Finding Paradise (The Gods of Oakleigh Book 1)

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by Juanita Kees




  Finding Paradise

  the gods of oakleigh (Book 1)

  By

  Juanita Kees

  Table of Contents

  Finding Paradise

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgements

  Dedication

  The Gods of oakleigh

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  THE END

  Note from the author

  About The Author

  Other Books By Juanita Kees

  Writing as Juanita Chavez

  FINDING PARADISE

  Copyright © 2017 Juanita Kees

  All rights reserved

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright above no part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organisations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.

  Published by Juanita Kees

  ASIN: B06XPCLHJB

  Cover Design Copyright © by Amygdala Design

  Acknowledgements

  Special thanks to Jennie Jones and Lily Malone, my Dirty Drafters who saw the potential in this crazy fantasy. Greek gods brought back to life in the 21st century? Oh hell yeah!

  And as always, my super-editor Brooke, thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the hard work you put into the edits.

  Dedication

  For my lovely friend, Efthalia, without whose input my Greek Mythology and language would be totally muddled.

  Pollí agápi, koukla.

  The Gods of oakleigh

  The quiet suburb of Oakleigh may never be the same again. Not as long as the gods are in town ...

  "Juanita Kees delivers a wonderful twist on the Battle of Troy with this story that starts on Mykonos and moves to modern Melbourne, with a little detour to Paradise on the side. Anything with swords and shields and gorgeous Greek gods will get my attention, plus this one had football and a Twitter meltdown by social media-phobic Zeus himself. I loved it." ~ Lily Malone, author, The Vineyard in the Hills.

  “A fresh twist and a sexy modern romance. Enjoyed every page.” ~ Jennie Jones, author, A Place to Stay

  Prologue

  “There are no binding oaths between lions and men,”

  ~ Achilles to Hector at the Battle of Troy

  Circa 1250 B.C.

  How dare they insult him — Ajax the Great — warrior, defender of the Greeks? How could those swine award the Shield of Achilles to Odysseus after all he’d achieved for them? How dare they disgrace him in such a manner?

  Had he not slain twenty-eight Trojans for the Greeks, held off the attacking army single-handedly so Odysseus could remove Achilles’ body from the battlefield and lay him to rest beside Patroclus? Had he not taken on Hector — again — and saved the Greek warships from burning? He swallowed a gulp of ambrosia from his goblet, feeling the bite of fermentation in his throat.

  Were it not for his size and strength, all would be lost. All Odysseus had left was the power of charm and the mouth of the devil. He’d believed his deed honourable and deserving, had sold his case to the court and won the Shield of Achilles — with his words, not with his fighting skills. Ajax spat the distaste from his mouth.

  Agamemnon and Menelaus, the sons of Atreus, deserved to die for awarding the armour to the man he had once considered a great warrior. No more. Odysseus had betrayed more than loyalty. He’d betrayed their kinship. Vengeance would be his.

  “Such murderous thoughts, Ajax the Great, but you are correct. The armour should be yours.” Her voice, sweet and coaxing, her words almost believable — had Ajax not known her for the deceitful vixen she was.

  “So say you. Yet, are you not Odysseus’ greatest admirer? You ... Athena — Goddess of Wisdom — admire his abilities to be well-spoken, his loyalty to his kin and the gods, his bravery and wisdom.” Bitterness gave his tone a biting edge.

  Athena smiled, cold and calculating. “Ah, but this is different. For once, I believe Odysseus is truly not deserving of his prize. There is a way to redeem your honour.” She leaned towards him, her perfume enveloping his senses, her delectable breasts teasing his chest and muddling his thoughts.

  He knew Athena was a temptress, a goddess not to be trusted, yet Ajax felt himself falling under her spell as her lips teased his.

  “Down in the field they wait for you — Odysseus, Agamemnon and Menelaus — among the cows and sheep they stole from the Trojans. They’re drunk on their success and ambrosia, vulnerable in their weakened state.” Her clever hands traced the muscles in his arms, working their way across the solid wall of his chest. “You could easily take their lives tonight, for you are Ajax the Great, all-powerful, almighty warrior.”

  Ajax’s mind clouded, the edges of his sanity fading as she coaxed open his lips and breathed the words into his mouth.

  “Yes, I am a great warrior,” he replied, floating on a cloud of desire and intoxication.

  He reached for her, but she danced away. “Then kill them tonight.”

  ***

  The sun burned against his eyelids and raucous laughter surrounded him. Ajax shifted as the grass beneath him chafed his back. He’d killed his adversaries. Slaughtered them, hacked and slashed as they’d bleated for him to spare their lives. The anger surged within him again and he pushed himself up. Where were they — the bodies?

  The coppery smell of blood filled his nostrils, as did the stench of something else. Yes, he’d ripped out their hearts and stomachs, covered himself in their blood, wore it now like a symbol of honour of the great warrior he was.

  He shook the fog from his mind and opened his eyes. Around him the laughter grew. The Greek army surrounded him, pointing at him and the scene at his feet. They cried out, teasing him, taunting him with cruel words.

  “Why are you laughing?” He stood and looked at where they pointed.

  Before him, he beheld the mass slaughter of cattle and sheep. His sword — the gift he’d received from Hector so long ago — laid buried deep between the ribs of a ram, in direct line with its heart.

  Athena. She had done this to him, driven him to commit this crime against the people he served. Shame warred with relief. At least he had not murdered his fellow Greeks, instead he had diminished his honour further by slaughtering the spoils of war. He’d be forced to explain his actions to Atreus, to Zeus whom he feared even more. How could he explain the jealous reasons he’d wanted to kill Odysseus and the Achaean leaders? In the harsh light of day and sobriety, all he
saw was the senseless destruction he’d wrought. Zeus would banish him. He’d lose his honour among warriors, be deemed unstable and a traitor to his people.

  “What possessed you to wreak such havoc upon the field?” Odysseus grabbed his shoulders and spun him around. “Explain yourself. Are you such a selfish bastard that you take out your anger on defenceless animals? Why did you not seek out a more worthy adversary? I would gladly take a sword to you myself instead of this ... massacre.

  Ajax covered his face with his blood-spattered hands. The foul smell of decomposing stomach contents reached in and curdled his gut. He retched, shook his head as the taunts around him grew louder. Humiliation, so deep it ripped at his heart, flooded his mind and body. He’d rather die than face degradation.

  “Go,” shouted Odysseus, raw anger on his face and disgust in his voice. He spat at Ajax’s feet. “No doubt Zeus will decide your punishment.” Odysseus turned his back and shouted orders for the carcasses to be placed upon a pyre.

  Ajax walked towards the body of the ram and retrieved the sword from its heart. In his dream, the ram was Odysseus. The horror of what he’d done — what he could have done — weighed so heavily on his shoulders, they sagged under the pressure and curved his back. A broken warrior, he dragged his feet across the field away from the mayhem, jeers at his back and the sting of stones bouncing off his scalp. He smelled the acrid smoke of his killing spree on the pyre.

  Up the hill, he buried the hilt of his sword in the ground and watched the sun glint off the sharp blade. He sat on a pile of rocks and contemplated the punishment his actions would bring. Facing the wrath of Atreus would be humiliating enough, but admitting his guilt to Zeus … not even Ajax the Great was brave enough for that. He had little choice. There was only one solution.

  Standing, he towered above the point of his sword. “Forgive me, Zeus. I have disgraced you. My greed and jealousy devoured my humility. I do not deserve your pardon. Instead, I sacrifice myself in the name of honour and leave this earth.”

  Athena’s laughter echoed around him, her voice tormenting him. “Coward.”

  The word reached into his soul, shattered his heart. “You betrayed me, humiliated and drugged me. May the wrath of Zeus rest upon your shoulders, Athena, for so help me, I will never trust a woman again.”

  Ajax the Great closed his eyes, took a steadying breath and fell on his sword. He felt the burn as the blade pierced his side, heard the rip as it sliced his flesh, bore the moment of pain as it reached his heart and then mercifully, his world went black.

  ***

  Odysseus rattled the gates of hell. “Come out and explain yourself, Ajax. Did owning the Shield of Achilles really mean more to you than your life, the lives of others? Surely the warrior in you can see that it is not the shield that makes the man, but rather the man himself?”

  Silence met his plea. Nothing but heat and cries of torment passed through the blackened gates. Where in hell was Ajax? Zeus refused to talk about the misadventure. In fact, the great god of gods refused to speak his name at all, so fierce was his anger at Ajax’s suicide. It would take Zeus a while to reign in the fury, which he lashed out on the seas, creating magnificent storms and waves so high they dwarfed the ships upon them.

  Odysseus called Ajax’s name over and over until Hades himself stepped from the flames. “Do be quiet, Odysseus. Your constant bawling sets my horns afire. Ajax isn’t here. His soul is trapped in the darkness between hell and Earth. The last I heard, he was wandering aimlessly in Erebus. For some ungodly reason, Zeus spared him the sentence of being sent straight to hell. Damn shame, really. I could use him down here. All these thieves, murderers, Romans — it’s like trying to control a room full of adolescents, I tell you.”

  “Don’t bother me with your strife, Hades. How can I reach Ajax?”

  Hades stroked his pointy beard, his hands gnarled, nails blackened with ash. He shrugged. “You can’t. Not without Zeus’ permission. Zeus has sentenced him to two thousand years in Erebus to consider his sins. No-one is to make contact with him in that time, not even I. Word is, he is on the island of Leuke at the mouth of the Danube, guarding the sanctuary containing the remains of Achilles and Patroclus from the scourge of the seas. Damn pirates. No doubt someday they’ll end up down here too. I hope he doesn’t learn his lesson. I won’t give up until I have his soul.”

  Odysseus sighed. There was nothing he could do but wait.

  Chapter One

  Modern Day Melbourne

  Ajax wandered the banks of the Yarra. When everyone on Olympus thought Zeus had sent him to the island of Leuke, he’d arrived in Van Diemen’s Land, and then travelled to a place so hot he’d have preferred hell.

  For over two thousand years he’d watched Australia grow from a barren wasteland to a bustling metropolis. He’d wandered from coast to coast, seeking peace for his soul. He’d crossed deserts Hades would think suitable for new settlements, witnessed the arrival of the first boats to the shores — the men and women with their chocolate-coloured skin and tribal ways. Then later, the arrival of the others and the discordance it had brought upon the land. Two world wars, the depression of the 1930s, terror attacks, and now, finally, a form of unsettled peace as if the world still sat on the edge of its seat waiting for something to happen … just like him.

  “Ah, Ajax,” said Zeus, touching his shoulder. “I’ve been looking all over for you. I have a job for you to do.”

  Ajax sighed. Another test, another failure. He touched the scar on his side. Every time Zeus set him a task, the damn thing itched like buggery, reminding him of his cowardice, selfishness and greed.

  “Of course,” he agreed, turning to the great god.

  Sometimes he wished Zeus would just give up and let him die, send him to hell for Hades to play with. That’s what a coward deserved, after all. But no, instead Zeus played his own game of cat and mouse.

  “I’m sending you to Paradise Beach, Mykonos, on protection detail. Arianrhod, the future Queen of the Faeries, is holidaying there and I fear Hades is looking for trouble with her. He’s been chasing control of her queendom for years. I need you to keep her out of his way until I figure out a way of getting her onto the throne. He’s a charming devil and before you know it, he’ll have control of Paradise.”

  Ajax shook his head. “A woman? You want me to protect a woman? Zeus, you know how I feel about those creatures. They’re traitorous, conniving hellions. No, I’m sorry. I’d rather you just finish me now.” Pain sliced his heart as sure as the blade of his sword had. Athena’s betrayal had struck deep. He’d kept his promise for centuries — millennium even — never to trust a woman again. He sure as hell had no desire to play bodyguard to one.

  “I’m afraid you have no choice, my boy.”

  “There’s always a choice, Zeus.”

  “Oh come now, Ajax. Are you saying you’ll abandon your friends in their time of need too? I know you think you’re a coward for what you did all those years ago, but are you one to desert your friends seeking their own way out of Purgatory?”

  Ajax frowned. Odysseus and Helen? God knows, he knew all about their struggles too. Suspicion crawled up his spine. What the hell was Zeus playing at?

  “You’re using my friends as a bargaining tool to get me to protect a Faerie Queen and sending me to one of the most beautiful beaches in the world to do it.” He shook his head. “There has to be a catch.”

  Zeus shrugged. “Well, I figured you’re all due for a little visit to the homeland so why not kill two harpies with one stone, so to speak. Not that I’d ever harm my harpies, of course.”

  “Of course,” Jax agreed dryly.

  Not even the harpies escaped Zeus’ tests unscathed. Olympus was littered with their feathers, singed from being put through their paces at training. No point arguing with the great god, he’d only lose the battle … again.

  Jax sighed. “What is it you want from me?”

  Zeus patted his shoulder. “I knew you’d see it my way. Youn
g Arianrhod is unaware that she is the Queen of Paradise. You see, her grandmother died without handing over the reign or telling her granddaughter of the queendom she’d inherit. Hades has been wreaking havoc up there in the absence of a leader, turning the faeries to the dark side, destroying vegetation and food sources to force them to follow him. I need you to stop him claiming Paradise.”

  Ajax snorted, anger simmering in his belly. “You want me to stop Hades on a path of destruction and convince some empty-headed young thing she’s a Faerie Queen? Clearly you have not had any dealings with Generation Y. You cannot tell them anything.” He turned his attention to the choppy waters of the Yarra. Best he reined in his temper or the rowing team from Melbourne Boys Grammar School would end up head first in the freezing water. He closed his eyes and focused on easing his fury and gentling the waves. Only when they’d settled did he speak. “I couldn’t win an argument over the Shield of Achilles yet you want me to win a war against the devil. Have you changed the strength of your ambrosia?”

  Zeus chuckled. “Souping up the ambrosia … there’s an idea. What is more important to you, Ajax? A piece of armour or good deed that might save the world? But yes, putting Hades in his place is precisely what I want, and I believe you’re the man for the job.”

  How many times had Zeus said those same words to him? You can do it, Ajax. I believe in you. If anyone can do it, you can. And he’d failed every task assigned to him for over two thousand years because he was a coward and his own self-hate had eaten away his heart, leaving him empty and alone.

  “If I fail this task, will you leave me be and let my soul rest?”

  Zeus cocked an eyebrow and laughed so loud the cox in the boat startled, overbalanced and fell in the water. “If you fail this test, dear boy, you and I both may as well knock on the gates of hell and beg to be let in.” He turned to walk away, throwing his parting words over his shoulder. “Helen has your passport and tickets. You leave in the morning via this cursed new-world transport they call an airplane. Nice work on not toppling that boat, by the way. Two thousand years ago you would have dumped them in the water for the mere pleasure of it. You’ve come further than you think, Ajax the Great.”

 

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