Dream Tattoo: The Dream Series, Book Four

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Sample Chapter

When left alone by the intrusive world, Madison MacMillan relishes the isolated simplicity of life on her farm. She embraces her creative side and provides her custom-designed jewelry for an elite clientele. But, her immerse into business savvy is just the superficial facet of her complex world that revolves around the love of her life, Charlie Brewster, the sexy, confident stranger who stumbles into her life, and the security gauntlet that guards her struggles with her troubled soul and her wounded spirit.

Beautiful beyond words. Sullen begging intrigue. Bearing the weight of the world on her slender shoulders and beneath her pouty mouth, Madison captivates the attention she so despises of men who love her and hurt her and try to destroy her. Blaine Montgomery has left the deepest scar of all. She hides her anguish in elaborate tattoos strategically inked to hide her pain from others, infinity reminders of how her body has betrayed her. But, her quiet crusade to take Montgomery down before he can hurt other women is foiled by his arrest, forcing her tie to his dark world out from the shadows.

The only thing that could lure her from her own demons is a threat to her family. Madison bares her soul to reveal the secret to his demise and the reason she fears her own.
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Dream-Tattoo-Book-4-ebook/dp/B0161OHEIO/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1443747062&sr=8-1&keywords=dream+tattoo+jayelle
Bn: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dream-tattoo-jayelle-thorne/1122731053?ean=2940150895812

Sample Chapter

Chapter One

As the light switch of day flips on the skyline hues and crawls across the steep-pitched slate shingles of stately homes, hired hands scurry whisper-quiet amid the hissing of sprinkler spews nestled among the well-coifed landscapes. It pleads for a fresh canvas, a broad paintbrush, a colorful palette to capture its simple magnificence. Its majestic charm. Its enviable pretense.

But, the beauty of the scenery is spoiled with dread. Dread is finding a foothold on my fragile splinters and my mounting trepidation. Dread is gnawing a hole through my cautious shut door and my penetrated rage. Dread is unraveling my tenacity through a veil of silent frothed recoil.

Bad is coming.?

Dark is descending.?

Evil is gripping.?

I rub the infinity loop tattoo, curse the never-ending cycle of uncomfortable familiar too close by, and wish for the shelter of unobtainable respite too far away.

Charlie puts his arm around me and pulls me close. Josh places his hand over my wrist and stills my rotating fingers. I enter the room feeling like the convicted on the path paved with have-to, but not want-to, and certainly not need-to.

They’re all there.?

My four sisters.?

Brooklyn puts her arm around my waist and walks me to the window seat where she had been waiting for me. Carson sits on my right. And, Raleigh and Savannah sit across from us between me and the door.?

Guarding me? Holding me against my will? Or shaming me to stay??

I’m not sure.

I feel Charlie and Josh. They are always watching me. I don’t have to look up to know that. They want me to reassure them I’m okay. I’m not. But, I give them the nod they want and they leave, closing the door.?

The silence is ear-curdling and body-shivering. I’m not sure what they want from me. I’m not sure what I can give them. I’m so angry. They don’t know this anger. I don’t know if they can handle it. I don’t know if I can control it.

Carson takes a deep breath, and she begins to speak in a shaken tone that is murmur quiet and raspy chopped and eerily unfamiliar.

“When we were little girls, we knew all was right with the world because our parents loved us and we had one another. We were invincible, special, loved, adored, cherished. I wish we could go back there and never leave. I wish bad things never happened. I wish bad people didn’t exist. I wish I wasn’t one of those bad people. But, I am.”

She stops. And, I realize there are raindrops falling from the dark clouds in her eyes. I touch her hand and our little fingers curl like we did for pinkie swears.?

“I hurt people. I do it for a living. They pay me to hurt them because I know how, and I’m good at it. I don’t like to do it, but I have to. I have to go to a dark, depraved, sick place. That’s where she lives inside me, the one he molded into the likeness of him. The one he’s so proud of. The one he created when he raped me. That’s when Satteen emerged.”

Savannah gasps and I feel Raleigh wrapping strength around our baby sister. I don’t have to see it. I know Raleigh is comforting her. She is that kind. That good. I long for that comfort. ?

Panic is coming.?

I need to touch the infinity loop, but I don’t dare let go of Carson.?

I rub my left leg hard with my free wrist.?

Brooklyn takes my left arm. Turns my hand over. Rolls the leather strings away. She rubs the tattoo. Softly. Slowly. Sadly.

She feels the scar.?

And, I let her.?

I am comforted.?

I recognize the bond of sorrow beside me.?

I know that sorrow.

One by one, my sisters brave their treacheries. They bare their souls, and sacrifice their demons. The details of their attacks are uncomfortably familiar.

I have lived them.

I have endured them.

I have survived them.?

My mind struggles with the darkness, and I strain to hear Brooklyn’s words over the mire and the muck and the echoes are flashing electric currents through my brain.?

“What he did to us, he plans to do to you. All of you. Our little sisters. The ones we should protect. Keep safe from bad things. From bad people. From?”

They know, but they didn’t set me up.

They know, but they didn’t lead me into a trap.

They know, but they didn’t intend to make me talk.

The room goes quiet when I stand and unbutton my blouse and step away from the window and turn my back.

I slip my blouse off and drop it on the floor.?

I loosen my bra and discard it.?

I slip my slacks off my hips, and wrap my hand around my long hair. Pulling it from my back around my shoulder over my breast.

I reveal the Mona Lisa tattoo with the Medusa hair that flows up the curving wisp of a line traveling up my spine.

Now unhidden.

Now bared.

Now on full public display.

No longer a secret.

Carson is the first to touch me. She traces the wisp and reads, “Per aspera ad astra.”

Raleigh whispers, “Reach for the stars. What mama always told us to do?”

“It also means through hardship to the stars,” Savannah says softly.

?“To gaze upon Medusa’s head, swathed in serpents, turns onlookers to stone.” Carson continues. “But the Mona Lisa smile draws you in. Compels you. Taunts you. Tempts you.”

Brooklyn is the one who sees. She gently touches the place just below the base of my spine before it separates into the division of my buttocks. “B.G.M. He carved his initials in you. He scarred you most of all.”

I stand there clad in panties clutching my breasts. Head downcast. Eyes closed. Barely breathing. Wishing I wasn’t.

Their fingers slice into the raw.?

Their words char into the singe.?

Their tears disintegrate into the blaze edged in ice.

One at a time, my sisters gently put their arms around me.

And, they cry.

When sobs subside, Carson slips my bra over my arms and Raleigh pulls my blouse around me. Savannah helps me into my slacks and Brooklyn puts my hair back behind my ears.?

They return to their seats, and I stand there alone not looking toward them. Not wanting to see the distraction of their faces or the aversion in their eyes. The collapse of their poise.

Just descending.


Going backward.

Drifting toward departure from civilization to that abyss that should not be articulated. Should not be witnessed. Should not be eavesdropped.

“It was a glorious day. The sun was shining. There were people milling about. Happy to find such beautiful, healthy vegetables in the garden. Plucking and toting their treasures to the cash register that was non-stop ring-ups. I was explaining the flax material of my dress to a lady, and he admired my necklace.”

I turn around, rubbing the base of my neck where the necklace had laid against my skin that day. His touch is still scorched into my skin. The weight of the silver like a noose around the chokehold of my life.

“He asked if it was okay for him to touch the necklace because he was so drawn to its beauty. A very unusual request. One I would normally decline and just take the customer to see a similar necklace on display. But, his eyes?. His eyes pierced my soul. They frightened me. I don’t remember saying yes or nodding, but I remember his hands reaching toward the necklace and his fingers stroking my skin. I flinched at his touch. And, he laughed.”

Carson slumps and Brooklyn pulls me to sit beside her and outstretches her arm behind me, pulling Carson into the comfort she is trying to give both of us.

“I said something about the display and other customers needing me. And, I got away from him as quickly as I could. But, he stayed and he watched me all day. Sometimes there are buyers who come to the farm and they watch the customers to see what they’re interested in, what they gravitate to. So, I wasn’t sure if he was a buyer or a supplier or an investor or just a curious onlooker.”

Savannah is crying and Raleigh is stroking her hair.

“That evening, we had the festival we do at the end of the season. All the townspeople love to come out for it, especially the little children, because we carve pumpkins.”

?“When was this, Madison? When did this happen?” Brooklyn asks.

“The third day of October, on my twenty-third birthday.”

Brooklyn leans her head on my shoulder. We both understand sad birthdays. She buried people she loved and I suffered another kind of death.

I cannot sit in the comfort of my sisters. I don’t feel worthy of comfort. I sit on the floor. Cross-legged. And, my sisters join me. They hold hands. They clasp my arms because my hands are limp and lifeless and stony cold.

“With all of the people and all of the chaos, I forgot about him. It was when I was straightening the rag dolls that evening, getting ready to lock up, that I saw him there. In the Shoppe. In the shadows. And, he came at me. Not asking for permission to touch me this time. Covering my mouth and sticking something in my neck and watching my eyes fade. I remember the fear. I remember the sting. I remember the stench of him so near. I remember everything going black.”

I swallow.?

My spit gags.?

I’m going back to that place.?

That horrible night.

“When I woke, I was naked and tied to a bed in a room I didn’t recognize. But, I saw a camera on a tripod and I could hear the camera lens zoom in and I turned my head away. I didn’t want to look at it. I didn’t want to look at whoever or whatever was looking at me.”

Raleigh leans her head on my shoulder. She’s crying. She’s trembling. She’s shuddering.

“When I opened my eyes, he was standing there. Naked. Smiling. And, he climbed on top of me. That’s when I realized how much pain I was in. He told me it was alright to cry this time. That’s why he left the gag off me. He wanted to hear me scream. But, I didn’t scream. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. It was my weak defiance. It was my pithy courage. It was my only revenge. And, I clung to it with every fiber of my being. No matter what he did. No matter how times he did it. I didn’t beg him to stop. I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. But, I was screaming and crying and begging in my head.”

“The devil.” Carson says.

“Lucifer.” Savannah moans.

“Satan.” Raleigh cries.

“El Diablo.” Brooklyn whispers.

I reach across the way to Brooklyn. “El Diablo comes in many forms. And, he punishes us in many ways. But, no matter how hard he tries, he can’t take our souls. He can never take our souls. And, that really pisses him off.”

They laugh. And, I’m glad for the pause. Humor, even if it’s the bizarre kind, is the awkward funny cousin everyone likes to come for a visit.

“But, there are consequences to being strong. To looking El Diablo in the eye and spitting in it.”

“You didn’t!” Raleigh exclaims.

“I did. He should have gagged me. That was his mistake. And, it shocked him. And, it angered him. And, then, it pleased him. So, he licked my face. I wanted to throw up. But, I didn’t flinch. I took it. And, that confused him.”

Carson is leaning forward, and I see the fear in her eyes.

“You’re right, Carson. He doesn’t like surprises. And, he doesn’t like disobedience. Bad girls have to be punished. They have to be spanked and they have to be fucked. Hard. That’s what he told me. And, that’s what he did.”

?Savannah is so pale. I think she might pass out. She would if Raleigh wasn’t holding her. I’m sure of it. But, I continue.

“He tied my hands together and my legs together, and I thought he was going to pull my hair out by the roots when he yanked me off that bed and into his lap. We were spanked as little girls. Aunt Lydia thought a switch, a hand, a belt spoke louder than a thousand talking-tos, and made a stronger impression than a grounded-home, or hurt more than a room-banish. But her spankings felt like child’s play compared to what he did.”

The slap of his hand on my bare buttocks was so painful and so degrading and so humiliating and is still so real.

I know there are grown women who like being spanked by a grown man.

I know there are people into that kind of behavior.

I don’t judge them or look down on them.

I get sexuality?the turn-ons, the fetishes, the degrees of eroticism. I enjoy my sex life immensely. But, that wasn’t pleasurable. That wasn’t consensual. To him, it was foreplay before sex. Spanking me?the appetizer, the hors d’oeuvre?before raping me?the entr?e, the main course. But, to me, all of it was torture.

“Then he raped me. Fucked me? repeatedly. And, he pranced around the room. Laughing and dancing. Proclaiming a soul mate after all. Someone who understood. Who got it. Who loved it as much as he did. The best so far. The one who would be hard to top. Not an achievement I was striving for, I assure you.”

I bite my lip.?

I don’t know if they can handle my anger.?

I don’t know.

“He was so cocky. So full of himself. Bragging. Bragging about others. He was laughing and talking and he ? he was talking about my sisters ? he said your name, Carson. I don’t think he knew he said your name. But, he did. And, he said you were his sheer pleasure. A conquest he had lusted after for years, waiting until you became of age when the sex wouldn’t be considered statutory under the law.”

He thought he was having sex with her.

He thought he was having sex with me.

Making love kind of sex, not the rape kind of sex. He thought he was doing us a favor.

It gags me. It chokes my indignation. And I cough to clear my throat.

“And, you were everything he imagined you would be. He said he did things to you he’d never done before. He learned new depths to his pleasure. So, that’s why he put your eyes in the Mona Lisa portrait. He loved sitting at his desk and looking at your eyes. That’s all he had to do to go back to that incredible night of pleasure-pain and unbridled eroticism and sizzling passion. Because your eyes said it all. And, he was most appreciative of you. Because you opened the doors to all of the carnal pleasures his mind could now entertain and pursue into reality with the rest of us.”

Carson is gasping.

And, I know she is hurting bad.

But, you can’t jump off a rollercoaster mid-ride.

“When he had you, Brooklyn, he said you were his sweet revenge. You were such an easy target because of that pathetic asshole of a husband you had. His drugged stupor had loosened his tongue and he bragged of how he kept you in line by beating you. And, you kept coming back for more. So, he knew he would have fun with you. And, you didn’t disappoint. You were terrified. So easy to traumatize. When you arched your back to move your face away from his, that’s when he decided your neck would be his Mona Lisa neck. He likes to touch that part of the portrait and think about your pale, soft skin strained against the force of his passion and your feigned inability to fight him off and your ultimate submission to him. Like a dance. An erotic dance you both know, and where it was heading, but you enjoyed the tease.”

Brooklyn is trying to rub her neck away in disgust, and moving her head in shrugged pain, moaning sad little moans that are barely audible, but filled with so much agony.

“Me. He liked my mouth. He put all sorts of things in my mouth. Disgusting. Horrible. Sickening. But, he said, no matter what he did, my mouth went back to that same little pout. The teasing pout. The one that draws him in. Makes him want more. So, that’s what he decided would go on the Mona Lisa to remind him of me. The mouth that wouldn’t speak. That wouldn’t scream. That wouldn’t beg him to stop. That wouldn’t tell him no. The mouth, the pouty smile, that kept inviting him back in.”

“What did you do, Madison? What did you do to him?” Carson is asking, but I don’t know if she wants to know.

I know the others don’t want to know.

I wish I didn’t.

“I used the mouth he loved so much to give him the most pleasure and the most pain he would ever have.”

“No. You didn’t. Did you? What did you do?” Raleigh is wide-eyed, her mouth is wide open, and her raw is exposed.

“I bit him. And, he screamed like a girl. And, he cried. He begged me to stop. But, I held tight and when he tried to pull out, I tore a piece of him off, and I swallowed it.”

Carson has a strange look on her face. And, I can see she is remembering something. She tilts her head. She tightens her eyes. And, then she smiles strangely.?

She laughs until I say, “He grabbed a knife and flipped me over. He jammed it into my back almost going to the bone of my spine, and he ripped me and stabbed me and tore me. I didn’t know at the time he was carving his initials in me. I thought he was trying to cut my insides out through my back. And, I was glad. Because I thought he was killing me. And, I wanted to die.”

I get up and I walk.?

I need to walk.?

I need to move.?

I can still feel that blade slicing my skin.?

I have to rub the infinity tattoo.

I have to feel the little scar.

“He crawled to the door, screaming obscenities. And, when he opened it, men came swarming in. While he was attended to, he screamed at them to rape me. He ordered all of them to rape me. But, they didn’t. They wouldn’t even look at me. They made a barricade around me with their backs to me. And that made him very angry. Then, I realized his screams seemed far away and that’s when I thought they were going to attack me.”

That fear seeps in.?

That overwhelming terror.

That fog creeping with nowhere to hide.

“They removed the ropes and they wrapped me in a sheet. They lifted me onto the bed. And, they left me alone with a woman, a kind little woman who didn’t speak much English. I remember her short, shiny, almost black hair. Cut in a boxy style with severe, thick bangs.”

Carson and Brooklyn exchange looks.

But, it is Raleigh who speaks. “I know who that was. That was Aksana.”

“You know her?”

“So does Carson. She works at Blaine’s hunting cabin, in Fort Worth. Was she there with you, Carson?”

“I don’t remember her being there. I don’t remember anyone being there. But, someone tended to my wounds and stopped the bleeding. I just didn’t know who it was.”

“The doctor told me that whoever packed me did such a good job it saved my life. Otherwise, I would have bled out before I got to the hospital for the surgery.” Brooklyn has a strange look on her face. “She knows. She knows what happened to us. She’s our witness.”

?“And, the men who came in the room,” Raleigh says in a light-bulb click exclaim. “The ones who helped you. They know. Do you know any of them?”


They are afraid to ask.

So, I tell them.

“They are here today.”

Savannah gulps and coughs the overdose of air.

“They have been staying with me on the farm ever since that night. They never left me. Charlie’s not one of them. None of your guys are. Not Trevor or Miguel. Not Tucker. But, Josh is. And the others you saw today, the ones you don’t know. They help me on the farm. They keep a watch out for him. They won’t let him near me. They protect me from him.”?

I pause.

It’s time.

“I’ll be right back.”

I return with my Charlie, my Josh, Brooklyn’s Miguel, Raleigh’s Trevor, Carson’s Grant, and Savannah’s Jack.?

“You guys need to tell them. They need to know. And, they need to hear it from you.”

I sit down on the window seat and lock arms with my sisters.?

A kind of MacMillan brigade.?

We’re ready.?

2 reviews for Dream Tattoo: The Dream Series, Book Four

  1. Redrabbitt

    This is a series that really needs to be read in order; the life of the MacMillian sisters and what one evil, sadistic man has down to them. These stories are edgy, dark, and intense and will suck you in and keep the pages turning. The cast of characters are complex and the dialog is raw, emotional, heart wrenching and honest. This story focuses on Madison and the demons she is fighting. Just when life seems to be balancing out, trouble comes calling and puts her life and plans in a tail-spin. Can Maddie and Charlie find happiness and is love enough? What has them on an emotional high one day turns into sadness the next. I look forward to the next story and to see the MacMillian sisters overcome evil and hopefully they will each find their HEA ending.

  2. Redrabbitt

    This is a series that really needs to be read in order; the life of the MacMillian sisters and what one evil, sadistic man has down to them. These stories are edgy, dark, and intense and will suck you in and keep the pages turning. The cast of characters are complex and the dialog is raw, emotional, heart wrenching and honest. This story focuses on Madison and the demons she is fighting. Just when life seems to be balancing out, trouble comes calling and puts her life and plans in a tail-spin. Can Maddie and Charlie find happiness and is love enough? What has them on an emotional high one day turns into sadness the next. I look forward to the next story and to see the MacMillian sisters overcome evil and hopefully they will each find their HEA ending.

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