Zeus is a scumbag.

  There. I said it.

  He plays with women like toys, ignores his wife, turns into animals to seduce mortals, and generally acts like a walking, thunder-wielding red flag. He’s the poster god for toxic alpha males with ego issues and a full-on fuck boi attitude. Honestly, it’s stale news to anyone who’s even skimmed Greek mythology. So… how do I — a mere mortal with unresolved plot ideas and a caffeine dependency — turn that into a romance hero worth swooning over?

  Maybe I should just leave the dream as that. A dream. I've had dozens of dreams that gave me wild ideas — epic world-building, twisty plots, magical cats that become empires — and yet here I am, fixating on this one.

  Let me pick one of the other insane plots my brain offered me at 3 a.m., shall I?

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  Nothing.

  Absolutely nothing.

  One thing about my brain? You can always count on it to fail you right when you need it.

  So I went back to the dream — that strange little spark where mythological and historical figures were being auditioned for stories. The idea: turn one terrible, morally-questionable legend into a romantic lead.

  Because of course that’s what I’m doing now. Not writing the other five projects I already started. Not outlining the fantasy novel that’s been sitting at chapter four for six months. No, I’m trying to seduce readers with Zeus.

  So, I made a list of six possible “romance leads” based purely on bad decisions and historical infamy:

  1. Count Vladimir – Not the vampire. The real guy. You know, Mr. Heads-on-Stakes.

  2. Seth – Egyptian god of storms, deserts, and chaos. Feels like a dark romance waiting to happen.

  3. Napoleon – Honestly, no idea why I added him. Guess he was better than Adolf Hitler.

  4. Ivan the Terrible – Royalty. Enough said?

  5. Zeus – Ugh.

  6. Jack the Ripper – Because apparently I hate myself.

  Yeah, you’re probably right: I’m in way over my head. But I told myself I’d follow whatever my brain fixates on, and this is it for now.

  So, I asked a randomizer app to pick for me — and the universe (or the algorithm) pointed its finger squarely at Zeus.

  Talk about fate, right?

  No. No, self. Shut up. You don’t get to talk about fate while contemplating a book on the god who cheated on his wife with everything that had a pulse.

  Sigh.

  Okay. I guess it’s time to dive deep into Zeus and figure out what the hell made people worship this guy — and why women (and nymphs and mortals and literally everything else) kept falling for him.

  Brace yourself, Wikipedia. I’m coming.