Dream On
A Somewhat Sleeping
Beauty Story
By Jennifer McMurrain
***Note from the
author***
What you are about to
read is a rough draft. Anna’s Legacy supporters are getting a sneak peek at my
writing process and they are the first ones to get to read these novellas.
Knowing that it is a rough draft, please be aware that it hasn’t gone through
my rigorous quality control and there will be mistakes, typos, and before the
final product is published, it might even have a plot change. This is all part of
the process. So I hope you enjoy this sneak peek of Dream On: A Somewhat
Sleeping Beauty Story.
Chapter 1
Arlyn Wade stirred from her sleep with a crick in her neck
and a horrible taste in her mouth. The smell of leather with a hint of
pineapple tickled her nose, but it was unfamiliar. Inwardly she groaned. She
had done it again.
She opened her eyes and confirmed her suspicions. She was
sitting in the back seat of a car, an older gentleman wearing a soft blue
turban sat in the driver’s seat reading a book.
“I did it again, didn’t I, Omar?” she asked.
Omar put down his book and turned to face her. His smile
warmed her, making her lose some of her embarrassment.
“I told you Arlyn, you needn’t worry. I’ll take care of
you.”
She returned his smile. He was a man of his word. “And that
is why you’re my favorite Uber driver.”
Arlyn scooted up on her seat so she could see the book in
Omar’s lap. “What are you reading this time?”
Omar held up the book. “An American classic, To Kill a Mockingbird.”
“That’s a good one,” said Arlyn as she dug in her purse.
“Not as good as my favorite author, Arlyn Wade.”
Arlyn looked up and smiled at Omar. “I’m just a ghost
writer, which means I don’t really exist.”
She went back to digging in her purse as Omar shook his
head. “I will never understand this ghost writing thing. You do the work, you
should get the credit.”
Arlyn found the fifty she kept in her purse for emergencies
and handed it to Omar. “Thank you for being such a good friend.”
Omar pushed the money away. “You paid with your app.”
“They pay me not only enough to not mind losing credit, but
to make sure I can take care of the people who spend their valuable time
reading while I’m taking a nap in their car.” She looked at her watch. “You
lost at least an hour, please take this. Put it towards your daughter’s college
fund and if you want to stop at that taco truck you love so much, she doesn’t
have to know.”
Omar took the money and gave her a nod of thanks. “You are
too kind, Arlyn.”
“So are you Omar,” said Arlyn as she opened the car door.
“We kind people need to stick together.”
She said her good-byes to Omar and walked into her apartment
building. She punched in the code to the front door and made her way to the
back corner apartment on the first floor. There was nothing fancy about her
building, which was fine for Arlyn. She didn’t need a fancy brown or something
with a doorman. All she needed was quiet.
Entering her apartment she let out a sigh of relief. Part of
her loved the city and appreciated that everyone once and a while she had to
get out and experience it, but her home was the only place she felt completely
safe.
Arlyn walked to the kitchen and checked her schedule on the
fridge. Her stomach growled as she marked off “nap” on the to-do list. She
wasn’t surprised she felt hungry even though she had just had a large lunch
with her agent, Molly.
Hunger was one of the side effects of her condition. She
told herself her brain was confused and reached into the fridge for a bowl of
baby carrots, even though her body craved French fries. She glanced at her
schedule again, before heading to her computer to check her e-mails.
Munching on a carrot as her e-mail came us, she cocked her
head. She had an e-mail from Molly, even though they had just spoken. Her eyes
widened as she read the subject line: FANTASTIC OPPORTUNITY! CALL ME NOW!
Arlyn quickly left her computer and hurried to retrieve her
cell from her purse in the kitchen. She hit the speed dial for Molly and
waited.
“What took you so long?” asked Molly.
“Why hello to you to,” said Arlyn. “And I just saw you, what
could be so important?”
“Two words … Cordel Foster,” said Molly in her peppy voice.
Arlyn shook her head even though she knew Molly couldn’t see
her. “Who?”
“Cordel Foster,” repeated Molly, “you know the guy on Voyage
Channel that goes to all sorts of exotic locations in search of monsters and
ghosts?”
“The Voyage Channel? I thought that was educational? I
didn’t know they had fiction series,” stated Arlyn.
“They don’t, Cordel is a cryptozoologist. They study
folklore, like Bigfoot or the chupacabra,” explained Molly.
“The chupa what?”
“It’s like some kind of vampire dog,” said Molly, “but
you’re missing the point, Arlyn. Cordel wants you to ghost write his
autobiography. This is a big deal for the publisher and Cordel has asked for
you specifically.”
“Why?” asked Arlyn as she wrinkled her nose. Besides Molly,
Omar, and her clients no one knew that Arlyn was a ghost writer. That was part
of the job. She did all the work, they get all the credit, and she was paid
very well to keep her mouth shut. Not like it was hard to keep it a secret,
Arlyn had no interest in the spotlight.
“I don’t know,” said Molly, exasperation dripping from her
words. “Why ask why? This is a big deal.”
“Okay,” said Arlyn. “Let me do my initial research and I’ll
call you back with my answer.”
“Today, Arlyn,” stated Molly. “I have to know by today.”
“All right, Molly,” said Arlyn. “I’ll give you a call in a
bit.”
“You’d be a fool to say no,” said Molly.
“Goodbye,” said Arlyn as she hung up the phone. Never had
Molly been so adamant about her taking a writing gig. Molly had always been
very respectful of Arlyn’s process, which was the same no matter the celebrity
status of the person she was working for.
Taking her cell with her, Arlyn walked back to her computer.
She sat down and opened Google, typing in Cordel Foster into the search bar. A
Wikipedia page was at the top of the list, but Arlyn knew better than to jump
into Wikipedia, since it was usually written by a fan or marketing personnel.
There were a number of social media accounts, which she also skipped over.
She studied the pictures on the right side of the search
listing. Cordel was not hard on the eyes, the information under the pictures
told her he was 35 and born in Billings, MT. He had dark blonde cut just long
enough to give him a constant cute tousled look. Arlyn figured that “tousled”
look probably took hours in front of the mirror. He wore a casual long sleeved
white shirt, with the sleeves pulled up so you could see his muscular arms.
Arlyn tried no to roll her eyes, it was a publicity photo
after all. Google also told her his height, that he was unmarried with no
children, and had graduated from Tufts University. Not only was he the host of
his popular show, Finding Folklore,
on the Voyage Channel he was also a producer.
Exiting Google she went to YouTube and typed in Cordel’s
name. She wasn’t surprised when half a million videos turned up, she knew he
was popular. That’s not why she went to YouTube, she wanted to see his
personality.
Arlyn bypassed all the videos that were simply clips of his
show. That was an act, a character he portrayed on TV … something that could be
edited. She scrolled down until she found clips of interviews done with him on
live T.V. Where she knew that could be an act to, live shows couldn’t editing
out any foul ups.
She clicked on a local morning show and turned up the
volume. The show had just come back from commercial with two beaming women
looking into the camera, Cordel Foster sat next to them wearing a goofy grin as
he rubbed his hands together.
“Welcome back,” said the blond host of the show. “We are so
excited to have traveler, cryptozoologist, and host of the amazingly popular
show, Finding Folklore, Cordel Foster with us this morning.” She looked at
Cordell. “Thank you so much for being here.”
“Thank you for having me, Kathleen,” said Cordel. “This is
one of my all-time favorite morning shows. I’m a little star struck to be
sitting here with the two of you.”
The two hosts laughed and blushed.
“I bet you say that to all the morning show anchors, but I
don’t mind you saying it to me,” said the anchor with the soft cocoa skin and
luscious black hair. Cordel gave her a wink and Arlyn rolled her eyes. She was
not surprised he was a big flirt, but it was a major turn off to her that he
knew he was a big flirt.
“So let’s get down to business, Cordel,” continued the
anchor with black hair. “What is a cryptozoologist?”
“I’m glad you asked, Michelle, cryptozoology is the search
for and study of animals whose existence or survival is disputed or
unsubstantiated, for example Big Foot or the Loch Ness monster,” answered
Cordel as if reading the definition straight from the dictionary.
“So do you search for the boogie man, too?” asked Kathleen,
with a laugh, causing Michelle to join in the laughter.
For a split second Arlyn saw Cordel’s eyes narrow, then he
quickly laughed with the ladies. “Well, I guess that depends on your definition
of the boogie man. If you are scared of thought of vampires or werewolves, then
my study of the chupacabra would probably fit your definition of a boogie man.”
“Chupa what?” asked Michelle.
“The chupacabra,” Cordel scooted to the end of his chair and
leaned forward. “For decades, farmers in a small mining town in the heart of
Chile’s northern desert have woken to find their goats and sheep dead in their
pens. The predator has a weakness for blood and drinks it from its prey, after
it has ripped the poor animal’s neck out.”
“Well that explains the vampire part,” said Kathleen as
Michelle cringed.
“Yes, the name, chupacabra translates into goat-sucker in
English. Eye witness accounts are of a deformed looking dog …”
“There’s the werewolf,” said Michelle to Kathleen.
“… with a row of spikes reaching from its neck to the base
of the tail with scaly greenish-gray skin.”
“That does sound terrifying,” said Kathleen. “And you just
go around searching for such a creature.”
Cordel leaned back and smiled. “I do. I search for
chupacabras, big foots, yetis, and I even touch on paranormal phenomenon like
the Suicide Forest in Japan. It’s not a job for the weak of heart.”
Again Aryln rolled her eyes, feeling his overinflated ego
through the screen.
Michelle raised both of her hands. “Okay, allow me to play
devil’s advocate for a second.”
Cordel gave her another wink. “That sounds like something I
would hunt.”
She waved him off as she giggled. “Seriously, it’s hard to
believe that these things exist in this day and age. We have satellites and
GPS, very little of this world hasn’t been walked all over by human feet. No
one has ever had any viable proof that these creatures of legend exist, no
scat, no hair, not dead carcasses. Isn’t it easy to be unafraid of these
things, to hunt them in the scary dark, since they’re basically the equivalent
of fairy tales?”
Arlyn leaned closer her computer screen. The annoyance she
had only witnessed for a second earlier was now plastered all over Cordel’s
face.
“Michelle, with all due respect, that is exactly the
attitude that will continue to hinder the scientific process. Universities,
corporations … they don’t want to fund an expedition that will make them seem
like a laughing stock. That attitude is why if someone did find evidence of a
legendary creature they most likely wouldn’t come forward. Scientist are finding new creatures every day,
and nobody bats an eye when it’s a new species of fish, or insect, but bring up
a new mammal or something as crazy …” Cordel made air quotes while he said
crazy. “… like Big Foot, no matter how many eye witness come forward to say
what they saw. Attitudes like that one, is exactly why we haven’t found
evidence.”
Michelle looked at Kathleen. “Well, I guess he told me.”
The two ladies giggled nervously.
Cordel forced a smile and raised his hands in a peaceful
gesture. “I’m sorry, that came off wrong. I’m just very passionate about my
career and subject of study. I understand some people look at me as a fraud. An
actor who jumps at his own shadow for ratings. I am thankful that the Voyage
Channel supports Finding Folklore, as more as just entertainment, but as an
open-minded science project. We may not find Big Foot, but we’ll be teaching
future generations that to peruse even what seems impossible is a pursuit worth
having if you’re passionate about it.”
As Kathleen and Michelle started to pitch Cordel’s show,
Arlyn clicked the pause button. She leaned back in her chair and studied the paused
video that showed Cordel giving a cheesy smile and wave at the camera.
She picked up the phone and called Molly.
“Have you decided?” Molly asked, her nerves and excitement
pulsating through the phone.
Arlyn took a deep breath, knowing she was about to upset one
of her closest friends. “I’m sorry, Molly, I can’t work with him.”
“No,” cried Molly. “Why? Arlyn, this is a big get for the
company. He’s asked for you specifically.”
Arlyn placed her forehead in her hand. She hated the sound
of disappointment in her friend’s voice, hated even more that she had put it
there.
She sighed. “Molly, I don’t think he’s interested in
answering the hard questions truthfully. I just watched him lash out at a host
on live television. I can’t imagine how he’ll act when it’s his ghost writer. I
don’t write fiction for a reason and I’m not about to start with Cordel
Foster.”
“Arlyn, please reconsider,” begged Molly.
“Just tell him I’m not good enough,” said Arlyn. “Put Sandra
on it, she wrote the last best seller. Trust me, Molly, give him Sandra, wrap
her up in a bow, and his ego will eat it up. He wants someone to tell his tall
tales. I’m not the person to do that, we’ll be like oil and water.”
Molly sighed. “I hope you’re right about Sandra, Arlyn, but
I know you’re wrong about you and Cordel being oil and water. I don’t agree
with it, but I’m accepting your right to turn down this job offer. Arlyn I
can’t promise that something like this will come around again. The publication
world is in a tricky place, we can’t afford to be picky.”
Arlyn nodded even though she was on the phone. “I
understand, but my goal is to write the best book possibly for you and the
house. I can’t do that with Cordel, he’ll stress me out and I’ll have a …”
“It’s okay, Arlyn,” said Molly. “You’re just so talented and
strong, sometimes I forget you have narcolepsy and that you have to take
certain precautions. I shouldn’t have pushed. I’ll pitch Sandra to Cordel and
make it work.”
“Thank you, Molly,” said Arlyn.
As Molly hung up, Aryln walked to the couch and
plopped down. She was already exhausted and knew she had to relax her body and
rest. Pulling a throw blanket over her, she placed her head on the pillow and
hoped that Molly wasn’t too angry at her.
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