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Romance of My Dreams [MultiFormat]
eBook by Lisa Rene' Smith
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eBook Category: Romance
eBook Description: Enjoy ten romantic journeys--a dreamy variety of stories that span the ages--from modern times back to ancient Mesopotamia. Night of Enchantment by Cornelia Amiri If you love the popular TV show Merlin, you'll love "Night of Enchantment". A warrior, a king, a man in love, Uther Pendragon, with druid magic, breaches the Dark Age fortress of Tintagel. Uther and Igerna's passionate, forbidden love is the stuff that dreams are made of. Coming of Age by Laurel Lamperd If I Make It Through Winter by Kay Bailey Jessica didn't know what would happen to her and her children. Her husband was now dead. She knew that Nebraska Territory was no place to raise these children. Not alone. Her intervention between a young Indian girl and the girl's abductors leads to desires and opportunities that Jessica did not even dare dream about. Third Time's for Keeps by Caitlyn Hunter Jan and Keith have had two chances at love but mistakes and misunderstandings tore them apart both times. When they meet again over twenty years later, can they put the past behind them and make their third time for keeps? The Ice Storm by D.K. Christi A young woman's obsession with her lover haunts her road trip north to visit her parents. Hiking in autumn splendor at Red Top Mountain is followed by danger in a devastating ice storm that blurs the lines between life and death. She reaches across eternity for the arms of her love, but eternity has to wait. The Man in Gray by Ellen Dye No-nonsense Laura Jamison has two feet on the ground and no time for the recurring dream she's been having nightly. But, thanks to fate, she's about to learn that sometime's dreams can become reality? Game, Set, Love Match by Chelle Martin Tennis fans will enjoy the US Open setting in Flushing Meadows, New York. When a cell phone causes a championship to be lost, can love be found? Déjà vu by Teresa Leigh Judd A chance encounter with a beautiful woman in San Francisco haunts a man for twenty five years. He is unable to forget about her. Then one day he sees her picture on a bus placard and at long last is able to find the girl of his dreams. Adjusting Entries by Susanne Rose Meghan Durran spent long days working with black-and-white figures that balanced perfectly with time, effort, and a few adjusting entries. If only her love life could be that simple. The Princess and the Sculptor by Cornelia Amiri A tale of a love so strong it crosses the class boundaries of ancient Mesopotamia and defies a king. In 2800 BC, a humble sculptor's haunting dream leads him to the love of his life, but could also spell his death.
eBook Publisher: L&L Dreamspell/L&L Dreamspell, Published: Spring, Texas, 2009
Fictionwise Release Date: August 2009
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Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: eReader (PDB) [189 KB]
, ePub (EPUB) [207 KB]
, Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [165 KB]
, Portable Document Format (PDF) [625 KB]
, Palm Doc (PDB) [185 KB]
, Microsoft Reader (LIT) [290 KB]
, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [221 KB]
, hiebook (KML) [474 KB]
, Sony Reader (LRF) [285 KB]
, iSilo (PDB) [152 KB]
, Mobipocket (PRC) [191 KB]
, Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [261 KB]
, OEBFF Format (IMP) [255 KB]
Words: 57561
Reading time: 164-230 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Portable Document Format (PDF) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
ISBN: 9781603180597
 
Adaggio Johansson eyed his opponent across the net as he wiped the sweat from his brow and tossed the towel back to one of the linesman. Not surprisingly, it was a hot and humid day in New York for the U.S. Open Men's Semifinal Match. So close, so close, he thought, looking at the scoreboard to confirm what he already knew. Two more points. Just two more points, then on to the final. Your first Grand Slam. Adaggio drew in a deep breath before letting the air escape slowly through puffed cheeks. It was a relaxation technique, but whoever had developed it had apparently never been in a tennis semifinal before. His legs ached from going five sets today, another five with his previous opponent. He couldn't afford to lose now; he'd worked too hard. He would prove he was better than his 25th seed ranking. The Brazilian, Enrique Cortez, would not advance to the final. Serve to his backhand, he told himself. Then set it up for a shot down the line. Adaggio positioned himself at the baseline and tossed the ball up ... Rrrrrinnnng! ... and powered a 120 miles per hour serve at his opponent's backhand. Whose bloody mobile phone is ringing? The distraction threw Adaggio's aim off. The ball landed within the service box, but not where he had hoped to place it. The Brazilian fired a beautiful return, forcing Adaggio to alter his course. Instead of hitting to Enrique's backhand, Adaggio directed the ball cross-court. Phones were supposed to be turned off, dammit. This time his opponent hit to Adaggio's backhand, but Adaggio managed another cross-court return. Then, as Adaggio tried to dash back to the center line, his foot slipped, giving him a slow start toward his next intended position on the court. Voice an objection. The Chair had to have heard the ringing. Enrique fired a shot down the base line. Adaggio would have to swing on the run and hope for the best. But as he slid into position and tried to get under the ball, he heard a popping noise in his right knee. A moment later he was on the ground in pain. No! This can't be happening, Adaggio told himself. Breathe, breathe. He rolled over and motioned for his trainer. In a moment, Benito Suarte, was hovering over him. "'Daggio," he said, "what happened? Where's the pain?" "What happened is a bloody mobile phone. Didn't you hear it? I've got to finish, mate. I can do it on the next point." Benito tried to straighten Adaggio's leg, feeling along the area surrounding his knee. Adaggio cried out in pain most everywhere he touched, and the area was swelling rapidly. "Think you can stand?" Benito asked, offering his shoulder for support. With one agonizing move, Adaggio was up on his feet. He could still hear the mobile phone ringing in his mind. Could see the ball traveling full speed down the baseline. Could hear the popping noise. The crowd was one huge murmur of speculation. Off to his right and a few rows back, a loud argument erupted. Adaggio scanned the crowd. Was that where the phone had gone off? Shooting pain returned his attention to the court. "Let me see you walk," Benito said. Adaggio tried placing his weight on the injured leg. One step. Two steps. The swelling made the area stiff, numb. He hobbled, nearly fell. Benito didn't have to tell him the prognosis. "I'm sorry, my friend," his trainer finally said. A lump worked its way up Adaggio's throat. He nodded to Benito, who assisted him to the Chair. The dreaded question hurt his ears. "Will you be withdrawing, Mr. Johansson?" "Yes," Adaggio replied through teeth gritted in both anger and pain. He then smashed his racquet on the court, breaking it. "And I want you to find the person who cost me the match."
* * * *Marilee Webb froze as a man appeared out of nowhere, produced a camera and clicked away, the film advancing automatically with a whirring noise. She threw her arms up in protest, but she couldn't protect herself from the disparaging comments being flung at her from all directions. "Look what you've done!" "How could you be so stupid?" "Don't you know you're supposed to turn your phone off during the match?" "You've ruined his chance at the championship. Maybe his whole career." "Way to go, lady!" The last one obviously coming from a fan of the Brazilian player. Where is Suzanna? How long does it take her to make a trip to the ladies room? And why did she leave her bag with me? With a phone in it yet! Marilee shifted uneasily in her seat, wishing her friend would hurry up and come to her rescue. She felt like a criminal. And why shouldn't she? She was being treated like one. Her replies came as fast as the questions, but the excuses sounded lame, even to her. "The phone isn't mine," she said. "I didn't know it was in there." "If I didn't know it was in there, how could I know it was on?" "I'm sorry." The last two words she must have uttered a dozen times while trying to fight her way over the spectators in her row. She stepped on several pairs of feet, doused a man with his drink, and fell into a woman's lap before nearly stumbling into the aisle in her haste to get away. Suzanna could find her own way back to the hotel, she thought. Marilee's hands shook as she clutched both her and Suzanna's bags and made a run for the center court exit. Once in the promenade, she didn't stop until she reached the parking lot and her blue BMW. But her troubles didn't stop there. She dropped the keys twice in trying to hit the remote to unlock the door. Marilee could picture an angry mob trailing behind her, carrying torches and wielding baseball bats. Well ... maybe tennis racquets. Poor Adaggio. Was he all right? The remote chirped twice, and the locks clicked open. Duh, Marilee. If he was all right, he wouldn't have had to leave the match. And he had looked right at her. Like an animal in pain. A sleek, muscular, animal. Oh, geez. How could she think of him in that way under these circumstances? She didn't want to think of him at all. She didn't want to think of the cell phone ringing. She didn't want to think. She just wanted to lie down in her hotel room and wait for Suzanna to get back so she could ... Well, she'd think of something. Marilee tossed in the bags, slid behind the wheel, locked the doors, revved up the engine, and didn't look back.
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