Happy Sunday!
Blurb:
A CUPID'S WAGER
The name’s Lio, and I’m a cupid working for the Gay Division of the Inter-Dimensional Association of Cupids. An Aztec god, whose modern name, Ethan, doesn't make him any less scary, just busted me shooting a closeted human with a gay lust arrow. I might find him sexy with all those tattoos and piercings, if I didn’t have a rule against getting it on with other supernaturals—especially ones working for the Straight Division. Now, to save my butt I'll have to strike a bargain with this tough god. But what I didn't see coming was my little wager not only risks my career, but places my broken heart completely in Ethan's hands.
Excerpt:
Chapter One
“SHIT!”
I was so gonna get my ass chewed for this.
And not in the good way.
I snapped my fingers, and my quiver of arrows disappeared into the cosmic nothingness where magical things went when demigods snapped their fingers. No clue where that nothingness was, and in my hundreds of years of existence, I’d never bothered to find out.
However, right then, such mysteries were the furthest thing from my mind because I had just nailed another cupid’s mark. Now the glittering trail of purple dust from my lust arrow was like the laser sight of a sharpshooter’s rifle, pinpointing my exact location.
I was so fucked.
Again, not in the good way.
The explosion of both purple and red dust in the street below meant the aftershock of my lust arrow striking the human first had deflected a love arrow. I was pretty sure the owner of said arrow would be coming to bitch me out any second. Cupids could be such whiny little cunts when they wanted to be.
Believe me, I would know.
I’m a cupid.
The name’s Philomenus, but I answer to Lio.
Just one of Eros’s many, many offspring, I’m employed for eternity by the Inter-Dimensional Association of Cupids, or the IDAC. Contrary to what paintings and sculptures depicted, cupids are not fat, naked baby boys in diapers. While on the small side, we look just like regular folks. No wings either. Involved in every aspect of love, from puppy love and first kisses to weddings, the IDAC is militantly organized. They take their task of giving the humans love very seriously—like a supernatural FBI, complete with orders, rules, and procedures.
And I just broke about a hundred of each.
Before I could conjure a location to send myself, a pop sounded behind me.
Huge steellike hands grabbed the collar of my leather jacket and yanked me around.
“What the hell, Lio?”
Bodily shoved against the ledge of the rooftop, I let out a tiny yelp of surprise when the magic inside my body surged white-hot, almost as if it recognized something…. WTF?
That had never happened before.
Then again, I’d never been busted shooting closeted gay men with Class 4G lust arrows either.
Righting myself, I flipped unruly blond curls out of my eyes and faced my attacker, arms out in a show of surrender. “Hey, ease up, pal.”
“What the hell?” that menacing voice growled again.
Thanks to all the gossipy cupids in the IDAC, I recognized the god immediately, though I’d never seen him before.
Éhecatl, the Aztec god of the winds.
