Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Review Dream Job by Mickey J. Corrigan

Title: Dream Job
Source: Request
Genre: Sci/Fi Romance
Length: Novella
Publisher : Breathless Press
 

He’s the hot, sexy man of her dreams. 
And her new boss.
 But someone else is dreaming about her, 
someone even more dangerous…



After Adrianna sleeps with her hunky boss, she has to face him every day at the office of DreamCorp International. She has to test the company’s dream software with him in the office hot tub. She has to ignore the fact that his touch drives her to peaks of ecstasy she’s never experienced before. And that she’s fallen madly in love with him.

To make her life in tropical Florida even more confusing, Adrianna is plagued by disturbing dreams. Davis, one of those forgettable men she’d rather not think about anymore, a geeky guy she never should have slept with, stalks her. Davis has other ideas. He still wants her, and he plans to have her—in the murky dream world they appear to share.

Something strange is happening to Adrianna. And it’s making her wonder about her dreams. Are dreams more than a random rehash of day-to-day images, repressed sexual urges, and memory fragments? Could it be that dreams are the entry way to another world? A real world? A hyper real world?

Whether she wants to or not, Adrianna is about to find out all about the dream world. After all, she’s landed her Dream Job. And she’s in love with the man of her dream.

Well, now that my mind has officially been blown let me introduce you to the wonderfully weird novella that is Dream Job.

I suppose when you're reading a book about dreams and the manipulation of them you should be prepared for some weirdness. Mix that with the odd personalities of the main players and what you get is a downright bizarre experience.  Don't get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoyed Dream Job, it just had different 'feeling' than what I was expecting.  Think The Matrix + The Twilight Zone.

Adrianna, the female lead, comes off a bit harsh at the beginning.  She drinks a tad too much and casually dismisses Davis, a guy that fancies himself in love with her.  Hamm is her new boss that she falls instantly for.  Both keep turning up in her dreams; Davis in an antagonistic roll and Hamm in a more erotic one. Davis isn't really trying to abduct her in her dreams, and Hamm isn't really her lover?  They're just silly dreams?             Right? 

For something a little different check out Dream Job.  You'll come away with a delightfully surreal experience you'll not soon forget. 


 *Excerpt
Hamm and I made love on a bright green blanket under the shade of a huge, fragrant magnolia tree. He unbuttoned my cotton shirt so slowly I thought I would scream. Then he lavished my breasts with gentle licking kisses until I could no longer stand the pleasure. I absolutely had to have him inside me and it was all I could do to control the urge to scream. When he slid inside me, his thick member throbbing with excitement, I groaned and came instantly. Hamm eased himself in and out, rocking me gently, until my throat ached from screaming. He made love to me like we had all the time in the world. Afterward, we lazed about, picnicking on green apples and rye bread, sharp cheese and iced tea. Then we walked hand in hand through a wide field. The air smelled like pine and freshly dug dirt. 

"Have you ever encountered dreamstalkers while working on something at DCI?" I asked Hamm. In the dream I was having, that's how I thought of Davis, as a dreamstalker.

Hamm stopped and pulled me close. We were both barefoot, and he had his shirt off. His tanned abs rippled in the sunshine. When I nuzzled his hairless brown chest, I could feel his heart beating against my face, and I wanted to lose myself in his embrace. Instead, I looked up at him.

"Tell me what you mean," he said.
I touched his face. His beard stubble was as auburn as my freckles. I ran my fingers across his wet lips. I knew I was dreaming, but I didn't care. It felt good to tell him about Davis.

"This is a serious problem," Hamm said when I finished describing the Davis dreams. He tightened his grip on me. "These are dream invasions. This idiot could screw up everything." Hamm pulled away and grabbed my hand as he started back toward our wicker picnic basket. "This has to end. And I'll need your help to make that happen."

We gathered up the checkered tablecloth, the black china plates, the crystal tumblers. "How am I supposed to help?” I asked, shaking out the crumbs from the linen napkins. Overhead, a deep rumbling announced the thunderclouds moving in.

"You'll see," Hamm said.

Then I woke up.





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