Deer in Headlights (Hearts and Arrows 1) (Good god series)
Read Deer in Headlights (Hearts and Arrows 1) (Good god series) Online
Authors: Staci Hart
Tags: #romance, #Women's Contemporary Fiction, #Paranormal Romance, #Romantic Comedy
Copyright © 2013, 2014 Staci Hart
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Cover by
Quirky Bird
More Books by Staci Hart
Hearts and Arrows
Deer in Headlights (Hearts and Arrows 1)
Snake in the Grass (Hearts and Arrows 2)
What the Heart Wants (Hearts and Arrows 2.5 Novella)
Doe Eyes (Hearts and Arrows 3)
Fool’s Gold (Hearts and Arrows 3.5 Novella)
Hardcore (Erotic Suspense Serials)
Bad Habits
With a Twist - Summer 2015
Chaser - Fall 2015
Last Call - Winter 2016
Nailed - Erotic Shorts
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Reference
To my grandmother. Your lust for life, grit, and determination made me who I am, and I miss you every day.
'The tender spring upon thy tempting lip
Shows thee unripe; yet mayst thou well be tasted:
Make use of time, let not advantage slip;
Beauty within itself should not be wasted:
Fair flowers that are not gather'd in their prime
Rot and consume themselves in little time.
—William Shakespeare, Aphrodite and Adonis
SHE FOLLOWED HIM THROUGH the tall grass of an open field, her outstretched fingertips brushing poppy petals as she walked past. The sun broke over the ridge of the mountains before her, bathing the valley in the soft glow of dawn, and he looked over his shoulder, reaching for her hand. She slipped her fingers into his, and he pulled her into his arms, pressing his lips into her hair.
“I love you,” he whispered, and she closed her eyes.
They flew open again when her iPod alarm blared “Dancing Queen,” and she reached over, blindly slapping at the dock’s off button.
Perry, the dreamcrusher.
Her best friend was the only person demented enough to wake her up with ABBA.
Dita flumped back in bed and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping for a few more minutes of sleep as she mourned the loss of her dream, knowing she’d never stop missing him. Pain flashed through her chest like a comet, and she hugged the pillow closer, wishing she could drift away again, but it was no use. She was awake. With a sigh, she grabbed a handful of her comforter and flung it off.
She breathed deep and slid off the bed, then padded into the bathroom, pausing at the counter when she caught her reflection in the mirror.
Aphrodite, Goddess of Love, had lived for thousands of years, had hundreds of lovers, and made millions of love matches. She had seen the world through feast and through famine, through war and through peace. She had loved and lost, but always endured. From ancient Greece and Rome to castles in France and Britain, she’d lived all over the world and seen it all, through corsets and knickers, flapper dresses and polyester, big hair and blue eye shadow. But she’d never enjoyed a time period as much as the one she was in.
Dita fluffed her long, blond hair as she leaned over the sink, then ran her fingers under her bright blue eyes, giving her reflection a subconscious duck face. A tiny weight sat on her bare foot, and she looked down to find her mini Pomeranian, Bisoux, with his copper head quirked. She smiled and bent to pick him up, nestling him in her side as she scratched his head, murmuring to him in French.
She dropped into a red velvet armchair in her living room and scratched her dog’s tummy until his leg thumped. Bisoux was an automaton made by her husband, Hephaestus, an inventor. He looked exactly like a living dog, sans excrement and dying, which was perfect for an immortal goddess with no yard.
The elevator dinged, and Dita turned to find Persephone, Queen of the Underworld, walking through her foyer in leggings, a v-neck, and hot pink socks.
“Morning,” she said with a smile as she plopped down on the couch and propped her feet on the arm. Her big, dark eyes were bright behind nerdy glasses, and she twisted her long, black hair over her shoulder.
“Nice alarm, asshole. Hades’ sadism has worn off on you in a way I don’t know that you’ll ever quite shake.” Dita wiggled her fingers in the arch of Perry’s foot.
Perry squealed and tucked in her feet to keep them out of reach. “I aim to please. I know how much you love ABBA.”
“I’ll never forgive Apollo for those Swedish harpies.”
Perry giggled.
“Did you come up just to gloat, or did you need something?”
“So bitter. I’m sure you’ll pay me back.” She held her hands out for Bisoux, and Dita handed him over. Perry kissed his head. “To answer your question, yes, I mostly came up to gloat, but also because I have a feeling something is about to change.”
Dita cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, psychic Perry? Tell me Persephone, mistress of the dark, what do you see when you look into the future?”
Perry threw a throw pillow at her. “Ha, ha. Don’t dog on my title.”
“Will you dress up like Elvira for me? Please?”
“My boobs would never do that. Anyway, focus. You don’t feel it?”
Dita thought for a second and felt it, just under her heart, a tug at the thread that connected all of the gods. “Yeah, I feel it. Do you think it’s the end of another competition?”
“Maybe. Hephaestus and Ares have been going at it for a long time.”
“Yeah, and that’s not awkward at all.”
“Your husband versus your lover?”
“Estranged, on both counts, thank you very much. Anyway, it’s not like they need a reason to compete against each other. They’ve been fighting for eons, and competitions rarely have anything to do with it.”
“Well, if it
is
over soon, you realize you’re up next?”
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. “Yes, and I am so ready. It’s been too long since I’ve had a real challenge. There is nothing I love more than making love matches.”
“And winning.”
“Yes, and winning,” Dita said with a smile.
Perry’s stomach growled so loud that Bisoux jumped. “I’m a little hungry.”
“You’re always a little hungry.” Dita stood, and when Perry joined her, they locked arms and made for the elevator with Bisoux in Perry’s arms.
They stepped into the metal elevator, and Dita hit the lobby button, thanking the stars again that they didn’t still live in medieval times when Olympus had been fashioned after a cold, drafty castle with about a kabillion stairs.
Olympus existed in a dimension apart from humans, unreachable by humans, though the gods could visit Earth whenever they liked. For thousands of years, many gods and creatures chose to live on Earth, until it became too difficult to stay hidden. Almost all of them had moved back.
The gods were obsessed with humans, adopting their style and culture as they influenced it. Both were passionate creatures, and even though humans had worshiped the gods for eons, the gods almost worshiped them more. Olympus was always modeled after the most intriguing architecture and culture of the time, and at that moment was fashioned after a high-rise, luxury apartment building in New York City, a city they loved so much that every window and every patio looked out over Manhattan.
When the elevator dinged, the goddesses strutted into the kitchen where a handful of gods milled around. Zeus sat at the head of the table with a newspaper, clearly trying to ignore everyone. Hera, his wife, shuffled around the kitchen like a zombie with giant pink rollers in her hair, wearing a silk robe printed with peacock feathers. She carried a cup of coffee to the table and sat down, yawning.
Hephaestus leaned over a plate of fried eggs and toast at the large kitchen island, his shoulders broad in a thick, navy blue knit sweater. He looked over at Aphrodite as she walked in and gave her a warm smile. She smiled back, and his cheeks flushed.
Perry sat down next to Hades at the island and planted a kiss on his cheek as she set Bisoux down. He smiled down at her, his eyes dark, his black hair neatly combed, and pushed a heaping plate of cupcakes in front of her. She bounced in her seat, and he smoothed his tie, looking pleased with himself.
Dita walked around the bar to the gigantic stainless steel fridge and pulled the heavy door open. The cool air hit her cheeks, and a comforting hum greeted her as she scanned the shelves for breakfast. Loaves of honey colored glop sat on white dishes, lined up like gooey little soldiers. She grabbed a dish of ambrosia and turned to the door where she picked up a bottle of nectar, the golden liquid so rich that it was almost luminescent. As she turned around, she kicked the door closed with a soft thunk and set her haul down on the counter.
Nectar of the gods. Har har.
Both nectar and ambrosia tasted like greasy ass. It was seriously, absolutely, and completely revolting. None of the gods consumed it in its pure form. Instead, they used their powers to make it look and taste like something more appealing. The only beings that ingested nectar or ambrosia in its natural state were humans who had been granted immortality. It was a running joke with the gods, who found it amusing to watch them try to choke it down while attempting to convince the Olympians that it actually tasted good.
Oh gods, thank you for this delectable gift! (gag) No wonder it is only allowed for the gods, for only upon them should such a savory gift be bestowed! (gag)
Hilarious.
She plated a slice of ambrosia and poured the nectar into a coffee mug with a giant heart on it. Her hair stirred as a soft breeze swirled around her, and the scent of roses tickled her nose. Aphrodite blinked. When she opened her eyes, her mug contained steaming coffee, and her plate of nasty-loaf was transformed into a heaping pile of hot bacon.
Dita picked up her breakfast and walked over to the bar where she plopped down next to Perry.