I’ve often thought that without dreams, without hopes and aspirations, human beings wouldn’t be much more than empty shells, living day to day, with nothing keeping them alive except, maybe, the biological instinct to survive. Thinking on this more, it seemed likely to me that these dreamless beings would indulge in all kinds of risky immoral hijinks in their efforts to feel alive, to add some kind of texture and meaning to their lives, and the more I explored this idea, the more it started sounding like a story I wanted to write.
I already had my hero waiting in the wings – a beautiful amnesiac who calls himself Alejandro – from something I’d written many years earlier, and now I just needed a villain. Since I also like the idea of new, non-traditional monsters – not to say I don’t love vampires, mummies, and werewolves – I came up with Mr. Jones, a demonic salesman who trades wishes and whims for a person’s innermost dreams.
Mr. Jones came into existence all at once, when I saw a man – impeccably dressed with slicked-back black hair, dark glasses, a black briefcase – walking down the street near my house. I knew then and there that this was my bad guy. I threw in a psychic, a priest, an angel, and a chief of police with a drinking problem, then began exploring what happens when the townspeople start selling off their dreams …
And that’s how Dream Reaper came to be.
P.S. ~ Dream Reaper is coming soon to Audible.com!
~ Alistair Cross
Thorne & Cross 