Hi everyone! I really hope you all are having a great time at The Wattpad Block Party!!! I'd like to give an enormous shout-out to Kelly Anne Blount for inviting me and putting this awesome event together.

Most of you probably don't know me because I'm sort of a newbie to Wattpad. My name is Cameo Renae, bestselling young adult author of the Hidden Wings Series (YA Paranormal Romance), and the After Light Saga (YA Post-Apocalyptic/Dystopian Romance).

I wasn't sure what I was going to do for my post, so I decided that I'd share an excerpt from my debut novel, In My Dreams. I recently pulled this book from Amazon to update it and give it a new cover.

This story really means a lot to me. I wrote it shortly after my mother-in-law passed away very quickly to cancer. Her death made me wonder... what happens after we die?

In My Dreams is a YA Paranormal Romance about a young girl who faces this very dilemma.

What would happen if the love of your life suddenly died, and you didn't get the chance to say goodbye? BUT... what if you were given a second chance?

In My Dreams is a gut-wrenching, yet heartwarming story of true love. It had 151 reviews with a 4.8 out of 5 overall rating. I hope you enjoy the excerpt. This novel will be re-releasing within the next month on Amazon but is currently in the editing process.

You can also watch the trailer here:

I hope to use Wattpad more in the future, and look forward to interacting more with all of you!

In My Dreams by Cameo Renae

Excerpt (Part of Chapter 2)

I jerked and my eyes popped open.

"Good morning," a warm voice comforted, "or should I say evening?"

"Michael?" I questioned. My eyes were still focusing.

I definitely wasn't home anymore. It was dark and I was cold. I tried focusing on my surroundings, and the first thing I noticed was the smell of new leather, along with the sweet spice of Michael's cologne. I was in his car.

"Hey, sleepy head," he turned to me and grinned. He reached his hand over, lacing his warm fingers into mine. Always a perfect fit.

Michael was a gentleman. He always looked out for my better interests and never took advantage of me. He had a certain magnetism that drew people in, like a bug to a zapper. Only he zapped with his charm.

His clean-cut, light-brown hair was always disheveled - in a hip way - and his glimmering, chocolate-brown eyes were always wide with life. His features were sharp and chiseled and most signs of his fuller youth had smoothed out and matured very nicely. He looked like a young Hercules and was heavily envied by most jocks.

"How'd I get here?" I asked puzzledly.

"I carried you," he answered matter-of-factly.

"Are you kidding me? I really must have been out cold." I straightened up in my seat, combing my fingers through my hair hoping it wasn't the rat's nest it usually was when I woke up. "What'd you do, sling me over your shoulder?" He chuckled. "So, what took you so long? Why didn't you call me?"

He didn't answer, but a half-smile curved on his full lips. His eyes kept focused on the dark road ahead. "Can you at least tell me where you're taking me?" I was fishing for a response.

"It's a surprise," he said, glancing at me with a wink. "You'll see when we get there." He flashed his perfect white teeth, then carefully lifted my hand and pressed the back of it to his soft lips. My heart fluttered with his tenderness and his touch.

"You know I love you, right?" he asked softly.

"Of course I do. What kind of a question is that?" I asked sarcastically.

He sighed, with a sad sort of grin.

Something didn't seem right. Everything around us seemed way too strange. I was a light sleeper and would wake at the drop of a dime, not to mention someone carrying me out to a car and loading me in. Maybe whatever hit me in the bathroom had a lingering effect.

I glanced out the window and didn't recognize the area. Any of it. And I knew almost every road in town like the back of my hand. This road was different. It was dark and there were no other cars in sight. Actually, I hadn't seen a car since I woke up. But how long was I asleep?

I started feeling a bit uneasy. Red lights from the dashboard glowed eerily through the darkness, softly lighting Michael's face. His eyes seemed distant, pondering. His brow creased down the middle, meaning he was either stressed or sad. He was easy to read. But he knew me just as well and sensing my anxiety, he gently squeezed my hand.

He slowed the car to a stop in the middle of the street. Dark silhouetted spruce trees lined the road on either side, looking like daggers piercing the night sky. Turning to face me, his eyes tenderly searched mine. He pushed his seat back and patted his lap. I unbuckled, slid over, and he wrapped his muscular arms around me. I rested my head on his chest and breathed in his scent. Here I always felt safe. Here I was at peace, wrapped in the warmth of his arms. I felt the heat of his breath on the top of my head as he kissed me.

"Liz," he whispered, carefully lifting my chin to meet his gaze. "I want you to know I will always be here."

"I know. Are you alright?" I asked, focusing on his face.

He leaned down pressing his warm lips against mine, kissing me ever so gently. I closed my eyes as he sent tingles surging through my body. His lips moved slowly to my cheek, then down the nape of my neck. Carefully brushing stray hairs over my ear he whispered lightly, "I love you more than anything in this world."

"I know," I breathed. "I love you, too."

The electricity between us was enough to have lit an entire city. He leaned in and pressed his warm lips against mine, this time unyielding. Waves of pleasure rolled through me as his tongue entwined with mine. My fingers tangled in his thick hair, pushing him closer.

A groan escaped his lips as a phone rang, loudly. But it wasn't a cell phone. It sounded like my house phone. But how? We were in the middle of nowhere.

Then, it stopped.

Michael stiffened. He sighed and gently cradled my face in his hands. His chocolate eyes were intense, boring into mine. Careful. Studying. He smiled, but I could tell something was wrong. I knew him too well and it disturbed me. He was hiding something behind his smile.

"What's wrong Michael?" I whispered. I hated to see him sad. For Michael, it was rare.

The phone began to ring again.

"Where is it coming from?" I asked, looking around in complete confusion for some sort of explanation. It didn't seem to faze him. His eyes were still locked onto me.

"Come here," he said, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me back into his chest. The steady beating of his heart caused me to relax a bit, and I found myself melting into his embrace. His smell was intoxicating. He was intoxicating.

"Forever in my heart," he whispered.

"Forever," I breathed, closing my eyes, squeezing him tightly.

The phone rang again. This was so wrong, and beyond irritating.

"Are you doing that?" I questioned.

He laughed out loud. I adored the sound of his laughter, but I was completely baffled.

"I love you so much, Liz," he said gently, his fingers lightly feathering the side of my cheek. "You'll find answers very soon."

"What answers?" I pulled back to ask him what he meant, but the damn phone rang again. I knew then, everything about this moment was wrong. Very wrong.

"Michael, what's going on?" The air around us began to get colder, and the darkness was even heavier. I felt uneasy and straightened up, gazing into his eyes for answers. He smiled wearily.

"You need to wake up now, Liz."

"What are you talking about?" I questioned, shaking my head.

"You need to wake up, love," he breathed in my ear. He kissed my cheek, and then held me tight within the safety of his arms. I froze. "Liz, always remember how much I love you."

The phone rang louder.

I jerked, and my eyes popped open. I was back on my couch, the TV was blaring, playing an infomercial.

What the heck just happened?

The phone on the side table next to me continued to ring, so I stretched over the arm of the couch and grabbed it.

"Hello?" I said in a sleepy voice.

"Elizabeth?" a deep, strong voice asked on the other end.

"Yes."

"Elizabeth, this is Mr. Young."

It was Michael's dad. What was he doing calling me? He'd never called me before.

"Hi, Mr. Young." I sat up and tried to sound chipper.

"Elizabeth—" he paused. His breath was loud and erratic. "Michael's been in an accident."

Was he crying? It sounded like he was crying. I was speechless, trying to process his words very carefully.

"Is-is he okay?"

A loud wail echoed through the receiver on the other end.

Mr. Young was a tall, strong, handsome man. He was about six-foot-three, medium build and looked like he could've played professional football in his earlier years. He had thick brown hair and dark brown eyes like Michael's. He was a good mixture of Native Alaskan/English from his mother and German from his father. He was a strict but loving father, and one who taught his son that real men never cried. Crying showed weakness. To hear him sobbing like this, it must have been serious.

"Mr. Young, is Michael alright?" I pleaded for an answer. "Mr. Young?"

My heart began to beat hard against my chest, and my stomach twisted in knots. There was a long pause. I couldn't stand it any longer. Before I could say anything, he cleared his throat.

"He – he's... dead," he wailed. "My son is dead." There was a loud thump as the phone on the other end dropped to the ground.

I froze, and it was as if time had stood still. My senses muted. He couldn't have said what I thought he said. He's not dead. Michael can't be dead. He's coming to get me.

I glanced over at the clock. 10:57 P.M. It can't be this late. This can't be happening.

A sudden wave of horror crashed through my body as I flashed back to the dream I'd just had with Michael. Was it really a dream? It seemed so real. I touched, smelled, and had a detailed conversation him. This had to be the dream. I needed to wake up. I needed to wake up now. I needed to get in touch with Michael.

A shuffling on the other end of the phone temporarily halted my reasoning.

"Lizzy?"

This time I knew the voice. It was Mrs. Young. Petite and sweet, Mrs. Young. She had a soft, high-pitched voice that was rarely angered. Her five-six frame was slender and she had light brown hair which cascaded like soft silk down her shoulders.

"Lizzy, are you there?" she said softly.

"Yes, I'm here," I breathed.

"I'm so sorry we had to tell you like this." I could tell she'd been crying. Her voice was soft and weary. Michael was their only child, and their whole world revolved around him.

"What happened?" I asked. The news still hadn't sunk in yet. My mind was still questioning if this was all just a horrible nightmare.

"They don't know exactly how it happened. A couple of tourists, lost on the road to Hatcher Pass, saw headlights in the river. When they pulled over, they found a body in the car and immediately called the police." Her pause and heavy weeping sent my world spiraling. Seconds felt like torturous minutes. "It was him, Lizzy. It was my Michael."

I tried to say something to her, to comfort her, but I couldn't. There were no words in the entire universe which would be fitting. But she continued.

"They said it was probably an accident, and speed might have been a factor. There's a lot of black ice on the roads up there. He must have lost control." By this time, she was sobbing, nearly hysterical. "Why was he there? I don't understand. He said he was leaving to get you. Why? Why?"

I didn't know why. I had no answers. And the same questions raced through my mind.

"Should I come down?" I asked. My voice trembled.

She paused. "No, honey. Don't come down. There is nothing more they can do. They're sending us home now. I'm so sorry Lizzy. We'll call you tomorrow." Before I could say anything else, she hung up.

Darkness slowly encroached into my world. I stood, shaking, with the phone in my hand. "Michael," I whispered, but the word stuck in my throat. As I began to process the call, my whole world came to a crashing halt. Everything became numb and dull. My legs, weak and shaky, managed to carry me to my bedroom, where I fell onto my bed.

Flashes of Michael filled my mind. His face, his smile, continuously played like a slideshow. I wanted to talk to him. I wanted him to call and tell me everything was alright. I wanted him to tell me this was all just a horrible nightmare, and I needed to wake up.

I needed desperately to hear his voice again.

I pried my weakened body off the bed and practically ran to the kitchen counter. I picked up my cell phone and pressed two-talk. My eyes burned as hot as liquid filled them, spilling down my cheeks.

It rang once and went directly to his answering machine, but this time I was glad to hear his voice, even if it was a recording. I dialed his number again and again, desperate to hear his voice.

I was grief stricken, terrified, and alone... all at the same time.

"Michael, you can't be dead. You can't. This can't be happening to me," I cried out loud. Somehow I made it back to my room and realized I wasn't dreaming. I couldn't wake from this nightmare, and I would never again see Michael again. I would never feel his touch, or hear the sound of his voice. We would never have the chance to finish the plans we made. Plans to get married, have children and grow old together. It wasn't fair. Why was this happening to me? Hadn't I already been through enough?

The perceptions of my so-called "perfect life" had disintegrated in an instant, like a torch to a thread. My world became even darker and colder than I ever could have imagined. I felt alone. Entirely abandoned to this dreadful life.

Michael was my strength. He was my rock and my best friend. He was there for me during the hardest times of my life. My life, seemingly cursed with cruelty and unfairness, would now be utterly unbearable.

Hot tears streamed down my cheeks. I clutched my pillow and buried my face deep into it. I didn't want to live anymore. I wanted to go to sleep and never wake up again.

I felt lost and hopeless. I couldn't even call my own mother for help. It would just shove her closer to the edge she was barely able to stand steadily on herself. Besides, she was probably passed out on the couch.

And there was no way I was going to call Emily. Yes, she was my friend, but right now she wasn't the one I needed to talk to. She wouldn't be the shoulder for me like Michael was.

I finally decided to call my mom. Maybe she was up and sober enough to give me some comforting words. After all, that's what mothers are for. Aren't they?

I carefully dialed her number and lifted the phone to my ear. It rang once and it took a while for her to answer.

"Hello?" she whispered.

"Mom? Did I wake you?"

"Oh, Lizzy. Where are you?" she slurred heavily into the receiver. She was wasted, and this was a mistake.

"I'm at my house, mom."

"Lizzy. Don't forget to take the dog out. He'll poop all over the floor."

"Sure mom," I said sadly giving into her delusion. Neither she nor I had ever owned a dog. She hung up the phone without saying goodbye.

I was alone. Entirely alone.

"Why him? Why me?" I screamed to heaven. "How could you take him from me?"

I curled up into a fetal position, and although it seemed like an eternity, I eventually cried myself to sleep.

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Where You Can Find Cameo Renae:

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