planks of cedar wood that lined the wall to the ceiling. The gnarly wood sculptures were beautiful. Then I looked through the lodge to the all-glass windows that showed the mighty Columbia River. I had to check it out. I stopped at the desk and asked if they had rooms available. While I was checking in, the smell of food from the restaurant made my stomach make a louder noise. The staff gave me a key and directed me to the elevators.
I had a room on the fourth floor overlooking the Columbia River. I unpacked a few items and hung them up in the bathroom, so the shower steam would allow the wrinkles to fall out of my clothes before tomorrow. When done, I stepped out into the hall to take the elevator down to the restaurant. I asked to be seated by the window. The server placed me on the end with a view of the Columbia River and the Totem poles. The brochure on the table I picked up and read. Â Â
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 âThe totem poles featuring mythical forms, symbols, and creatures of the Pacific Northwest Native American culture are in Marine Park, Kalama, Washington. Marine Park borders the Columbia River just west of Interstate 5 and downtown Kalama. The tallest pole is carved from a 700-year-old Western Red Cedar, and, according to the Cowlitz County Department of Tourism website (2008), at 140 feet, this totem is the largest one-piece totem in the world at a 140 feet high. Local Native American craftworker Don Lelooska began work on them for the display at the Seattle World Fair in 1962 but did not finish in time. Refinished and rehabilitated twice, they stand as a proud landmark of community involvement and pride.â
 Having the blood of Choctaw/Cherokee running through me, or so I have been told. But with my dirty blond hair and blueish lavender eyes, I wondered. I sat there staring at the totem poles, letting my memories take me back to the time as a little girl, listening to my grandfatherâs stories in his native tongue. His stories told of a race of spirit people. They were invisible unless they wanted to be seen, at which times they resembled the Cherokee people. Or the spirit people would come as your spirit animal. A few people still believe an invisible supernatural being exists. They refer to the stories as the made-up stories of the magic that the elders of the tribe accepted in. I believe in magic and wish it to always be a part of my life. The animals on these totem poles were the spirit animals of thearea's indigenous peopleid they still believe as I did?
âExcuse me maâam can I get something started from the bar?â Taking a deep breath, I turned my head to face the server and sighed as I returned from my daydream.
 âI was just marveling over your totem poles.â
âYes, they are magnificent. Did you know that one common misconception regarding tribal artwork in Washington State is that totem poles are traditional art forms from the Coast Salish people. Totem poles are crests that represent clans from the indigenous people of Coastal Alaska and Canada. The reason why totem poles are associated with Seattle and most of Washington state is because a group of men from Seattle came across a totem pole while in Alaska. The group brought the totem pole back to Seattle and was there known as the âSeattle Totem. It was not there place to have taking the totem. The Tlingit Nation later sued for the unlawful removal of the totem and the courts ruled in favor of the Tlingit people.â
âWow, that is an interesting history. The brochure says a local craftworker carved the totems here. â
âYou are correct. Local Native American Artisan Chief Don Lelooska carved our totem poles.
Did you need anything from the bar before I place your order?â
âYes, I would like to try a glass of the Cuvee De Labri. I also would like the steak bites rare with a house salad with blue cheese dressing. Â Â And thank you for sharing your knowledge of the totem pole.â
âI will get this order in. Do you want the wine for dinner or while you wait?â
âYes, I will have a glass of wine while I wait.â
The server left, and a brief time later, the bartender came with my glass of wine. Sipping my wine and looking out the window. I heard the buzzing just before she talked to me, I stilled my mind to receive her intrusion. When I paused, my mind didnât cause the headaches that usually follow her abruptly popping in and out of my thoughts.
âTake a trip up to Chief Lelooska lodge.â
âWhat the hell? Now you are talking at me and decide to tell me where I should go. Why should I go to this lodge?ââ
Then silence as always, the buzzing stopped, and I was alone in my head.
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I am about ready for a straight jacket listening to this random voice I hear in my head from time to time. It is not my voice. It is a woman I know, but how?â
After dinner, I returned to my room, needing more sleep for the drive tomorrow.
           Next morning, I got on the freeway and decided I was going south that was the wrong way when I saw the Starbucks sign at the Woodland cut off. So, I took the turnoff and stopped for coffee and scones to wake up so I could get on the freeway going the right way up north to Seattle. As I am paying, I asked the clerk.
âHow far is it to Chief Lelooska lodge?â She smiled and was full of useful information.
âNot far, maybe 20 minutes. Do you have GPS in your rig? Just enter Chief Lelooska. You will have to go south on this access road to the Freeway intersection. Turn left up the Lewis River Road about 15 Miles.â The buzzing started again. No time to still my mind I was driving.
âBetter hurry or you will be late.â
âBe late for what?â
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Then the silence that lets me know I am alone and crazy with my thoughts again. A dull headache had come on in her quake, I was in line in the drive through waiting for my coffee and scone. Driving out of Starbucks I followed her instructions and headed up the Lewis River hwy. Just like the clerk said, a sign and arrow. Merwin Dam state park and Lelooska Interpretive center. Taking the next right, I drove towards the lodge. The large fir trees that surround the lake are a beautiful sight. Looking out over the lake, an eagle was fishing. On the first swoop, he grabs his fish. Then flapping his wings rises to a limb to catch his breath and eat his fresh catch.
My mother says that Eagles are a sign of luck. That you will have a blessed day if you find you are on the path of an eagle. Driving further up the road, I see the lodge and pull into an empty parking lot. I get out and walk up to the lodge. The door swings open, and a woman dressed in what looks like she is in a white ceremonial gown with beading in a multitude of colors. Her head band is adorned with three feathers and her long white hair was braided and hanging over her shoulder. She does not appear to be much older than me or close to the same age. Yet, looking in her eyes, you can see the wisdom of many years. She is beautiful, with a white aura that is warm and inviting.
Welcome, Deedra Lee. I have been waiting for you. My name is Loleatta. She stepped aside and ushered me to enter. It took a minute for my eyes to adjust. There in the middle of the room was a huge fire pit with a large fire blazing away. I could smell herbs in the smoke that floated across my senses. She walked over to the bench that was at the fireâs edge and sat down. She patted the bench, encouraging me to sit with her. The heat from the fire was a pleasant change from the sodden day outside. I could hear the slight beat of a drum along with the sounds of chanting.
âPlease join me, wonât you?â Loleatta patted the bench again. Walking down to the bench I noticed there was no one in the building accept Loleatta and I.
I sat next to her on the bench. The amulet on my neck warmed slightly.
âHow do you know my name?â
âI know many things about your world. You will also understand more when you listen to your spirit guide. You have a lot of training to complete.â
âYou will cleanse the evil from the land. Make the people prosper again.â
âYouâre talking about the womanâs voice in my thoughts, arenât you?â
âHello maâam, we are closed. You can come back at 7:00pm when we open. I am going to have to ask you to leave.â I stood up and turned to talk to the man in the back.
âLoleatta invited me in.â
âThat is impossible. She was my grandmother, and she has been dead for many years. Who are you? How do you know my grandmother?â
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Looking around. The drums and chanting had stopped. I turned slowly and there was not a blazing fire and no Loleatta sitting next to me on the bench. The amulet was cold. Shaking my head in disbelief. Mumbling to myself.Â
âHow could my life get weirder? This canât be happening to me. I was just talking to her, and the fire was blazing, herbs and smoke in the air and now nothing but silence. I stopped my hysterical thoughts, took a deep breath. âFunny farm here I come.â I cleared my throat and turned back to the man in the back of the room.
 âSorry to have bothered you. I will be on my way now.â
âWait, who are you? Where are you from?â
I took a couple of steps to the door, opened it and out I flew, almost running to get into my rig.
âWhat the hell was that? Was I talking to a ghost?â
Pushing the start button and throwing the car into reverse, I backed out of the parking spot. Pulling the gearstick into drive, I gave the car some gas and headed out of the centerâs parking lot. My hands had not stopped shaking and my heart was beating out of my chest.
As I was trying to take deep breaths and calm down inside, I was screaming in my thoughts, trying to make sense of what just happened.
 âWhat in the H E double L is going on, oh spirit guide?â
â Keep heading north, they know you have arrived⊠Hurry, time is short. Find the others. They will keep you safe.â
âWho knows? I have arrived and who cares? Who or what are the others?â I was by now screaming out into the nothingness of the rig.
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I knew I was alone with my thoughts again. No humming in the back of my head like when I hear her voice.
I drove up I-5; I was about an hour north, and my brain finally started functioning again after my supernatural experience. My hands had stopped shaking and the death grip on the steering wheel had let up. My back was tight, my hands hurt from gripping the steering wheel so tight, my neck was stiff, and the rain turned to drizzle along with an eerie fog that floated around, making it hard to see. I pulled into the rest area at Maytown for a cup of coffee. Pulling up, the fog engulfed everything. I couldnât even see the trees in the rest area or the building to get my coffee and go to the bathroom. As I pulled up, finally connected with the curb to let me know I had pulled completely in the parking spot. A tall, thin man appeared out of the fog and was headed towards my rig. I reached down and locked all the doors with a click. My amulet lying on my chest warmed up again. Was it a warning of danger? Sitting in the fog, my imagination was running wild with the warning from my spirit guide before I turned off at the rest area.
âNow I am headed to crazy town, calling her a spirit guide.â
I watched as he walked between the cars without paying me any attention. Then he disappeared into the fog as fast as he appeared. Unlocking my door and stepping out into the fog, I headed towards what I hoped were the restrooms and the coffee station. Hearing the laughter of people, figured I was going in the right direction. Fifteen feet in front of me, I could finally see the building and smell the coffee. Heading directly to the restroom, did my business, and washed my hands. The dryer echoed loudly through the metal and concrete room. I stepped out and went to get the coffee that smelled so good. I waited along with the other travelers that had pulled off talking about the weather and getting their coffee. The Rotarians that staffed the rest areas had cookies and bagels with cream cheese. Yummy, I bought a raisin cinnamon bagel. I picked up two cream cheeses. They were small and I like cream cheese. They had a microwave set up to warm the bagels. I had the guy behind the table cut my bagel in half and warm it in the microwave. Warmed, he placed it in a sack.
 I walked carefully back to my rig, so I didnât trip on anything. The fog was so dense you couldnât see three feet in front of you. The drizzle penetrated my coat, making me shiver. I was getting cold and wet quickly. I opened my door, took off my coat, threw it over the passenger seat to dry and then got in the rig and turned up the heat. Taking a sip of my excellent coffee and biting into the bagel. My mood was improving even if the weather kept on. I sat there waiting for the weather to lift. I tried to figure out what was happening to me. The voice in my head, or now we are calling her a spirit guide. Then what was with the Native American princess? Was she a ghost? Or was I heading for a straight jacket and the nearest lock up for the mentally insane⊠I had taken the last bite of my bagel and a finishing my cup of coffee. The fog was thinning; the sun was trying to come out, what eerie weather. Even the drizzle had stopped. I stepped out of my rig to give a good stretch and throw away my cup and napkin. Back in the car, reaching to put on my seat belt, started the rig, backed out and headed to my next destination, the Silver Cloud Hotel University district.
I had booked a room for a couple of days until I could find an apartment close to campus. The rig I was driving had to be returned in a week. I passed the Sea-Tac airport sign as I traveled further up I-5. Looking west, I could see downtown Seattle, then I heard the GPS. âTake exit 70, NE 65th South Ravenna Boulevard. Turn right 25th in the Âœ mile hotel on your left. I pulled into the hotel. I drove under the brick arches and stopped, got out of my rig, and walked into the lobby. The lobby was busy with people checking in. I got in line for a brief wait. Checking in I was given a double queen on the third floor, room 314, going back outside to get into my rig. I was told to park in the lot out back and my key card would let me in any door. Finding the lot full, my parking spot was in the last row. The amulet warmed again. I looked around the lot, seeing nothing. Maybe it wasnât a warning, it could be it was on the fritz, it didnât come with any instructions and the gypsy wasnât helpful. The lot had tons of lights with a six-foot fence around the parking lot. It seemed fairly safe. I grabbed my overnight bag and locked the door. As the clerk told me my key card let me in on the ground floor. I followed the signs to the elevator just past the noise of the indoor pool and the smell of chlorine. Pushing the arrow for up, I waited listening to the families having fun in the pool. The dinging of the elevator alerted me the door was about to open. The elevator was empty as I stepped in and hit the button for the third floor. When the elevator door opened the numbers on the wall seemed backwards. I wasnât sure I was on the right floor. Following the numbers, I found my room was at the end of the hall. I opened the door to a large room with two queen size beds, a desk, chair, and TV. Bathroom was nice with a granite counter and two sinks, tile shower and flooring.
I was getting hungry. I pulled the book that has all the info of the local area out. I didnât want to go to the restaurant to eat. I just wanted to stay in my room and have something comforting and delivered. Found Delfinoâs Chicago deep-dish pizza. That should work. All that delicious bread ought to put me in a coma. I called in the order and gave the address of the hotel. They said they would leave the pizza at the lobby front desk.
Then I opened my bag to pull out the clothes I intended to wear tomorrow for registration.
An hour later, the phone rang to let me know I could come and pick up my pizza at the lobby desk. Dressed in yoga pants and a sweatshirt, I walked down to the lobby to get my pizza. The smell was wonderful as it filled the elevator. Arms full of a pizza, a liter of diet Pepsi and some cinnamon dough for ordering the special. They covered the pizza with Canadian bacon, pepperoni, and pineapple. The smells of the pizza and the cinnamon dough were making me salivate. I stepped out of the elevator onto my floor. Getting the key out without dropping the pizza was harder than it should have been. In the end, I sat down the soda and the cinnamon dough on the floor to pull the key free from my sweat-shirt pocket. The door opened with a beep and green color for go. I pushed the door open with my shoulder. Bent over and picked the pizza and the cola off the floor. I set the pizza on the desk. I went back out to the ice machine around the hall by the elevator. I filled the bucket with ice to cool off the soda. I headed back to my room. After finishing a couple of slices, my tummy was full, and I drifted off.
An arm pulled me close to a hard body. The smell of spices and earth invaded my senses. His warm breath on my neck as he whispered,
âI have been looking for you all of my life.â I rolled over to look into the most beautiful blue/green eyes; they were pools of lake water that took my breath away. He had chiseled features and his hard smooth abs, broad shoulders that met his narrow waist.
 I knew I was dreaming, but it felt so real. His essence was so intense; with his earthy smell and the hint of spices that was all man. His arms snug around my body as his warm breath spread across my lips. Then, with a slow desperation, he devoured my mouth, his warm lips pressed to mine and then sliding his tongue gently into my mouth. A moan escaped. I was melting into the stranger; my breathing had become faster; my heart beat out of my chest. Warmth pooled lower in my belly and a small throbbing was causing me to peek towards the climatic end.
Reaching up to grab his dark hair and pull him closer.
I knew somewhere in my brain this was a marvelous fantasy. That is what I get for holding out and being picky about my partners. It had been a year without even a kiss.
I was going to let this dream play out.
Pulling him closer, I could feel his hardness press against my belly.
He whispered, âI have to be inside you. I couldnât wait. He reached down, putting his fingers in my wet folds, sending shivers up my spine as he brought me to the edge of climaxing. He placed his mouth on my erect nipple and began tugging with his teeth, sucking, and pulling, then pushing in one finger then another, curling them back, hit my G-spot as his thumb still rubbed on the button at my core.
 He whispered in my ear, âLet it happen, love.â as I hit the edge and fell off floating on the waves of pleasure that have never happened for me with any of my partners, euphoria like nothing I have ever experienced. I did not want to stop. Not able to catch my breath somewhere in the distance, I hear a phone ringing over and over, never stopping. Trying to pull myself out of the haze of my erogenous dream. I reached over my head, fumbling to find out what was making all the noise, and then lifting the phone receiver up to my ear. I heard a womanâs voice.
 âIt is 7:00am; this is your wake-up call.â
 I opened my eyes to find I was alone and fully clothed as I was last night when I must have crashed after the carb overload of pizza. I got up and took off last nightâs clothes to get into the shower. The hot water ran over my body when it hit my nipples. I pulled back⊠they were tender. I looked down and my nipples were red and chaffed, as if they had been worked over. But that was not possible. It was just a dream. Washing my hair, I thought of the luscious man that I fantasized right into my bed.
âOuch!â I was trying to be careful not to let the shower run on my nipples full on. Reaching to shut off the shower, I thought how nice it would have been to actually have the man of my dreams in the shower with me.
âStop thinking like that, get your thoughts together, registration is today; donât have time for daydreaming like a 16-year-old pubescent teen.â
After I chastised myself, I pulled the shower door back and reached for the plush white towel that hung on the bar outside. Drying off, I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I had bags under my eyes and dark circles from my sleepless night.
âNo more pizza before bed.â
I hung the house cleaner wanted sign on the doorknob and left. Walking to the parking lot, the hairs on the back of my neck rose. I stopped and looked around, taking in my surroundings. My amulet heated again. I wish I knew if it was a warning or something different. I did not see anyone but picked up my steps getting to my car. Got in and locked the door.
âThis is ridiculous. I am dreaming sensual dreams and imagining I am being watched.â Turning on the rig, a guy stepped out of the shadows in the back of the parking lot. He was tall and slim, like the guy in the rest area. I got that weird feeling again. My amulet heated on my skin. I watched him just like the guy who disappeared into the fog in the rest area. This guy disappeared into the shadows of the hotel. I put the rig in drive and took off. I went out of the parking lot onto 25th street heading South, then left on 44th Street, then pulled a U-turn on NE 45th Street to pass Rileyâs auto parts, then University. Just as the Clerk said when I picked up my pizza from the lobby last night when I asked for directions to the university.
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Chapter 2
University Campus
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It was a sodden, frosty January morning in Seattle, Washington⊠The snowstorm had been on the ground for many days when it drizzled. The silvery clouds swirled around with the swell of dancers in the sky. The rain fell sideways with a bite that seeped into the bones. I was beginning my first quarter at the University of Washington in Seattle. âGo Huskies.â
 When I had dressed this morning at the lodge, I plucked out my comfortable jeans with a baby blue ribbed sweater.
The amulet the gypsy gave me still hung around my neck for protection, just in case. As I headed out, I didnât have an inkling which way was registration. The college grounds were huge and gothic; it had to have gone on for miles. I thought as I wandered along the pathways of this traditional school. If these walls could tell me what they have seen.
âWhat secrets would they hold?â Thinking about the campus architecture, staring at the winged gargoyles not realizing how loss I was. I sat down on a stone bench at the edge of the brick paved circle. The seat was numbing cold. I shuddered as I got out my campus map, looking at it totally disoriented. When a lovely auburn-haired young woman stood in front of me, she smiled as though she knew I was lost. âHey there, you seem lost. Can I help you?â A puffed of miasma escaped my mouth. Â The air was very crisp.
I watched her; she was grinning as if she knew something I didnât know. Â I wonder that that could be. I thought to myself.
âShe looks normal enough!â She studied me, scrunched up her nose, and laughed as though she heard what I felt about her being normal.
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I don't like writing negative reviews, but this book requires commitment and a willingness to overlook frequent mistakes. I am a pickier grammarian than most people. I found the errors in spelling, punctuation, verb tense, and inconsistencies in details very distracting. My hope is that I received an early ARC and these will be corrected before release. It will require a lot of work.
Deedra is a young woman who has always experienced the world differently than others do. She sees things others can't see and hears things others can't hear. Her dreams are vivid and show places she has never been.
Many of her dreams take place in the Pacific northwest of the United States. When she unexpectedly receives a full scholarship to the University of Washington, she recognizes this as a sign and crosses the country to enroll.
There, she meets two groups of people wanting to use her powers. One group wants her to save the world. The other group has more selfish motives. She also meets the man of her dreams. Literally. She meets the man she has dreamt about.
The plot itself is decent but it's development is disjointed. For a book written in the first person, I am not sure I ever really knew the protagonist. Deedra's l story jumps abruptly from one thing to another with little transition. Visiting with seers seems to be a major plot point, but only two are fleshed out in any detail. The others are glossed over, mentioned as being pivotal in her life but given only the barest of details.
I can tell the author feels enthusiastic about this story. There is definitely passion in writing Deedra's journey to discovering who or what she truly is. This book just feels too much like an early draft in desperate need of editing.
I cannot recommend this book as it is. Perhaps it could be cleaned up and improved with a skilled editor. Lacking that, this reader is left lamenting the lost potential of the story.