I panicked somewhere in the middle of the editing process for Animal Dreams.  I was worried that the story was missing "something", so I committed one of the cardinal sins of writing: I wrote a prologue.  But not just any prologue -- a dream-sequence prologue.  A double no-no.  My editor and critique partner handled my dementia with care: They agreed that while there was nothing wrong with the prologue, per se, it weakened the beginning of the book.  I trust them both, especially in moments when I don't trust myself, so out it went.

PLEASE NOTE: This is a deleted scene, and does  not appear in the book Animal Dreams.

ANIMAL DREAMS ©

Prologue

She was dreaming again.  She knew it even as her skin prickled from the heat of the afternoon sun, and the gentle breeze teased her hair around her shoulders.  She stood in the middle of the large field and waited.  It wouldn’t be long now. 
            She had been here many times before, but never when she was awake.  It was as familiar to her as her own home in the city now, maybe even more so.  Birds chirped loudly in the distance, and the air was heavy with the scent of the earth and grass.  It seemed so real.  Maybe that’s why she felt more alive here than anywhere else.
            The ground vibrated softly under her bare feet and she knew he was coming.  The horse crested the hill in a burst of motion, thundering toward her, his deep black coat glinting blue in the bright sunlight.  As usual, her breath caught in her throat at the magnificent sight of him.
            He came to a graceful stop a few feet from her.
            I’ve been waiting, she chided.
            Not as long as I’ve been waiting for you, love.  She smiled, shaking her head at his nonsense, and stepped forward.
            She brought her hand up to stroke his strong neck, marveling at the warmth of him under her hands.  He had his summer coat, but his fur was still long and thick between her fingers and soft as silk.  He lowered his head, and she rubbed her cheek against his.  When she inhaled, she took in his vibrant, wild scent.
            He nudged her with his nose.  Let’s go.
            She mounted him easily from the ground – it was a dream, after all – and they took off across the field.  She laughed in delight; she felt like they were flying over the lush countryside.  She felt free.
            But it wouldn’t last.
            She threaded her fingers more tightly through the horse’s long mane, comforted by the solid hairs in her hands, and pushed aside the thought of her life outside her dreams.  This was where she belonged, with this horse.  And maybe this time she would get lucky.  Maybe, this time, she wouldn’t wake up.