About Dream Child:
"I would give anything to take this away
from her. I would gladly go back to having the nightmares myself – the
very worst ones, the ones that had me waking up screaming in a pool of my own
vomit – rather than see Lizzie go through this..."
As a resident at Children's Hospital,
Sara can handle ninety hour workweeks, fighting to save her young patients from
deadly childhood diseases. But she's about to be faced with a challenge
that all her training and experience haven't prepared her for: her
four-year-old daughter has inherited her ability to see other people's
dreams...
"Dream
Child" is the suspenseful third novel in the "Dreams" series.
About JJ DiBenedetto:
J.J. (James) DiBenedetto was born in
Yonkers, New York. He attended Case Western Reserve University, where as his
classmates can attest, he was a complete nerd. Very little has changed since
then.
He currently lives in Arlington, Virginia
with his beautiful wife and their cat (who has thoroughly trained them both).
When he's not writing, James works in the direct marketing field, enjoys the
opera, photography and the New York Giants, among other interests.
The "Dreams" series is James'
first published work.
Where you can find James:
Buy Links:
Excerpt from Dream Child:
Pete whistles. “Wow,” he says to Lizzie. “An engineer and a doctor. You’ve got some pretty smart parents.” He laughs.
“I’m a Congressman. Do you know
what that is?”
Lizzie answers immediately. “We saw it today! That’s the big white building with the big
round top and the statue at the very tippy-top.”
“That’s where I work,” Pete agrees. “But do you know what we do there?”
Lizzie shakes her head. I’m sure she got a running commentary about
it from her grandmother, even if it probably all went in one ear and straight
out the other. “Didn’t Grandma Helen
tell you about it, when you were out today?”
“She said a lot of stuff,” Lizzie admits,
then she concentrates, trying to remember anything that Helen told her. Compared to ice-skating for the first time,
I’m not surprised that nothing else really stuck with Lizzie. But I’m wrong. “She said – she said – that’s where they tell
everybody in the whole country what to do.”
She fixes Pete with a very serious stare. “Is that your job? Do you tell everybody what to do?”
Pete grins.
“It’s a little bit more complicated than that.”
Lizzie has an immediate answer. “Com – com – comlickpated is what Mommy says
when I ask her and she doesn’t want to tell me something.” I look at Pete apologetically. I guess I’ve kind of raised a monster. On the other hand, she is sort of right. It’s my own fault - if I don’t want her
asking difficult questions, I shouldn’t bring her with me to the hospital.
“There’s no getting anything past you, is
there?” Pete says, still grinning. “Let
me explain it this way. Your parents
don’t tell you what to do every minute, but they make rules for you so you’ll
be safe, and healthy and so you can grow up the way you should. That’s kind of what the Congress does, except
for the whole country.”
Lizzie considers that. “Like no ice cream before dinner and no
running in the street and never ever ever ever touch the ox - oxy - oxygen
machine?”
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