Lucky
Blow
Gods
and Pawns
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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