It isn’t every day a sexy demigod throws a pissed-off Cupid onto psychologist Matilda Schmidt’s couch and informs her the fate of the world depends on her ability to get him off his diapered ass and back to helping people fall in love.
Just when Matilda convinces herself she’s not hallucinating, in walks a Vegas hit man with a big gun and a bigger threat: pay back the million dollars she owes a notorious casino mogul, or wind up as fish food in Lake Mead.
Rocketing across country with a gun to her head, Matilda has a dysfunctional love-god in her laptop bag, a million dollar debt she has no knowledge of, and must convince the seductive hit man he’s snatched the wrong woman before he convinces her he might be the right man—for a night.
Can Matilda stay alive long enough to keep love from becoming history?
Cynthia St. Aubin wrote her first play at age eight and made her brothers perform it for the admission price of gum wrappers. A steal, considering she provided the wrappers in advance. Though her early work debuted to mixed reviews, she never quite gave up on the writing thing, even while earning a mostly useless master's degree in art history and taking her turn as a cube monkey in the corporate warren.
Because the voices in her head kept talking to her, and they discourage drinking at work, she started writing instead. When she's not standing in front of the fridge eating cheese, she's hard at work figuring out which mythological, art historical, or paranormal friends to play with next. She lives in Colorado with the love of her life and three surly cats.
Find out more about Cynthia St. Aubin on her website.
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Email me: cynthiastaubin@ gmail.com
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