Saturday, June 10, 2017

Dreamwalkers



Title: Dreamwalkers
Author: Tiaan Lubbe
Genre: YA Fantasy / Adventure
“You walk the bridges between two worlds, between reality and dreams, Ciso.”
“You are a Dreamwalker”
Narciso di Angelo, a sixteen-year-old boy, living on the streets of Rome thinks he is the only one that can walk in other’s dreams.
He’s not.
When a mysterious and dark woman makes her appearance in one of his dreamwalks, he is rescued from her clutches by Project Somnus, a secret underground United Nations organisation, that recruits and trains children with his gifts, using them to fight against and prevent worldwide terrorist threats.
Here Narciso learns more of his abilities and where they come from as well as what it means to be part of a family and a home.
But, as the threat of the mysterious woman and the terrorist organisation Tantibus increases, he also learns what it is like to lose this. 
“In dreams we live. In reality we dream.”



Dreamwalkers

By Tiaan Lubbe

Excerpt:



“Hi, I’m Narciso and I walk in other people’s dreams,” is what I would say if there was some sort of support group for people like me. There isn’t.
Yip, I always know when I’m dreaming. Never need to pinch myself. I know, because my dreams are real. And true. But the weird thing is, they aren’t mine. And the dream I’m entering now isn’t an exception.
I open my eyes, knowing from experience what will be in front of me. Running far beyond the horizon like an endless stretched taffy, is a hall. White. So white that it blinds me and my eyes have to adjust before I can fully open them. The world runs past me and then back again and it feels as if the ground beneath my feet, as white as the walls, is breathing. Like it wants to push me forward. But I stand still for the moment, regaining my world, stitching it back together. When it finally settles, I adhere to the floor’s desire.
Like, okay already!
I walk forward as the hall consumes me like a thick fog.     
Then I stop. I know I have to. I turn to the wall. From the whiteness of it, something starts to shimmer into existence. Like a mirage forcing its way into reality. The mirage starts to take a shape. A door. Black, as smooth as darkness itself. A knob, golden, gleaming in the whiteness of the hall, like an inviting smile. My body moves towards it, followed by a slow hand as its smile seems to grow wider. It’s cold.  It burns my palm. I hear a click, feel it run up my arm. And then a latching sound as it echoes past me and into the never ending, ever stretching hallway until it moves with it over the horizon.
I push. It opens.


Author Bio



Tiaan Lubbe lives in Pretoria, South Africa where he spends his time teaching little monsters, directing
plays, doing what he calls writing and dreaming up the future. Mostly all at once.

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