Not sure if I'm dreaming more lately, or if reading my student's research on dreams is making me more aware of what I dream.
Last night wasn't about being chased.
Last night was a Harlequin Presents dream.
I know, I know, get all your laughing out of the way. First, I love the occasional Harlequin Presents. I loved them all through high school, when I read every one the local library had. Alpha heroes, spunky heroines, exotic locales (hey, London is exotic!), Big Misunderstandings, the Other Woman, secret babies . . . what wasn't to love?
So last night, I had the whole exotic locale (some touristy beachy area with a historic district), the rich, powerful hero, the determined heroine . . . and a secret baby. Although the baby wasn't a baby, but a teenage boy. Not sure why the heroine had kept the child a secret . . . I think she didn't know where the hero was all those years (hey, it was a dream, okay?). Anyway, she had two other children, two daughters in the early teen years. I think they were adopted, but I'm not sure. The alarm woke me up before I got the whole gist of everything, but the feeling of the dream has stayed with me today.
How cool would it be to harness my dreams into novels?