Free Playing with Passion Theta Series Book 1 by Gayle Parness Page B

projected the images with their minds as
they connected to each other with their bodies, many of the dance
movements unique to thetas. Running through the forest in terror
together, Gene and Ingrid spun and leapt in a frenzied duet. Her
struggle to escape her imprisonment was a series of contractions of
her abs and powerful thrusts with arms and legs. The deaths were
enhanced by the tearful exchange of tender strokes and smooth
lifts.
    Although an audience could watch them
dancing, most would close their eyes and open their minds to the
fantasy the troupe created. There was no dialogue on stage; the
normal sounds made while dancing were not heard above the swell of
Alan's exquisite music. Each performance took between twenty to
thirty minutes, but the audience would imagine they'd been in the
fantasy world for days. Some would have to be carried out, but
everyone left feeling satisfied.
    When the scene ended, Ingrid was
shocked when the troupe formed a circle, their arms around each
other’s waists and shoulders. Even Alan and Mack had joined the
group, smiling and whacking each other on the back or hugging the
girls.
    She ducked out and moved away, not
sure what all the fuss was about. This had been a simple scenario.
None of them was even close to being depleted. Nothing spectacular
had occurred...just the usual...
    Gene swept her up and carted her back
to the circle before she could squeak out a protest. Hugs and
friendly kisses were distributed, Sam saying, "Great job. Your
sprite was quite extraordinary and your energy gels very nicely
with ours. We've been nervous about the change." He smiled warmly
at Staci, who stepped into his outstretched arms and hugged him
around the waist.
    Staci smiled up at her partner. "He's
being kind. I was much more concerned than he was.” She looked at
Ingrid. “I tend to worry about the health of the troupe, and you...
well... you lost three of your troupe members in
Atlanta."
    Diane gave her a patronizing pat on
the head. "We thought you might be some kind of psycho
nut."
    Ingrid laughed. She couldn't blame
them. "That's okay. I'm glad it worked out."
    Mack seemed more than satisfied. “That
was great. I didn’t want to give you something tough the first time
you worked together. Take an hour break then we’ll take on an
advanced script. There’s food downstairs.”
    Ten minutes later, Ingrid sat curled
up in an armchair, eating a roast beef sandwich and sipping on a
soda. Gene had pushed his chair so close their shoulders were
pressed together, the fresh scent of his minty soap twisting up the
corners of her mouth. This sort of physical contact after a
rehearsal was normal between actors, especially if they were
running a second script after lunch.
    However, the huggy-kissy stuff going
on in the room made her slightly uncomfortable, not that she was a
prude, but she’d never had that kind of close relationship with
anyone. Guess she’d have to get used to it.
    Diane was sitting in Dave’s lap,
feeding him from her plate, all differences forgiven if not
forgotten. Between bites they’d kiss—long, passionate kisses. Staci
was next to Sam on the couch, her hand resting high on his thigh.
She whispered something in his ear and he lifted her hand to kiss
her palm. When Staci crawled into his lap, Ingrid had to turn away,
feeling as if she was witnessing something excessively
private.
    Ingrid was surprised by
their outward shows of affection, something she'd never seen in her
other troupes. And their closeness didn’t diminish Staci and Sam’s
ability to focus and project. The Hudson River Troupe's mental
signature was translucid and sharp, their magic able to be shaped
to the actor's purposes with minimal effort, leaving them free to
add detail to their characters. She was happy to classify her
new family as
being exceptional.
    Sam stuck out. His power to morph and
split his projection into multiples was seamless. Ingrid had
already decided to use him as her main collaborator