As a postman by
day, and one of Santa’s reindeer on a single very special night, Cassius Cupid
eats, sleeps, and breathes deliveries. He doesn’t mind, but sometimes wishes
that someone would send him something more exciting than bills and junk mail.
One cold
January morning, Cassius gets his wish. A young woman arrives with a parcel.
Turns out it’s for his housemate – but Cassius doesn’t care. All he’s
interested in is Carina – the beautiful female courier.
Has Cupid finally met his match?
Has Cupid finally met his match?
Cassius Cupid
woke with a start, and then sat bolt upright in his bed. Shit, I’m going to be
late! was his first thought.
Milliseconds
later his brain switched on, and he remembered. He was on holiday. Flopping
back onto the warm mattress and pillows with a contented sigh, he smiled. No
work for fourteen whole days—it was going to be utter bliss. He stretched,
relishing the feeling it created in his sleep-softened muscles. Ahhh…this is
the life.
He knew he
wouldn’t go back to sleep—hell, it was eight o’clock, which was practically the
middle of the day for someone in his profession—so Cassius fell to thinking
about how he was going to spend his day, not to mention the several others in
front of him. God knew he deserved to relax and have some fun. He’d just
emerged from the busiest part of his year, and he was more than ready to do
some chilling out.
He enjoyed his
job as a postman—he really did—but the Christmas period was a total killer. He
idly wondered how many cards and presents he’d delivered over the past few
weeks. It didn’t bear thinking about. Once you factored in the festive period
itself, the weird few days between Christmas and New Year, and then the flurry
of mail that got sent when everyone went back to work properly at the beginning
of January, he’d racked up some serious deliveries. And that was before you
even thought about his other job—which was for just one day a year, but was
arguably more important than the other 364 put together.
Cassius—or
Cupid, as he was known to his boss and colleagues in his second, but most
important job—was not only a regular postman for the Royal Mail, but also a
reindeer. For a single day of the year, Cassius had the supernatural power to
transform into one of Santa’s faithful steeds and help pull that famous magical
sleigh, delivering presents to excited children the world over.
Therefore, it
wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Cassius really did eat, sleep and
breathe deliveries, but not for the next fourteen days. All he planned to do
was watch some TV, read some books, maybe go out hiking, meet some friends…
basically anything that wasn’t delivering something to someone. Hey, he might
even receive something through the post himself—preferably not the usual crap;
bills and junk mail. He didn’t hold out much hope.
He lounged in
bed for another ten minutes before realising he was lying there just for the
sake of it. Being on holiday didn’t have to equal staying in bed all day—and
certainly not for someone as active as him. He reached over to his bedside
table, grabbed his glasses and put them on. Throwing off his thick duvet, he
walked to his bedroom window and peeked out through the curtains, immediately
glad of the effective central heating he and his housemate had forked out to
have installed the previous year.
The outside
world was covered in a thick layer of snow, and Cassius was mightily glad that
he wasn’t out delivering letters and parcels. The stuff was treacherous enough
without having to carry a heavy bag up and down driveways, paths, and pavements
— most of which either hadn’t been cleared, or had been cleared badly, leaving
incredibly slippery patches of ground for an unsuspecting postie to come
across. God knows he’d gone down enough times, but, much to his relief, nobody
had ever seen him do it. He’d always been relatively unharmed—excerpt for his
pride, of course—and had been able to scramble back to his feet and carry on.
The eerie
silence outside was broken by the rumble of an engine, and Cassius turned his
head to look up the street—he lived in a cul-de-sac, so he knew that’s where
the vehicle would come from—and watched as a delivery van made its way slowly
and carefully down the road. He hoped the driver was sensible enough to try and
steer over the thickest parts of the snow—the more people went over and over
the same patches, packing it down, the more the road surface resembled an ice
rink. And since the cul-de-sac was on a slight hill, it was easy enough to get
stuck. He’d seen it so many times—even going outside one time last winter to
suggest the driver go down to the bottom of the road, turn around and try
reversing up the hill—an almost foolproof plan for vans with rear-wheel drive.
He’d gotten a big thumbs-up for that suggestion as the driver finally got to
the junction where the road became flat, and went on his merry way.
Lucy Felthouse
is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of
subgenres and pairings, and has over 140 publications to her name, with many
more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica,
Best Women's Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her
bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and
also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join
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