Myths and Gargoyles by Jamie Hawke (interesting books to read in english txt) 📕

At one point I started to drift off into sleep, but then there was a dream, well a nightmare really. This time both her hands were wrapped around my cock, claws digging in, and I was screaming.

My eyes shot open and I woke up in a cold sweat, and had to check downstairs to be sure everything was healthy. Looking good, but my prospects for sleep weren’t.

I rolled over, pulled my wallet from my pants, and then the sleep study card. Staring at it, I thought that maybe I’d give it a try. Was it too late? Rolling onto my side hurt, but I found my cell and checked. Damn, it was pretty early, actually.

“Hello,” a woman’s voice answered, and it had a bit of that rough, snarky edge to it that I couldn’t be sure, but thought sounded familiar.

“About the sleep study,” I started. “When can I sign up? Will it help me sleep if I’m having nightmares?”

“What kind of nightmares?”

“I’d… rather not say.”

A silence followed, and then the voice said, “Come by the booth tomorrow at eleven a.m. I’ll be there,” and then the line went dead.

That was… weird. I was starting to have doubts, but knew there was no way I’d survive the day tomorrow if I didn’t try something. A nice nap might be just the trick. Also, I couldn’t forget that sword—and the more I thought of it, the heavier my eyelids got, so that soon I was drifting off to sleep again.

3

As much as I’d like to say I slept like a baby the rest of that night, it would be a lie. I kept rolling around, going back and forth between being hot and cold, and even finding the smell of the sheets and blankets maddening—cleaning supplies, old smoke, maybe? All of it was so overwhelming that at one point I just stripped and lay in the bathtub, staring at the ceiling.

Sometimes at college before a big test or when I couldn’t focus, I’d go find a bathroom that wasn’t occupied and stroke one out, just to ease the tension. Tried that too, lying there in that bathroom, but it just wasn’t happening. No matter how hard I pulled and tugged, my mind was off in Crazyville.

By the end of it, I went out onto the patio, forgetting I was naked until two people in a window opposite were pointing and calling over a third, so I went back in and sat in the chair.

Point being—it sucked. Probably the worst night’s sleep of my life.

So when I was back at the conference the next day, wandering around with Chris asking what had happened, I mumbled some response and found him staring at me with concern. We were in a room with our favorite outfits from the Lost Pirates show, and I was staring at my reflection in a mirror on the other side of the main actor’s outfit, complete with the time compass, so it looked like I was the star myself. As far as I knew, I repeated myself, but he shook his head.

“I literally didn’t understand a word you just said,” he told me.

I glanced at my phone and frowned, realizing it was already almost eleven, and told him I had somewhere to go.

“Um, yes, you do,” he said. “We’re both seeing Will Wight talk about his latest Wuxia books, hello? Hoping to get a signature.”

Damn, was that at the same time? For Will Wight I could push through, I told myself. I made it over to Hall A with Chris and found our seating, and he waited anxiously while I sat there feeling really weird. I wondered if I was going to throw up. My vision was blurry, my stomach rumbling. Had I even remembered to eat? I couldn’t be sure. Sitting in the chair, I was feeling drugged out and tired, but even when I closed my eyes… nothing.

“Sorry, I gotta…” I didn’t even finish, just stood and brushed past Chris, heading for the door.

“What the hell?” he called after me, but stayed there. No way in hell was he going to miss a presentation by his favorite author.

A few of the people a couple of rows back laughed as I passed, one even standing with his finger through his fly, like a dick hanging out. If I wasn’t feeling like shit, I probably would’ve punched him. Nah, who was I kidding? That wasn’t my style. But maybe flipped him off, at least. Instead I just gave him a kind of wave of my hand, and was out of there.

My head cleared once I was out in the open again, but it was like walking when you’re slightly drunk but still trying to look sober. Everyone seemed to be having a fun time, laughing, watching performers. There was a group dressed as pirates and singing old pirate songs. I would’ve eaten that stuff up, if only I’d been able to sleep the night before. I’d ruled out anything Crazy Lady had done, thinking it must’ve been something that happened before she bit me. Maybe in my drink at the bar?

There was the booth, right ahead of me. I saw a white swan symbol on a cloth hanging down, and Goth Chick standing with her back to me. Walking up to her, I said, “I’m here.”

She turned and it wasn’t Goth Chick after all. This was another woman, probably nineteen at most, wearing a black cloak, giving her a sort of Kylo Ren look. Except that underneath it she was cute, with a sort of pug nose and beady green eyes.

“Oh, you’re not the one I spoke to yesterday,” I said. Of course, I would’ve said something much more clever if I wasn’t feeling like someone had squished a lemon in my brain.

She smiled in that way that doesn’t show teeth, picked up a paper and pen with a clipboard, and said, “You’re in for the morning session?”

“How long does it take?” I