Book
1
Amanda
Washington
Genre: Urban Fantasy/Paranormal
Date of Publication: 9/27/16
ISBN: 978-1537101279
ASIN: B01KUEPQM2
Number of pages: 189
Word Count: 55,746
Cover Artist: Lindsay Cimina
Book Description:
Thanks to the deities in her family
tree, Romi has been enslaved to a life of larceny since birth. Well, except for
that one night, four years ago, when the goddess of love and debauchery sprang
her from her prison, slipped her some sort of magical roofie, and introduced
her to an irresistible blacksmith for a little tryst resulting in a child. So
when two powerful gods show up and offer her a way out of her thieving
lifestyle for good, she jumps at the opportunity. All she has to do is blow on
a magical sword and imbue it with luck.
Then she can finally find that guy
she’s been dreaming about and introduce him to their son. If only she knew the
blacksmith’s name…
But when the same gods use the
sword to rip Zeus’s essence from his body, Romi’s son is kidnapped and held for
ransom. Now Romi, her mysterious fling, and her teenage griffin babysitter have
to steal back Zeus’s essence from a cast of powerful gods, or they’ll lose the
child forever.
Excerpt:
MY DAY STARTED
upside down. No joke, I was harnessed, suspended midair, with my feet up and
head down, looking over a room full of priceless artifacts when the antique
grandfather clock beside the door struck midnight. Dings and dongs thundered,
reminding me I was running out of time. As much as I’d like to pretend my days
didn’t normally begin in an upside-down race against the clock, I’m not a liar,
just a thief. But hey, a girl’s gotta make a living somehow, and this was what
I was created to do—there’s a contract and everything—but that’s a story for a
time when my life isn’t literally hanging from the ceiling.
As I released
another inch of rope and lowered myself further, the black cocktail dress I’d
hastily tucked into the knife sheaths around my thighs tumbled free, covering
my upper body in chiffon and revealing my panties to the vacant room. I sighed.
This was exactly why I hated dresses. But since I couldn’t magically make my
normal work pants and T-shirt appear, I ignored my wardrobe malfunction and focused
on my objective.
My target rested
two feet, five inches below my head, locked away in an engraved metal display
box chained to a pedestal, which was bolted to the wooden floor and surrounded
by trip wires. Red lasers sliced the air between me and the box, rotating
randomly. Randomly…that’s what the alarm company’s brochure says.
I smirked. Human
security…so quaint.
Everything has a
pattern if you’re patient enough to find it, and I was so patient, my new
harness dug craters into my shoulders while I memorized the cycle. Random, my
ass. As my opening approached, I bent at the waist and let out a foot more
rope. The lasers shifted. I spit a small key out of my mouth and sprang back
down, sliding it into the lock. I technically didn’t need the key, but picking
the lock could potentially take longer than I had between laser cycles.
Besides, the owner
of this building was a sleazeball who’d been too busy “accidentally” bumping
into his party guests to notice my hand sliding into his pocket. A little piece
of me felt like I was doing a solid for women everywhere by ripping the jerk
off.
Getting back to
the task at hand, I turned the key and popped open the box. Magic flooded the
room like a pulsating glow of sunlight and power. Music sprang forth—some sort
of ancient battle song—forcing a vision into my mind. I suddenly found myself
in a bed chamber, watching an enormous brute swing a singing sword back and
forth as he advanced on the figure asleep in the bed. Shaking myself free of
the vision, I ignored the deafening tune and fought to stay focused on my
orders. Get in, get the weapon, get out.
The bedchamber
dissipated and I was once again in some rich guy’s trophy room, hanging upside
down and staring at a metal box. Within the box, a magical sword almost as long
as my legs and hooked at the end like a sickle, kept right on singing,
declaring its greatness to the world.
The lasers were
coming back around. I should have grabbed the sword, but the familiarity of it
gave me pause. I pulled back from the lasers and struggled to process what I
was seeing. I’d stolen some pretty high-value goods before, but this sword…I
knew this sword. I’d seen pictures of it in books and read the lore about it. I
was almost certain I knew what I was looking at, but I couldn’t accept it.
The Harpē?
It seemed to glow
brighter in response.
It can’t be.
Nobody seems to
know where the Harpē came from, but its lore began when Gaia, the goddess of
earth, and Uranus, god of the sky, birthed a handful of hideous children, known
as the cyclops and giants. Uranus sent the uglies to live in a hell-like prison
for deities, pissing off Momma Gaia so much she gave the weapon to their son,
Cronus, and asked him to whack off his father’s junk.
And I couldn’t
think of a single reason why a weapon powerful enough to take down the god of
the sky would be locked away in the trophy room of a human.
Was he human?
I’d done my
homework. Public records had the owner of this place listed as Aaron Blake,
some corporate CEO spawned from old money and raised to power on the backs of
blue-collar workers. The guy was textbook for a hit. I had no reason to believe
he was anything more than some greedy player.
Stupid, Romi.
If Aaron Blake
wasn’t human, what was he? A god or a demigod in disguise? Everyone called the
disguises glamours. They were more like a trick of the eye…easy to create. I’d
used the same type of magic to disguise the daggers strapped to my thighs,
assuring nobody would see so much as the outline of them through my dress. Yet
I hadn’t even looked for a glamour surrounding Mr. Blake.
I wasn’t prepared
to go up against a god, but the more I stared at the sword, the more certain I
was of its identity, which meant touching it would bring someone’s ire down
upon me.
Damn. What does
Shade want with the Harpē?
Shade was
terrifying enough without a magical sword at his beck and call. He already
wielded me like a weapon, and the idea of arming him with the Harpē made my
stomach churn.
No. I won’t take
it! I won’t give him this.
Determined to
follow through with my decision, I pressed the button on my harness and let the
rope retract. Pain blossomed inside my chest, and the further I got from the
sword—and the task Shade had ordered me to complete—the more I hurt. My insides
seemed to fold inward, squeezing the air from my lungs. I knew from experience
it wouldn’t let up. The pain would drive me crazy until I gave in and did my
sire’s bidding.
Stars danced
before my eyes, I smelled copper, and felt blood welling up in my nasal cavity,
especially unpleasant due to my upside-down position. Swearing, I pressed the
button again, halting my retreat. I’d only managed to get about five feet away.
I dangled midair, cursing both my sire and the mother who’d abandoned me with
him. Once again accepting the fact I had no choice, I lowered myself back down
to hover above the sword and wait out the next cycle of lasers.
Giving in to
Shade’s commands despite my personal convictions always left a sour taste in my
mouth, but I couldn’t disobey. Not with my kid counting on me to make it home.
About
the Author:
Amanda Washington is a lover of
wacky animals, enthralling books, dark chocolate, and red wine. She's always up
for a good adventure (real or fictional), and when she's not building imaginary
worlds, she's dipping her toes into reality in southwest Washington with her
husband and their boys.
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