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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ReplyDeleteThis sounds like an interesting read! Thanks!
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ReplyDeleteSherry Compton