 by J.A. Huss.jpg)
Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Love.
When mutual, it’s Heaven on Earth.
When one-sided, it can tear you apart.
There is no greater weapon than the heartsick soul.
That is the power I wield, for I am the God of Love.
No one has power like me.
No one can poison a heart and pollute a mind the way I can.
That is why the gods kicked me out.
That is why they made me fall.
But now I’m back.
I’m going to ruin kings.
I’m going to destroy gods.
I’m going to crush the whole wicked world with the power of the broken heart.
Well, that was the plan.
And then, out of nowhere, there she was.
After two-thousand years, there she was.
The one who made me love her.
The one who stole my heart and then broke it.
She is how the gods ruined me.
And now it’s my turn to ruin her.
The Savage Rage of Fallen Gods is a story of a broken heart. It is a tale of regret, and promises, and how revenge can darken a god’s soul. It is a standalone book in a brand new series by New York Times bestselling author, JA Huss, writing as KC Cross.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER ONE - EROS
There is a point in a man’s life where he just has to face facts. Reality check, if you will. When all the senseless self-reflection is over and it’s no longer useful to deny the truth.
I’m at this point, standing on the roof of my bar and looking out at the sleepy little town of Savage Falls. My kingdom. The one space where I am allowed to live—if that’s what I’m doing—and be in control.
In past times Savage Falls used to live in a sort of tandem with Granite Springs, Pennsylvania, which resides fully and completely in the human realm. At least it did. I could see through the veil of fog on occasion, and with some magiceutical effort, I could even travel across it every now and then. But for the most part Savage Falls existed in a state of in-between. A stasis, if you will. Or, in my opinion, a stagnation.
But things have changed over the weeks and months since the Saint Mark’s Sanctuary curse ended. For one, Granite Springs and Savage Falls have merged. The straddling of worlds is over and now both places exist in the same stagnation.
Which does nothing for me, if I’m being completely honest. And that’s the point here. Reality check.
It’s early morning. The sunrise is probably a couple hours away but there are still a few monsters roaming the streets down below. Drunk, most likely, as monsters are wont to be if left to their own devices. I have no interest in reining them in, so their own devices will have to suffice. I like them here only because they fill the place up.
It is less lonely than it could be.
But the state of being alone is a funny thing. Because it doesn’t actually require the absence of others. I’ve learned, over the course of thousands of years, that you can be completely singular while in the company of the masses.
I don’t know exactly how long I’ve been here in Savage Falls because time runs a little funny on this side of things. This town was once a village. Was once a camp. Was once a forest and an ancient city. Savage Falls has been many things over the course of time, which goes faster, or slower, or something in between every now and then depending on outside influences.
But I can point out the event that started this current curse cycle that I am now in the middle of. It happened nearly twenty years ago on the day I stole a little gryphon chimera lioness called Pie right out from under the noses of the succession gods and sent her to live a lie in the Realm of Pennsylvania as a human.
She was six years old and had been gifted magic that day by the ancient god, Ptah. It was very big, powerful magic in the form of rings that could open doors to other worlds. And, see, doors are what I need. Doors go places and all you need is a key. You don’t need to come up with elaborate spellings or procure rare magiceuticals that must be mixed just so in order to coax out transformative properties which can be then applied for life-altering change.
No. None of that is necessary. You just use your key to open the door and then you walk through to a brand-new life waiting on the other side.
Unfortunately, my plans were thwarted. Moves and countermoves, as they say. But the interesting part about this thwarting is that there is no way to pinpoint where it falls on the timeline. Twenty years ago is the recent past, in my opinion. But in other worlds—or specifically the world this thwarting took place in—it was the ancient past, not the recent.
Time. It’s variable.
And so the plot thickens.
Empty promises.
Betrayals all around.
But isn’t everything always about betrayal?
I could’ve found more magic in that girl, Pie, but it would’ve taken considerable effort, so I retreated.
Live to fight another day, as they say.
And here I am. Standing on my roof, looking out at my town, alone.
Singular. Solitary. Apart. Isolated. Separate.
And trying to come to terms with things. Doing my best, at least.
Reality check.
The wind passes over me, cooling the hot night and making the membranes on my giant bat wings shudder. They droop low now because they are so heavy, the tips almost dragging on the ground. They are not much good for flying, but they get the job done in a pinch. Mostly, they are attached to me as a reminder of what I’ve lost.
Which is much more than feathers.
I am the god of love.
I am immortal.
I wield the power of both obsession and indifference.
But I will never be anything more than alone.
Hate is my soulmate.
My soulmate is hate.
Callistina is already in my bed when I enter the bedroom of the little apartment above the bar. She’s naked on top of the sheet and stretched out in a pose reminiscent of a cat, which makes sense because in her other life, before the cursed one she was thrust into here, she was a gryphon chimera. A lioness. Pie’s big sister, to be exact. A royal beast from the House of Fire. First Daughter, in her case. Not Second, like little Pie.