by Katee Robert
Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca
Book 2 in the Dark Olympus series
He was the most beautiful man alive. And if I wasn't careful, he was going to be my death.
In the ultra-modern city of Olympus, there's always a price to pay. Psyche knew she'd have to face Aphrodite's ire eventually, but she never expected her literal heart to be at stake... or for Aphrodite's gorgeous son to be the one ordered to strike the killing blow.
Eros has no problem shedding blood. But when it comes time to take out his latest target, he can't do it. Confused by his reaction to Psyche, he does the only thing he can think of to keep her safe: he marries her. Psyche vows to make Eros's life a living hell until they find a way out of this mess. But as lines blur and loyalties shift, she realizes he might take her heart after all... and she's not sure she can survive the loss.
Greek Mythology Retelling
Electric Idol is the second book from Katee Robert's hit Dark Olympus series. It centers around Psyche, and Eros. When there are rumors that her mother has gone past her arch nemisis - Aphrodite - to secure a marriage for Psyche with the new Zeus, Aphrodite is angry. But when Psyche and Eros are photographed together, and there is chatter in the tabloids about a secret romance, Aphrodite wants blood, and she wants her personal fixer - her son, Eros - to do it. Eros usually has no problem killing those his mother asks him to - but Psyche helped him when no one else would have in a moment of weakness, and he is hesitant. When he has his chance to kill, he instead comes up with a different plan: marry him. Because Aphrodite - his own mother - wouldn't risk Olympus figuring out she is having her enemies killed. The plan is an act. A modern day Romeo and Juliet for the public, and friends behind closed doors. But Eros can't deny his attraction to the beautiful, intelligent, and curvy Psyche, and she can't resist her own temptations. But with them both believing that their relationship is a lie, despite the steamy nights together, and Aphrodite becoming more and more of a threat, is a relationship between the two of them even possible?
I ... didn't like this as much as Neon Gods. It wasn't bad. There are just some issues that pop out to me that takes me out of it. First, was the emphasis on Psyche being a curvy woman. I love that she is a curvy gal. I love that Eros finds that sexy. But sometimes it felt like that was the only reason Eros was attracted to her. My second problem, and probably the biggest one, is that Neon Gods already covered the whole fake relationship trope. It was boring to go to the second book and it center another fake relationship. Aside from that, the sex was hot. Curvy girls for the win. Both characters are intelligent. Eros is morally grey, and I love a morally grey character.
Electric Idol was boring, but honestly, it won't stop me from reading the next book - especially since I read the synopsis, and it looks like a whole different plot line ... and a throuple. Colour me intrigued.
Eros: “Why help Aphrodite’s pet monster?”
Psyche: “Even monsters need help sometimes, Eros.” She stares down at where I touch her.
Psyche: “I’m going to need you to take your hand back now. I hardly want comfort from my murderer.” Eros: “You were right about my not liking people in my space, and cooking is one of the ways I wind down.”
Her frown fades, replaced by a look of intense curiosity.
Psyche: “And the other ways?”
Eros: “I work out.”
I watch her face closely.
Eros: “I fuck.”
Her complexion goes a bright tomato red, which is fascinating in the extreme. The only other time she’s looked ruffled is at the thought of her death. That I’ve affected her supports my growing suspicion that she’s just as attracted to me as I am to her.
Psyche: “That won’t work.”
Eros: “It’s worked just fine for me up to this point.” Eros: “The surest way to have you settle into the idea of me touching you is through exposure therapy. Sex will speed up that process.”
She blinks those big hazel eyes at me.
Psyche: “I’m sorry, I must have misheard you. I thought you just suggested sex with you as exposure therapy.” It’s…a mess. I stand in the doorway and take in the stacks of clothing draped over every available surface. There’s an antique vanity with countless jars and tubes of makeup and skin-care and hair-care stuff.
Eros: “You sleep in a closet.”
Psyche: “This is a bedroom.”
Eros: “Is it? I can’t see a bed anywhere. All I see are clothes.”
Psyche: “Shut up.”
She follows a small path of cleared floor deeper into the room.
Psyche: “I have a system.”
Eros: “I highly suggest you find a new system, because I can’t live like this.”
The thought of all this clutter, system or no, is nearly enough to make me break out in hives. I expected this room to be more of the attractive, welcoming vibe that permeates the entire penthouse. This is pure mayhem. I edge my way a little into the room and poke the pile of clothes balanced precariously on what I assume is a chair.
Eros: “I’m marrying a chaos monster.”
Psyche: “Then I guess we’re both monsters.”
I resist the urge to continue prodding the mound of clothing and focus on her.
Eros: “But we both know that’s not true.”
Psyche: “Yes, yes, you’re the biggest, baddest monster in the room. Stay on task.” I don’t care if she deserves someone just as sweet as she is. I want her chained to me, and I’ll rip out the throat of anyone who thinks they can take her away. Psyche: “What are you doing?”
Eros: “Setting a timer.”
Eros: “Because I’m about to get distracted eating you out and I don’t want to make the jeweler wait.”
Another of those slow, shocked blinks.
Psyche: “Eros, the jeweler won’t be here for forty minutes.”
Eros: “I know.”
I curse softly.
Eros: “It’s not nearly enough time.” So, yes, it’s entirely apt that my mother be the one to walk me down the aisle and give me away to my new husband. I slide my hand into the crook of her arm.
Psyche: “Thank you, Mother.”
Demeter: “You are my daughter, Psyche. More than the others, you are the apple that doesn’t fall far from my tree. I trust that you have a reason for doing this.”
She shoots me a severe look.
Demeter: “You should have told me. We could have negotiated for more favorable terms.”
Despite everything, I huff out a laugh.
Psyche: “Maybe on my next marriage.”
Demeter: “That’s my girl.” Psyche: “I want to. Stop being stubborn and let me suck your cock.”
I shove on his shoulder again, and this time, he lets me push him onto his back.
Eros: “With an offer that sweet, how am I supposed to resist?” Eros: “Pan and I have an understanding.”
That draws a surprised laugh from me.
Psyche: “Don’t tell me you’ve seduced him, too.”
Gods, every time he says my name, it’s like an invitation to do something I’m sure to regret.
Eros: “I’m hurt by your insistence that I’m moving through Olympus, leaving a trail of lovers behind me.”
Psyche: “Am I wrong?”
He chuckles and ducks his head a little. It’s horrifyingly charming.
Eros: “Depends on who you ask.”
This is bad. I need to be focusing on the plan rather than how attractive Eros is when he’s being self-effacing.
Psyche: “And if I ask Pan?”
Eros: “He’d argue that he seduced me Eros: “I don’t get it. There’s nothing to see. Everything’s dead.”
She smacks my arm lightly with her free hand.
Psyche: “That’s very glass half-full of you. The garden isn’t dead. It’s sleeping.”
I eye what appear to be bare sticks situated on the left side of the cobblestone path.
Eros: “Looks dead to me.” Psyche: “You never told me what you get out of this.”
When he just looks at me, I make a vague motion with my free hand.
Psyche: “The wedding, the deception.”
Eros: “I would think it’s obvious.”
He brushes his lips to my knuckles again.
Eros: “I get you.” Helen: “Gods, he’s such an asshole. Why did I even invite him again?”
Eros: “Because you said he’s an asshole whose face you’d like to ride,”
Eros says mildly.
Helen: “Ah. That.” Psyche: “Eros, I love you.”
The words spill so easily from my tongue. I dig my hands into his golden curls.
Psyche: “I love you.”
He looks almost agonized.
Eros: “I meant what I said earlier. I don’t deserve it.”
Psyche: “Love doesn’t much care whether you deserve it or not. It’s not exactly a conditional thing—or at least it shouldn’t be.”
He coasts his hands over my hips.
Eros: “I, in particular, don’t deserve to be loved by you.”
Eros shudders out a breath.
Eros: “But I don’t give a fuck. You’ve said it. You can’t take it back.” She finally nods, her lips curving in a slow grin.
Psyche: “Oh, by the way, I almost forgot. I have a surprise for you when we get home.”
She leans close and lowers her voice.
Psyche: “I bought some new lingerie. Play nice and I’ll let you tear it off me with your teeth.”
Eros: “You little asshole,”
I breathe. I have to adjust my pants a little, which makes her smirk. Even her damn smirk is sexy.
Eros: “Just for that, I am going to tear it off with my teeth, strip by lacy strip.”
Psyche: “Oh no, not that,”
she says, deadpan.