Jason Starr - The Pack
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- Year:2011
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The Pack: summary, description and annotation
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Jason Starr is hypnotically good. -Lee Child When Simon Burns is fired from his job without warning, he takes on the role of stay-at-home dad for his three-year-old son. But his reluctance pushes his already strained marriage to the limit. In the nestled playgrounds of the Upper West Side, Simon harbors a simmering rage at his bosss betrayal. Things take a turn when he meets a tight-knit trio of dads at the playground. They are different from other men Simon has met, stronger and more confident, more at ease with the darker side of life- and soon Simon is lured into their mix. But after a guys night out gets frighteningly out of hand, Simon feels himself sliding into a new nightmarish reality. As he experiences disturbing changes in his body and his perceptions, he starts to suspect that when the guys welcomed him to their pack, they were talking about much more than male bonding. And as he falls prey to his basest instincts, Simon must accept that werewolves exist if he is to turn the tides of his fortune... Watch a Video
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Table of Contents
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc. 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA
Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)
Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephens Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)
Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)
Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi110 017, India
Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, Auckland 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)
Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa
Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
This is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product 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. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors rights. Purchase only authorized editions. ACE and the A design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Starr, Jason, 1966
p. cm.
eISBN : 978-1-101-51588-4
1. FathersFiction. 2. Male friendshipFiction. 3. WerewolvesFiction. 4. New York (N.Y.)Fiction. I. Title.
PS3569.T336225P33 2011
813.54dc22 2011005231
http://us.penguingroup.com
For Chynna
ONE
S imon Burns woke up feeling something nibbling on the back of his neck. Hed been having a dream where he was swimming in an oceanmaybe the Aegean, off Crete, where hed never been. It had been a pleasant, relaxing dream until he felt the nibbling. Then his heart rate accelerated as he was convinced he was being attacked by a shark or something deadly, and when he woke up he instinctively sat up and nearly elbowed his wife, Alison, in the jaw.
Hey, she said.
It took a few moments to register that he wasnt swimming in the Aegean and was in his apartment on Eighty-ninth and Columbus.
Oh, sorry. His heart was still pounding.
Alison was sitting up, hugging him from behind, kissing the back of his neck. So much for a vicious shark attack.
Bad dream? she asked.
Good and bad, he said.
What was the bad part?
I thought you were a shark in Greece.
A Greek shark, huh? Im not that scary, am I?
It was only a dream.
She kissed him again under his jaw, then asked, How do you feel?
How do you feel? was their code for Do you want to make love? Theyd been in a slump lately. No ones fault; theyd both been busy working full-time jobs, and when they came home they were with Jeremy until he went to sleepsome nights not until ten oclockand by then they were so zonked they usually crashed on the couch, watching TV. Dr. Hagan, their marriage counselor, had assigned them exercises to increase intimacy in their marriagegoing on date nights, planning romantic getawaysbut what with child care and work they hadnt had much time for any of that either.
Im feeling pretty good, Simon said, trying to get into the mood.
He kissed Alison on the lips, holding her head steady, and then she fell back onto the bed and he was on top of her, holding her hands. He tried not to get distracted, but it was hard not to. He glanced at the clock on the night tableseven forty-four. He was an account manager at a midtown ad agency, and he had a big client meeting in forty-six minutes. He tried to focus on making love, but he kept worrying about the meeting and the pending decision about a promotion, and replaying bits of random work conversations in his head.
Is everything okay? Alison asked.
Fine, Simon said. Why?
Never mind, she said.
Simon kissed her, moaning a little, and then his eyes shifted toward the night table: seven forty-five.
Mommy! Jeremy, their three-year-old, called from his room.
Alison gave Simon a look that asked, Can you believe this?
Maybe hell go back to sleep, Simon said.
They listened, didnt hear anything, and resumed making love, and then the alarm clock went off with what it played every morningU2s Beautiful Day.
I guess bad timing comes in twos, Simon said.
Mommy! Jeremy called again.
Coming, honey! Alison said. Then she pulled up her panties and said in a frustrated tone, This is so hard.
Simon, also out of bed, said, It was just a little coitus interruptus.
No, I mean all of this. She gestured with her hands, looking around the room. Both of us working full-time, trying to squeeze in sex whenever we can. And I feel like were missing Jeremys whole childhood.
Come on, Simon said. I think youre being a little melodramatic now.
You know what I mean, she said. We get to spend, what, three or four hours a day with him? Its just not enough.
Theyd been through this before.When Jeremy was born, Alison had considered leaving her job in pharmaceutical sales and trying to find something part-time, but when they crunched the numbers they realized they just couldnt swing it.They were barely getting by in Manhattan on two full-time salaries, and moving out of the city would be just as expensive when they factored in commuting costs and the need for two cars. So theyd decided to stay in the city and keep their jobs and hire a babysitter to take care of Jeremy on weekdays. The situation was hardly uncommonmost working parents in Manhattan had to hire babysitters, but it was especially rough when Jeremy had a learning leap and said a new grown-up word or learned a new trick in the playground. These were moments that parents could never get back.
Im just as frustrated as you are, Simon said. If my promotion comes through, maybe you can switch to part-time or even quit. But until then, theres nothing we can do.
I know, I know, Alison said. Im just saying, its getting to be a drag, thats all.
Alison put on a long Best Mommy in the World T-shirt and left to attend to Jeremy.
Simon shaved and showered as quickly as he could, and then he came out to the dining room, finishing getting dressed, buttoning his shirt. Jeremy was in his booster seat having breakfast: Special K and a juice box.
Theres my big guy, Simon said. Gimme a high five, kiddo.
He held up his hand and Jeremy slapped it and said, High five.
Thataboy, Simon said.
He glanced through the pass-through at Alison, who was unloading the dishwasher. He could tell she was still upset about their conversation, but there was nothing he could say to make it better, especially when he was already late for work.
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