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Triangle

The Complete Series

by Susann Julieva & Romelle Engel

“The Triangle Series - Book 1: Triangle” and “The Triangle Series - Book 2: Redefinitions” Copyright

2002-2010 Susann Julieva.

“The Triangle Series - Book 3: Recast” and “The Triangle Series - Book 4: Retribution” Copyright

2004-2010 Susann Julieva and Romelle Engel.

Smashwords Edition

License Notes

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 Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for

respecting the hard work of these authors.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the authors’

imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business

establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

A Note from the Authors

A heartfelt thank you to everyone who sent us feedback over the years, cheering us on and caring so

much about our characters. This is for you.

Much love,

Susann & Romelle

Susann

writes the point of views of

James Foley, Casey Mills, and Danny Rizzo

Romelle

writes the point of view of

Nick Keller

For more information and other publications by Susann Julieva, please visit

www.susannjulieva.com

Table of Contents

Book 1: Triangle

Book 2: Redefinitions

Book 3: Recast

Book 4: Retribution

Book 1

Triangle

by Susann Julieva

Chapter 1

Azure

JAMES: Azure. Vast and cloudless. High above, out of reach. And still, when you’re lying on your

back and you stare at the sky for long enough, you can’t help feeling its weight pressing down on you.

But maybe that’s just me. I’m not really the beach kind of person. I’m sure one of those annoying sea

gulls cruising above will shit on me sooner or later.

What am I doing here anyway? I have a paper due on Monday that’s waiting to be finished. Not to

forget the six other pressing things that I’ll somehow have to tackle before the weekend is over. Yet here

I am, doing nothing more demanding than lying on the sand and breathing.

Shocking as it may be, I do like to study. I love the fact that no-one can ever know everything.

Woodhaven’s campus with its exquisite libraries and neoclassical buildings is a sub-universe dedicated

to knowledge and truth. Or at least it’s supposed to be, despite all the arrogance and ignorance that you

find wherever smart people gather. But still, university is my refuge. Home is where the lies are, hidden

beneath a shadow veil. Home is where the ghost of Simon lives on, haunting every step that I take.

Clearly, I need an afternoon off like a hole in the head. But Casey insisted, and I can never say no to

him. Casey Mills is one of the two people on Earth whose company I actually enjoy, and ergo my best

friend. Or more precisely, he’d be my best friend if I had more than one friend to choose from. Which is

fine. I never gave a damn about popularity, and vice versa popularity never gave a damn about me.

But sure enough, this friendship can’t be all laid back and easy, because my life just doesn’t work

that way. The whole point of being friends is to be just friends. So naturally, it’s just my luck to have a

secret crush on him.

I think I’ve been doing fairly well in hiding it from him so far, and I have no intention of changing

that strategy anytime soon. Take it from the reigning king of introverts, it’s wrong that some things are

better left unsaid. In fact, most are.

The afternoon is drowsy, listless, and I swear I can feel my brain cells slowly getting fried in the

heat. The sun is mercilessly bright, and Rizzo stole my sunglasses when I wasn’t paying attention.

Sneaky son of a bitch. Casey invited him to come along, and I knew that was a mistake. I’m not sure

exactly how today’s setup came about. How do you invite someone on a trip that you can only make if

they give you a ride in their stupid shiny Porsche?

As may be derived from my using the word stupid in connection with a freaking dream of a car like

that, Danny Rizzo is definitely not one of the two people on Earth whose company I enjoy. I won’t deny

that I can’t stand most people, because most people are idiots. But him I just loathe. Rizzo is the kind of

guy who gets away with anything. He’s the only person I’ve ever met who always gets what he wants,

no matter how unlikely and absurd it may be. He treats people like toys, replaceable like bubble gum.

You chew on it for a while, and when it’s lost its taste, you spit it out. That’s Rizzo. And can you believe

it, they all love him for it. And for one reason only: Because he is drop dead gorgeous.

“You wanna get some ice cream?” Casey’s slender form casts a deep shadow on me when he sits up

beside me and draws his legs up.

“You buying?” Rizzo lazily lifts his head. He is lying sprawled in the sand crosswise in front of us

like a huge bug that’s been squashed under a boot. Damn the bastard, he’s getting a tan already.

Casey smiles, and for a brief moment his blue eyes wander over the perfectly muscled body at our

feet. Then he notices that I’m watching him, and quickly averts his gaze. He laughs softly. “Uh… okay.”

His baggy shorts slide down a bit as he gets up, revealing a crack of the soft, white skin of his butt,

but he pulls them back up immediately. Rizzo and I exchange a glance as he walks away, his steps slow

and heavy on the sand. Damn. Suntan boy chuckles and rolls back onto his back, shielding his eyes

from the bright sunlight with his arm for a moment before dropping it with a deep sigh. How about

using my sunglasses?

“You’re turning lobster-red.”

Gee, thanks for stating the obvious. I’m fully aware of the fact that I don’t tan. I just burn. And yes,

I’m sure Casey would prefer a perfect tan to perfect lobster-red anytime. Especially with a flawless

Adonis body like that. “Eat me, Rizzo.”

He just laughs, sizing me up with his admittedly beautiful dark eyes. “Geez, Foley, relax. There’ll be

enough time to be that stiff when you’re dead.” He grabs something and lifts his hand, waving a small

tube. “Want some sunblock?”

“Who’d you steal that from?”

Rizzo cracks one of his infamous sly smiles and shrugs nonchalantly. Before I can say anything he

gets up and flops down next to me. Far too close for my liking. His leg brushes against mine, and the

bastard watches my face for the tiniest trace of reaction. Which I won’t give him, of course. I stare back

at him coolly, and know instantly that that was a mistake. Our eyes lock, and sure enough, neither of us

will grant the other the satisfaction of looking away first.

“You know,” Rizzo begins with that pleasant voice of his, and it feels like a silk scarf drawn across

my body. I briefly wonder if the heat has fried my brains already, and left me with nothing but the

raging hormones of my tender age. I’m supposed to be immune to this guy.

He opens the tube, and squeezes some sunblock onto his palm. I don’t even care what he’s saying.

All I really hear is that voice. “People with light skin have a higher risk of getting skin cancer.”

“Wow. A decade ago that piece of information would’ve been shocking news to me.” I actually

manage to sound as disinterested and bored as I’d like to be. I force myself to look away and not stare at