Sleep Travelers

Book 1 The Story of Ning, Dog, and Boss

Hello, friends! Today I want to introduce you to my book titled

Sleep Travelers  Book 1 The story of Ning, Dog, and Boss

This book will be featured at the LA Times Book Festival on the campus of UCLA. On April 22-23. I plan to read one chapter daily of this book and, when finished, a chapter a day of the sequel called Sleep Travelers Book 2, The Amusement Park.

A child’s imagination is a wonderful thing and must be encouraged. They vividly imagine being the Captain of their Pirate ship, the hero of their adventure, handsome, beautiful, brilliant, and strong. They conquer the world and do anything and everything. The lucky ones keep that childhood wonder! It is so sad many adults lose it on the long bumpy road to adulthood. This is the story of a young girl named Dawnie, who will never lose that childhood wonder. 

Okay, onward and upward!

These chapters are so short I have included 2 Chapters

Chapter 10  Hunger strikes

 “Beauty, that sounds like fun, but in our sleep state, I don’t know if we can eat anything,” Dog said sadly.

“Now, wait a minute.  We are able to think of ourselves in any place we want to be, swim underwater and not worry about breathing, and make ourselves smaller to fit in Orchid’s pool.  Shouldn’t we be able to eat stuff, too?” Tigger insisted.

“I wonder?” Thought Dog.

“It would be wonderful eating hot dogs, hamburgers, french fries, and sweet drinks, and no one telling us that they aren’t nutritious enough for us or limiting how much we eat.” Said a determined Dawnie.

Dog, still thinking about food, said, “I agree that sounds great, but there is one tiny flaw in your plans.”

“I don’t see any problem.  We raid the food court and eat everything in sight.” Said Tigger standing on his hind legs with his front paws crossed in front of his chest. That sight should have given Dog food for thought (pun intended), but his objection was pushed to the back of his mind. He became caught up in the idea of a food frenzy, so he laughed and decided to go with the flow.  

Chapter 11 The race is on 

The crew ran through the Zoo to the Food Shack, screeching to a stop in front of the closed doors creating a pileup of bodies. Good thing no one could be hurt.   

“Oh shucks, I didn’t think about it being closed.” Said Tigger with a disappointed look on his face, finally untangling himself from the heap.

“That was one of the tiny flaws I was trying to tell you about when you all took off running.” Said Dog.

“Who is going to do the cooking? I was so looking forward to some of those french fries you talked about.” said a sad Beauty.

“Yeah, and one of those juicy Burgers sounds so good I can almost taste it,” Said Tigger with a hungry look on his face.  Beauty had the same look.

“Dawnie is the only one that has hands, and she is NOT going near the stove to cook! And that is that!” Said Dog standing firmly beside a panicked-looking Dawnie.  The only cooking she had ever done was the imaginary kind on her play cook stove. She buried her face in Dog’s fur and put her arms around his neck.

“Oh, Dawnie, we wouldn’t want you to do anything that would hurt you.” The group said.  “Please don’t cry; we will find another way.

Dawnie brushed her tears away with one of Dog’s big ears, and with her tears dried up, she was smiling again.  “Why don’t we go inside and see what is  available to eat without cooking.” She said.   

Everyone agreed, sounding cheerful so Dawnie’s smile would stay on her face. Seeing her cry broke everyone’s heart.

Facing her friends, she cried, “I am so sorry, I can’t cook for you.  I am hungry too; there are probably lots of potato chips and popcorn inside.  We just have to think inside!”  She said hopefully.

Published by Time Traveler of Life

Biography Creating worlds, characters, and wielding power like a madwoman, making my characters happy, sad, angry, and some of them with no redeeming qualities. I probably shouldn’t admit this, but I sometimes laugh out loud when I am writing a scene, and I have been known to cry when one of my favorites has to die. I am a left-handed Gemini, what do you expect? Reading bedtime stories to my two children until they fell asleep or until they just told me to go away, was fun. Making up wild stories for my grandchild, and creating Halloween costumes from Cowboys to a Dragon, was another favorite thing to do. I missed that so much when they were grown, that I started writing. My yearly newsletters frequently were drafted third-person by my Love Birds, Miranda our motorhome, and by Sir Fit the White Knight, our faithful Honda. Throughout the years, some of my creative talents centered around writing letters of complaint expressing my displeasure with services or products. One crucial, at least to my Son, was a note to our local school bus driver petitioning her to allow him back on the bus. He was kicked off for making an obscene gesture at his buddy. I reminded her that it was not directed at her, and that “obscenity can be in the eye of the beholder,” kids use that gesture as a greeting. He rode the bus until he graduated. I loved driving my English teacher crazy. Leaving a “continued next week” at the end of my five handwritten pages required each week. He was one of many people that suggested I “do something about my writing.” I graduated from the School of Hard Knocks at the top of my class. After 30 years, in the trenches as a Real Estate Professional, I have found that truth is stranger than fiction. My books are filled with characters I met in that profession. Their names were changed to protect the guilty. Others were from people we met traveling around the country in Miranda, our Motorhome. I am married nearly 60 years to the love of my life, Shirl, and partner-produced two exceptionally talented children, and one grandchild who is our pride and joy.

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