Playing with Passion Theta Series Book 1

by Gayle Parness

  Three hours later, Dylan and Celeste walked hesitantly into the common area. Everyone was there, talking excitedly, standing grouped around Gene's H-tab. Dylan coughed, and the group noticed the two for the first time.

  Dylan pushed Celeste slightly behind him, also expecting the worst. "Look..." he began.

  Suddenly the remaining troupe and their new associates were kissing Celeste on the cheek and shaking Dylan's hand.

  "Why aren't you angry with me? I killed two of your friends," Celeste asked in disbelief.

  Sam took her hand, nodding. "They were close friends. Staci and I knew them for almost twenty years. But because of you and Dylan, their deaths have meaning. They’re already being spoken of as martyrs—symbols for our cause."

  Gene grabbed her shoulder, tugging her closer to the front of the group. "Look, sugar." There she was spinning slowly above the screen, looking fierce and furious, mouthing, “We're coming for you,” and flipping off The Director.

  "It's gone viral. Everyone with an underground blog is writing about it, and it's already been reported on the local TV stations. Of course, The Director’s people make it seem as if you're a drug-crazed ingrate, but at least it's out there. People are going to pay attention. Look at this."

  Celeste read blog after blog, each one calling her the face of the revolution. "There was a revolution?" she asked.

  "There is now." Alan grinned like a monkey.

  "Have any of you chosen real names for yourselves?" Celeste asked the others. She wrapped her arms around her soon-to-be-husband, scanning the rest of the troupe. "Screw their stupid labels."

  Sam and Staci laughed and kissed. Sam responded. "We’re going to stick with Sam and Staci. It’s what we’re comfortable with. Anyway, we call each other Angelface and Honeybear, when we’re alone."

  "Whatever you want," Dylan chuckled.

  Liz pushed Gene out of the way and stuck out her hand. "I'm glad you're with us. You kicked ass. Good work."

  Celeste knew this was a huge concession on Liz’s part, so she grasped her hand and shook it. "Thanks."

  "Well said." Gene stroked Liz's bare arm, his flirty grin spiking at a thousand watts.

  "Get the fuck away from me, asshole." Liz gave him a shove then stormed over to the other side of the room.

  "Your love of women with issues could get you into deep shit. She can use that knife and has many times, apparently," Dylan offered up.

  "I know it, but look at her! She's a fucking rock star."

  "Why don't you offer to bring her over? She can't say no to that," Ingrid suggested.

  "Hmmm. I enjoy the way your mind works.” Gene narrowed his eyes and scrunched up his mouth, "You're not off the hook, by the way. From now on, you'd better let me in on your schemes."

  Dylan had snuck away to talk to Sam and Staci, so Celeste was the one dealing with the angry General Gene. "You would've said no."

  "Damn right."

  She glared right back at him. "And then what? Could you have lived with yourself, watching that disgusting spectacle, and doing nothing? I couldn't, so I did what I had to do.”

  "You have a truckload of courage, Celeste, but not always a lot of common sense."

  Her eyes widened in disbelief. "Yeah? Well, I would have done the same for you and I expect you to do it for me, if it's ever necessary. That's the deal, so live with it. Or don't. Whatever." She turned, wiping away a stray tear with her sleeve.

  Gene turned Celeste back around with a gentle hand on her arm, speaking out loud so the others would hear. "Maybe I should have thought of it myself, but if you'd come to me and explained it the way you did just now, I might have agreed. Plus, we could have helped you. Please trust me, darlin'. Nothing is going to work in this arrangement if we don't trust each other. Deal?" He stuck out his hand and smiled.

  She clasped it with an exasperated shake of her head. "I'll try."

  Dylan patted Gene on the back, pulling Celeste against his hip, draping his arm over her shoulder. It was a possessive move that would never grow old. "We made him leader and we have to respect his position. He’s earned our trust."

  Celeste pressed her body closer to Dylan and sighed. "You're right. We'll come to you first."

  The three of them scanned the room. Sam and Staci were cuddled together on the couch they'd bought that morning, Alan and Tom were still watching the latest news alerts, and Johnny and Liz were talking quietly in the corner. Johnny had made Liz laugh about something, and Celeste could see what Gene meant. Her entire face lit up when she let go of the anger. She was lovely.

  Grateful for the overwhelming comfort and safety of Mack’s presence, Celeste hoped Diane and Dave were at peace somewhere.

  "I’m going to stay Gene Hudson.”

  “Why?” Ingrid asked.

  "Everyone will know that an ingénue of a theta troupe is heading a revolution. Maybe people will take heart, begin their own rebellion. This is going to be a group effort. I hope we're all up for the challenge."

  The others had heard Gene’s words and turned in his direction, smiling and looking more excited than Celeste had ever seen them, even though their most difficult and dangerous work lay ahead.

  “I wonder how The Director’s feeling tonight?” Gene asked.

  “Pissed off that an ingénue whore got the best of him, I’d guess,” Ingrid grinned and hugged her favorite Welsh god.

  EPILOGUE

  The video of Ingrid’s rash act spun in the air above his desk, looping over and over. We’re coming for you, she mouthed. And again. And again.

  The Director picked up the tablet and threw it into the fireplace, conjuring a flame to melt the device in seconds. His most serious mistake was allowing that whore to live after Atlanta. He should have dealt with her the way he did Mack Stone.

  How Ironic that Joseph’s predictions regarding thetas were coming to pass. Well, first things first, then he’d deal with the theta problem. It shouldn’t take more than a day or so.

  “Annie.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Did Rem or Zarek survive?”

  “Zarek died, but Rem survived, sir. His healing will take approximately three days, but he should recover completely.”

  “I want him left with scarring as a reminder that he failed me.”

  “Excuse me, sir?”

  “I will not repeat myself.”

  “I understand, sir. Um, to what extent…?”

  “His face, but there should be no damage to his eyesight or other senses.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “My people must learn. My slaves must learn as well. Are the stadium guards in the holding area?”

  She swallowed heavily. “Yes, sir.”

  “And Joseph?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He stood, walking slowly to the elevator. Although he was capable of flight, he rarely used the gift. It left him vulnerable to attack from his siblings, the only creatures in the two galaxies and the three realms capable of eliminating him.

  A few minutes later he stood in front of the cage housing the cowering demons who’d been tasked with securing the stadium. One hundred and nine audience members had died, crushed in the stampede, shot by guards, or killed in fights. The Director had always insisted his audiences at these functions feel secure. Who would come to future events if they believed they could be killed or injured while in attendance? One or two of these imbeciles had allowed the two thetas access to the area. He would discover who was responsible with very little trouble.

  Joseph Herron was another problem. He’d given the wolf the girl for the night, and he’d allowed her to escape. He wouldn’t kill the alpha, that would create chaos among his kind, but he would think of an appropriate way to punish him that would keep him out of trouble for several months. And if he lost his position, oh well, there was always another alpha ready to take over.

  The Director, an archdemon more ancient than the small planet he stood upon, scanned his prisoners, his red eyes and flaming blue cl
aws the only light in the dark room. “Who would care to go first?”

  ****************************************************************

  Acknowledgments:

  I often think of finishing a book as giving birth, and although I love the finished product, this one was definitely a difficult labor and delivery. I began by writing Playing with Passion in first person and self-publishing it under a pen name. After advice from several good friends and a great critique from my younger daughter, I decided to pull the book and start over. I changed the story from first person to third and re-worked the plot, although the basic story of Ingrid’s drive toward freedom and Mack’s determination to protect her and the troupe never changed. I added the POV of The Director, then balanced the darker chapters with more humor and more dialogue between my trio.

  None of this could have been accomplished without the help of some amazing people. First and foremost, I send my love and thanks to my daughters, my brother and my friends who support me and love me even when my schedule is so crazy we don’t have a chance to sit down for a talk. I’ll always love you guys.

  I’d like to thank Deborah Williams, my new editor, who worked very hard to find my mistakes, encouraging my strengths, and offering wonderful suggestions to help me make the book stronger. And of course huge buckets of gratitude are sent to my dearest friend-sister-editor-amazing guru, Emily Schiller, who exhibits incredible amounts of patience every time she volunteers to help me out.

  To my writing buddies from the Silicon Valley Chapter of Romance Writers of America, Kristina Wright, Susan Sbardellati, Rachel Scheuring and the Wednesday Le Bou Crew, under the guidance of our fearless leader, Hannah Jayne: I thank you all for every word of encouragement over the last few months. There were times when I was desperate for a pat on the back, and you were always there to boost my sagging confidence.

  Special thanks also go out to my incredibly generous and keen-eyed beta readers: Michele Fowler, Angela Jackson, Wanda Jewell, Kim Knollenberg, and Regina Roy. You get to read my books first, and your comments are gratefully appreciated.

  And to all the lovely people who read my stories: Thank you. Your comments are always welcome. Please leave an honest review if you feel so inclined. It would be most appreciated.

  And for those of you who wonder what’s to become of my young adult series—there will be a new Triad Series book late this summer and a new Rogues Shifter book in early winter. I will never turn my back on Jackie, Garrett or Charlie. :0)

  About the Author

  I'm fortunate to currently be a resident of a lovely town in Northern California, a magical place within the context of the mortal plain, where flowers bloom all winter long and people actually smile and say hello when they pass you on the sidewalk.

  I've spent most of my professional life working with community theatre groups in NYC as a costume designer, production manager, stage manager, etc... Over time I've adopted the philosophy that life is one enormous theatrical extravaganza and I'm merely doing my best to keep it interesting for myself, my family, my friends and hopefully my readers.

  I've read fantasy my entire life and still read into the wee hours. Steven King said something about not having the tools to write if you don't spend a good amount of time reading. I'm continue to strive toward perfection on that front, although I’ve expanded my list of genres to include romance, science fiction and literary fiction. I hope you stop by my website, facebook or twitter page to say hi or leave a comment. Happy reading.

  Contact

  Visit Gayle at:

  Website: http://www.gayleparness.com

  Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/gayleparness

  Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/gayleparness-author

  Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5165431.Gayle_Parness

  What’s next?

  Coming June 17, 2015: Yielding to Pleasure - Book Two in the Theta Series

  Can be preordered now. Release date June 17, 2015

  Go here for links to preorder or purchase: http://www.gayleparness.com

  Synopsis = Yielding to Pleasure:

  Matteo, a street theta from Brooklyn, has done his best to keep his neighborhood safe from the violence that’s plaguing New York City. It’s rumored that a grass roots rebellion has sprung up, but he’s heard it’s being run by troupers—a group of thetas he has good reason to mistrust. Ten years ago Matteo’s father was murdered and his sister Bella was taken to a theta training institute, so every spare ounce of energy Matteo possesses is focused on the promise he made his family: To find his sister and avenge his father.

  Anne has escaped from her Connecticut theta troupe and is hiding out in Manhattan, but she’s barely surviving. When she’s attacked, she thinks her life is over, but waking up in the apartment of a sexy Latino street theta determined to nurse her back to health, is not exactly her vision of the afterlife—although it could be way worse. Even though Anne is enjoying the attention, she knows she has to keep her identity a secret, or else both their lives will be in danger.

  Gene is now the leader of the rebellion against The Director’s tyranny, recruiting new thetas wherever he can find them. When Matteo and Anne need his help, he does his best to convince them to become part of his team. But when a former enemy tries to form an alliance, and a trusted friend goes behind his back, his long-term plans begin to collapse.

  Read an excerpt here.

  Also by Gayle Parness: Two Young Adult Fantasy Series

  The Rogues Shifter Series

  Rebirth – Free at all vendors!

  Stalked

  Twisted

  Blown Away

  Caught Between

  Torn Apart

  Cut Off

  The Triad Series:

  Breaking Out

  Copyright Playing with Passion 2015 by Gayle Parness

  Yielding to Pleasure excerpt copyright 2015 by Gayle Parness

  Thank you for purchasing an authorized edition of this ebook.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales are coincidental.

  Yielding to Pleasure

  Prologue

  Matteo's papa fell to his knees on the kitchen floor, clutching his chest, the dark spot beneath his hands growing larger. Two of the demons who'd splintered the apartment door were sprawled next to him, deathly still, bloody from knife wounds no longer bleeding. The third had stabbed his father with a curved blade, snatching up his little sister Bella and tucked her under his arm. She was screaming and wiggling, trying to get away, but he ignored her struggles.

  "Matty!" she screamed, her face scrunched up in terror. "Mama!"

  Matty and his mother watched the scene play out on the small screen his father had installed when he'd built the safe room a year ago. His mom was weeping, holding her ten-year-old son in an iron grip as he tried to wrench himself away and open the door of their shelter. Bella and Papa needed help. He had to do something. He'd promised.

  "Let go, Mama."

  "Shhh." She placed a tear-wet hand over his mouth and held on.

  How had this happened?

  Only twenty minutes ago he and his mom had been baking Bella's favorite cookies as a special surprise for her doing so well with her reading. Bella loved stories, so two days ago they'd walked the twelve blocks to the library to get as many books as they could carry. The libraries had all been shut down and boarded up, but the neighborhood kids snuck in through broken windows to take books and then return them, all on the honor system. Mama and papa said it was important for everyone to have a chance to learn to read.

  He and Bella had never attended school. The few schools open in Brooklyn were private, and cost too much money. The humans who'd survived the steal by turning traitor and working for the demons, made enough money to send their kids to those private havens. Those children
probably had houses that were warm in the winter, and lots of food to eat.

  But they were traitors. Matty would never be a traitor, even if the demons tried to force him.

  Sometimes, when Bella was hungry, he'd hold her tight and whisper in her ear. "When I'm big like papa, I'll build you a house with a fireplace in every room and we'll eat lots and lots of chocolate and hamburgers and pizza, too. But you haveta cook it." Then they'd get out a pad and pencil and draw the house they wanted to build.

  Last fall, his dad had pulled him aside to have a serious talk. They'd sat together on the lumpy blue couch that he and Bella loved to jump on. His father always smelled like the harsh soap he used to clean his hands, the grease from the bikes and the shuttles he repaired in his garage difficult to get out from under his nails. Mama used to tease him about it, but she never minded either. To Matty, he smelled safe and strong. Maybe he smelled that way to Mama, too.

  Papa placed a hand on his shoulder. "Matty, you're ten years old. I need to talk to you like you're a grown-up. Can you listen like one?" He'd nodded, eager to hear what his father had to tell him. Maybe Mama was going to have another baby. A brother would be cool.

  He'd never expected what his father said next. "You and Bella have powers that the demons want to use, especially the archdemon they call The Director."

  "'Cause we're thetas, like Mrs. Flynn's son. right?" Mrs. Flynn's son had been kidnapped by two demons when he was only two and a half years old. They'd broken her arm and her nose when she'd tried to stop them. Mrs. Flynn didn't have any other children, and a vampire had killed her husband the year before.