Top Cat and Tales
Copyright Elizabeth Bevarly
All Rights Reserved
“Oh, I bet you Trojans say that to all the girls.”
Aphrodite, goddess of love, fluttered her golden eyelashes coyly, then drew her finger along the chiseled jaw of the closest of the three men she’d brought home for cocktails. No wonder those twenty-first-century folks had a contraceptive named after the men of Troy. They were indeed a randy bunch. Just the way she liked them.
“Do come in,” she instructed her guests as she pushed open the door to her temple. “Artemis just turned me on to this new label of ouzo that’s absolutely—”
She halted midsentence as she stepped inside, the acrid stench of cat refuse filling her nose and burning her eyes. Not again. Honestly. You ask your son to perform one lousy chore before he goes out charioting with his friends, and what happens? He completely ignores you. Then again, what did she expect from a surly adolescent like Cupid? Changing the litter box was evidently beneath a god, even one who was still too young and impulsive to have achieved full deity status.