Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62528 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62528 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
“Well, stop jerking off so much. That should free you up.”
“That’s a big request, sir, but I’ll see what I can do to resist my stellar manhood.” For the record, Damien hadn’t touched himself in weeks. After his breakup, his dick was sad. Like it has a bad cold, only without the sneezing.
Votan continued, “All right, well, keep your eye on the ball, tailor. I’m schedule to depart in three days.”
“I am on it.”
“Where are you now?” Votan asked.
Why did he wish to know? “Dallas.”
“I am sending Belch to assist you.”
“The god of wine and tightie-whities?” No…
“Yes. And tailor? Make sure he stays out of trouble. I promised his mate, Margarita, that he would stay busy. Apparently, retirement is too boring for him, and he keeps organizing pop-up wine tastings. At Target. In the boxed-wine section. They’re threatening to sue.”
“Sue?”
“I think the DJ and free spankings scare the customers away,” Votan said, dead serious.
Damien had known Belch for years. The god often got smashed and then lost his clothes. One year, Damien sold over two hundred thousand dollars of custom-made underpants to the guy and an equal amount in trousers. However, after his mate, Margarita, came along, Mr. God of Wine straightened out and stopped drinking. Mostly.
That god was born to party. And vomit.
The odd thing was that before the gods retired, they’d all had a run-in with the demon king, who was now exiled back to his world along with all demons. Damien didn’t have the details, but the king had imprisoned the gods, and they escaped through a demon portal. Then the tainted, demonic energy of the portal jumbled up their powers. Votan had inherited the Love Goddess’s powers. Cimil supposedly had Votan’s gifts of Death and War. Damien did not know what Belch got, but apparently, he still loved to party, just like Cimil still enjoyed creating mayhem.
Perhaps at the end of the day, the gods were who they were regardless of becoming infused with new powers. Votan still busts balls like a war god, that is for certain.
“It’s really unnecessary to send Belch,” Damien said. “He’ll just get in the way with his quest for fiestas.”
“You need all the help you can get stopping Cimil. The last thing anyone wants is war. Even if I love war with all my heart. Gods, I miss it.” He sighed.
See. There it was. He “loved” war. Not liked, considered it his duty, or even enjoyed war. Votan loved it.
The love, death, and war god.
So if Damien was right, that would make Cimil the underworld, death, and war goddess. Not good. She’d been dangerous enough when she’d just been in charge of punishing wicked souls.
“I must go now,” Votan said. “Emma is packing for our ancient Pompeii trip, and I know she’s going to leave me with nothing but loincloths.”
Votan hung up.
What is wrong with these deities? The answer was everything.
Damien needed to tread carefully from here on out because Cimil was more dangerous than he’d realized. Unfortunately, she also held all the cards.
Someone really needed to end her for good.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
After a long day of caring for her animals, working side by side with her volunteers, Jac dressed for work at the club. Yes, work. Not that she needed the money now, but she wanted an excuse to see Dash and thank him. Maybe grovel a little, too, after the show.
Then she’d kick the crap out of him!
Larry was gone, and while she understood that everything living had to eat, did he have to chow down on her poor, three-legged friend? Larry had endured such a rough life. It felt wrong for him to go out like that, even if a teeny tiny part of her knew Larry was in a better place now, galloping across the plains of Africa. Free. Munching on tender treetops to his heart’s delight.
She sighed and slid into her truck, heading for the Pink Pit of Pleasure, completely unsure what the night would hold. All she knew was that her prayers had been answered by the unlikeliest of men. Dragons. Whichever. And that the animal world was much bigger than she could’ve imagined.
Cimil put on her hot pink wig and black cowboy hat, giving herself a twirl in front of the full-length mirror in her office.
“How do you like the unitard, Minky?” It was made of shiny pink spandex with fringe down the seams.
“Garble, garble.”
“I know. Festive, right? I have to present the appropriate vibe for our big night!” Every remaining female dragon around the globe would be arriving after their stopover in Honolulu. It was a long flight, and when they got here, they’d be hungry. Not just for food!
“Let’s just hope our he-dragon takes one look at all those rosy red cooters and biology kicks in. We need to juice him like a tomato on National Spaghetti Day.”