GALSYR

Follow Me

     Ronan, was no longer a victim of her imagination. He had earned his place in the real world. The question being: Was she prepared to let him go?

     Ronan turned quickly, tipping his hat, that roguish smile that she had come to love teasing her just before he disappeared through the mirror surface of the portal.

     After all they had been through, how could he just go like that?

 Tarlia felt a sharp twist, the knife of rejection piercing her heart as she watched him leave. He had obviously made his choice.

     Tears flowing down her cheek, Tarlia put her hand in her pocket, but instead of a tissue, she pulled out a piece of paper with two words:

                                                                     'FOLLOW ME.'

     As Arraya typed those final two words, completing the 2nd book in the 'Prisoners of the Soul' Trilogy. Her elation brought tears to her eyes.

     How she loved this man. He felt so real to her. She had created a hero with attitude. One who definitely wasn't perfect. An intelligent, charming rogue; very charismatic to say the least. And yet, it was the childlike qualities inside the man, that endearingly appealed to her.

     Pity men like Ronan were a dying breed. If there was such a man alive, today, she would really, really like to meet him.

     Arraya sighed, powering down her laptop. She had been spending most of her free time inside Ronan's head, to the point she was even dreaming about him.

     She needed to find herself a real man, not just a fictional character.

     Maybe now that she'd finished this book, and since it was the start of school holidays, she could go on a much-needed vacation.

     Meet someone exciting.

     She was ready to be swept off her feet.

     Be romanced.

     A little voice inside, that was the bane of many an argument, spoke up.

     Yeah right.

     So long as he's at least six foot two – to match your five foot eleven – has the most gorgeously seductive smile that you just can't resist. Rippling muscular frame; but not too cut. Silky, light-brown, tousled hair that you just want to run your hands through. Stunning, soft, dreamy blue eyes that you could just stare into all day, and a caring and fun-loving personality...

      'Alright, alright, I get the picture...'

     Let's face it, you're hopeless.

     So far, every man you've met just can't meet up to your expectations... And why? Because your hero... doesn't... exist! Except, of course, inside your head.

    ' What, like you?' she countered.

     You need to get a life. Ronan is your ideal fantasy.

     Forget about the dream.

     How about living in the real world for a change? You want flesh and blood to keep you warm at night, not just words on a page.

     The problem was... he seemed so real. Too real at times.

     Arraya was only twenty-three.