Love Stinks, Inc., an Uncollected Anthology story
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February 16th saw the return of the typical chilly morning fog.
The tops of the tall office buildings in City Center were shrouded in thick grayish-white mist, but Dyte could still see the faint outline of the white-spoked Ferris wheel from her office. It was one of the reasons she’d chosen an office on the tenth floor instead of taking the twenty-second floor penthouse suite, which she’d subdivided into offices for her managers.
Dyte liked to keep her people happy, which was also why she’d given everyone except a skeleton crew the rest of the week off—with pay—and the skeleton crew were each getting a hefty bonus.
Love Stinks, Inc., had had a record holiday season, not in the least due to the last-minute advertising Dyte had managed to set up before she left the office on the 14th. She’d changed the focus of her company’s advertising from “love is for wimps” to “love happens more than one day a year.” She’d had to buy a few spells—a few very expensive spells—and curry favors from the God of Cable Advertising (yes, there was a god for that, too) in order to get it done on time, but she’d managed, and the results had shown clearly in her company’s bottom line.
She did, after all, have the best head for business in her family, outside of maybe her dad.
Zeus had been impressed. Apparently he got real-time sales numbers from all businesses any of the old gods or their families had an interest in.
Dyte chewed slowly on a piece of dark chocolate, savoring the rich, slightly bitter flavor, as she stood next to her office window. The lights had come on on the Ferris wheel, and as she watched, it slowly began to turn, starting and stopping as passengers were loaded into the gondolas.
Today was a work day for most people in Moretown Bay. The Ferris wheel probably wouldn’t be busy if she wanted to take a ride by herself as she’d originally planned. She could make it happen even if she didn’t over tip the attendant. After all, she was a full-fledged goddess now.
The naming ceremony had been elaborate and lasted far too long, with too many speeches and posturing by Zeus and Apollo and even her dad, but the after party had been epic. Dionysus had given her a cure for hangovers as her naming day gift, which she’d needed after the God of Tequila had convinced her to try each and every new brand his company would be putting on the market for Cinco de Mayo.
Funny. She didn’t feel any different. Even though she was now known—at least among the old gods and goddesses—as the Goddess of the Chronically Single, she was still just Dyte, immortal daughter of Cupid…err, Eros…and Psyche, granddaughter of Aphrodite, etc., etc. She still had her own company. She’d apparently adopted one of her own stuffed cats as her personal pet.
And she was still a romantic at heart.
She’d given Stewart the day off, so she was able to slip out of the building almost unobserved. She dressed in casual Friday jeans and Doc Martens and a navy blue hoodie that was thick and soft and kept out the damp chill. She walked downhill toward the waterfront, but instead of heading toward the Ferris wheel, she turned north toward where the seawall was under construction.
She was the official goddess of some very savvy and patient people. People who were willing to wait for the right person to come along, and who were willing to take a chance that friendship might turn into something more. It was about time she quit acting like her dad, expecting love to strike with a sudden spark like a bolt from one of his arrows. Her arrows, the ones she’d never used, were more on the more pragmatic side, and she’d surprised herself to discover she was okay with that.
As she walked, she chucked the black stuffed Love Stinks skunk in the pocket of her hoodie beneath its fuzzy chin. Like the cat, it held a red satin heart in its front paws with the Don’t Do This symbol stamped on the fabric, but unlike the cat, it had hot pink stripes down its back.
Dyte was pretty sure Luke was confident enough in his masculinity to accept the skunk as a gift, and she hoped he was understanding enough to accept her apology and maybe let her buy him an ice cream cone. She was looking forward to finding out if they could build their friendship into something more long-lasting even after she told him who she really was.
After all, mint chocolate chip was his favorite ice cream flavor, too.
Truly great love affairs had started with far less.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Award-winning author Annie Reed describes herself as a desert rat who longs to live by the ocean. Since she hasn’t yet convinced her family to relocate to a nice chunk of beachfront property, she’s done the next best thing—written a series of stories set in a contemporary Pacific Northwest city where magic and reality go hand in hand. Private investigators Diz and Dee populate Annie’s more lighthearted stories, while denizens of a much rougher neighborhood lurk in her Tales From the Shadows.
A talented and versatile writer whose fantasy, science fiction, and mystery stories have sold to a wide variety of publications, including five of the first seven volumes of Fiction River’s inaugural year, Annie is also the author of the Abby Maxon mystery novels Pretty Little Horses and Paper Bullets, as well as A Death in Cumberland.
If you liked Love Stinks, Inc., and want to read more about Dyte, check out Annie’s Diz & Dee story Omens and Oracles and Eros, Oh My! for Dyte’s first appearance.
For more information about Annie, go to www.annie-reed.com.
THE UNCOLLECTED ANTHOLOGY STORIES
Love Stinks, Inc., is part of the innovative Uncollected Anthology series.
Every three months, the talented group of UA authors picks a theme and writes a short story for that theme. But instead of bundling the stories together, each author sells their own. No muss, no fuss—you can buy one story or you can buy them all. (We’ll be honest; we hope you buy them all!)
This time around we’re thrilled to feature a story by USA Today bestselling guest author Kristine Kathryn Rusch!
If you’d like to keep reading more fine stories with this issue’s theme—Heartspells—click on the following links:
TRACK 61
Kristine Kathryn Rusch
(featured guest author)
Kessa possesses only small magic. But her skills allow her to help those who wield bigger magic.
Her latest job takes her deep into the bowels of New York City’s subway system, hunting for bits of history long since forgotten.
And what she finds deep down in the dark will both threaten her life and change it forever.
“Rusch is a great storyteller.”
—RT Book Reviews
THE MIDNIGHT GARDENER
Leah Cutter
Joanie finally found her heart out in the backyard, hanging in an old fir like a Christmas ornament, covered in bees…
Now she must discover what it means to hold her heart open for another.
THIS IS THE WORLD CALLING
Dayle A. Dermatis
Tansy and Ki’s families are two of the most powerful witch dynasties—and the feud between them puts the Hatfield and McCoys to shame. So why, then, did their parents not care when the two would run off and play as children, lost in their own little world? When they meet again as adults, Tansy and Ki’s mutual attraction makes it vitally important that they find the answer to that question.
“…One of the best writers working today.”
—USA Today bestselling author Dean Wesley Smith
LOVEBIRDS
Michele Lang
Nancy gave up on love a long time ago, and lives a well-researched, rational life in Buffalo, New York. But winter gives way to spring, and the voodoo love store downtown sells not just lovebirds, but the potential for a different kind of life. When she finds the courage to say yes, love swoops out of Nancy’s dreams on borrowed wings.
“Lang is a writer to watch.” – Booklist
HEARTFIRE
Leslie Claire Walker
— Vengeance is mine. —
Someone kills a woman in the alley behind Snake Bite Tattoo—a clear declaration of war against its dan
gerous proprietor, Malek, the serpent from the Garden of Eden made an immortal man. If he can work a spell in time to bring the woman back to temporary life, she can tell him who murdered her and why. He’ll track them down and make they pay. End of story.
But he doesn’t count on remembering that he once knew her, or the feelings that rise in him along with the memories. Or that the reason for her death and the declaration of war are not what they seem.
“For more than a decade now, I have adored the work of Leslie Claire Walker.”
- Kristine Kathryn Rusch
SWITCH BACK
Phaedra Weldon
Skylar loves Erin. Erin loves Skylar, only as a friend. Because Erin loves men.
Frustrated with her feelings and the impossible situation she finds herself in, Skylar seeks out a local witch for advice. The witch gives her a spell, with a warning, that once the the spell is sealed with true love, there is no going back.
Table of Contents
Start Reading
1
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
THE UNCOLLECTED ANTHOLOGY STORIES
TRACK 61
THE MIDNIGHT GARDENER
THIS IS THE WORLD CALLING
LOVEBIRDS
HEARTFIRE
SWITCH BACK
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