Tesla's Completion

By Shiloh Darke and TBD

All her life, Tesla has wished on stars and hoped her true love would find her, but when she left work that night, the last thing she expected was to get swept up and taken from everything she knew, only to be sold at auction as a slave to a man belonging to a race so similar to hers, yet so different. The loincloth was just one thing that gave

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gypsy Shadow Publishing
• Release date: Mar 13, 2020
• ISBN: 9781619505254

Shiloh Darke

What to say about myself? Gee... I'm not sure. I'm a wife, a mother, and even a GRANDMOTHER... But call me MiMi! I LOVE to tell stories! It is just about my favorite thing to do. Ever since I was a little girl, I've LOVED a good romance. But not just ANY romance. No way! I have to have adventure, excitement, danger, thrills and chills as well. What's the point in just a regular old, PREDICTABLE romance? If I can tell halfway through the book what is going to happen, where's the fun in that? As if you can't already tell, I love to read about as much as I love to write! I read romance, mystery, horror, fan fiction (Mostly Harry Potter or True Blood) and anything else that catches my eye. I also write stories for younger readers age 14 and up; YA novels under the pen name of Rowan Shannigan. I'm working on my second novel in the first series I've started under that alias. Check it out at http://feeltheawareness.weebly.com if you are interested. Same CRAZY kind of stories, just a little less intense. If you don't try it, you don't know what you're missing!

Book preview

Contents

Copyright Page

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

About the Author

Tesla’s Completion

Book Two of Celestial Abductions

by

Shiloh Darke

All rights reserved

Copyright © October 17, 2013, Shiloh Darke

Cover Art Copyright © 2012, Charlotte Holley and Shiloh Darke

Gypsy Shadow Publishing, LLC.

Lockhart, TX

www.gypsyshadow.com

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

No part of this book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Gypsy Shadow Publishing, LLC.

ISBN: 978-1-61950-525-4

Published in the United States of America

First eBook Edition: October 21, 2013

Dedication

This story is dedicated to anyone who has ever just wanted to start over. Ever want to wipe the slate clean and try again?

Chapter One

You all right? Don stuck his head in the dressing room, looking his favorite dancer over. Earlier, a drunken patron had tried to drag her from the bar and force her to go with him.

Tesla looked up and smiled warmly at her boss. Yeah, I’m good. Just getting out of these cursed heels. She smirked, massaging her aching feet with peppermint foot oil.

Don nodded. Okay, then, I’m out of here. Make sure you lock up when you leave."

I will. Thanks, Don. I’m actually going to be right behind you. Tesla watched as Don turned and headed out the door. She sighed, thinking, why do I do this to myself? She berated silently. Five evenings a week, she came to work and put on the slinky outfits with the matching high heels, and each evening by the time the night was over, her feet hurt so bad she wasn’t even sure she could make it to her car.

Looking back at the clock that hung on the wall behind her, she groaned at the time. It was after three in the morning. The bar had closed at two. Everyone else except her and Don had left by two-thirty. It was almost a forty-five minute drive out to her place. She had to hurry up if she was going to get there before four.

Turning, she finished packing everything into her bag. Grabbing the heels and stuffing them in the top of it, she then pulled the sneakers out instead and slid her feet into them, moaning at how tender her feet really were. Her body and face might be holding out fairly well against time and gravity, but her poor feet were screaming uncle on all the abuse she was putting them through with hours in heels every day.

As she secured her bag on her shoulder, she looked once around the room, just to be certain she hadn’t forgotten anything. Once she was satisfied, she left the dressing room and walked through the dimly lit bar. Glancing at the stage, she gave a quick shake of her head. Stopping at the entry, she penned a quick note to Don. Her feet were just hurting too bad, and she hadn’t taken any time off in two weeks. Her decision was made. She needed a few days without heels. Tonight was Friday; If she could have Saturday and Sunday, it might give her enough relief to be able to tough it out next week. She wrote in her note to Don she would be back on Monday. He’d be pissed she wasn’t going to be his money maker tomorrow, but he’d get over it.

She needed this. She smiled a true smile for the first time all night. She could afford to do this. All her bills were caught up. Her fridge was full. She had cleared eight hundred tonight after tipping out to the D.J., Bar and Bouncer, as were the rules. She’d given them each a hundred. If she had been a little stingier, she would have brought home a thousand.

But Tesla didn’t really have a greedy bone in her body. She was just thrifty, with over twenty-five grand in the bank. She was working daily during the summer, so she could be off during the year. She had a good reason for that; one she clung to.

She doubted she’d do anything special. Actually, at this moment, all she wanted was a hot soak in the tub. That was all that mattered right now. She may just stay in bed all weekend and actually see what it was like to be lazy. It surely couldn’t hurt anything if she did.

With a sigh of contentment and her car keys clasped to her necklace, she used the deadbolt key for the bar to unlock the door. Once outside, she turned and relocked the door, sliding the key in the mail drop, as Don had requested. Turning to look out at the barely lit parking lot, she looked