Pirate Doug What in the Chicken of the Sea was I thinking to agree to this half arsed Otherworld Defense Agency mission? I’m the most absurdly good looking Vampire Pirate of the High Seas. Being on the run for my life is very important work… and a freaking full time job. Defending Mermaids from some vicious Sea Hags is going to cut into my pilfering time. Unacceptable. Even though this is a very bad move on my part, I know I’ll eventually agree—too many bounties on my arse to refuse, and the thought of a certain Mermaid makes my roger quite jolly. However, Tallulah, the leader of the Mystical Isle Pod of Mermaids, isn’t going to be happy to see me… at all. The horrible, sexy, breathtaking woman has been starring in my dreams for too many years to count. Sadly, just when my mind wanders to the really good nookie part, the dream ends with her lopping my Johnson off. I just hope to Hell and back that the Sea Hags have some outstanding booty to steal. If I’m going to have to regrow my tallywhacker, the treasure had better damned well be worth it. Tallulah Running a tourist trap for humans in the Bermuda Triangle had sounded like a fine plan—until it wasn’t. With the Sea Hags gunning for our island and ruining our questionably successful business, I did what any desperate Mermaid would do. I called for backup. Of course, getting help from the Otherworld Defense Agency is risky as they don’t usually deal with ocean creatures. Whatever. Desperate times call for crappy measures. Chances are they’ll send freaking Pirates. I hate Pirates… Well, I hate one Pirate in particular. Hopefully, it won’t be the one seafaring jackhole I despise more than any other. Pirate Doug would be an idiot to show his face here after what he’d done. Not only did the dumbass abscond with our treasure, the son-of-a-bitch took my heart with him as well. I’ll tear his sorry ass to shreds if he so much as steps even one hairy toe on my island.

Ariel What in the clam shell does a Mermaid have to do to find true love? I’m bored. And if I’m being honest, I’m jealous. I want my sister to have her happily ever after. I do. But I want my own adventures and my own true love. For two hundred years I’ve suffered through one immortal asshat after another while stuck on Mystical Isle. And while running a tourist trap for humans might be entertaining, I’m never going to find my true love in this sea of monotony. Of course, there is a Selkie… the sexiest most idiotic man-seal I’ve ever had the misfortune of swimming across—definitely an asshat. Unfortunately, the dork still invades my dreams on a regular basis. I finally have a shot at an adventure. I must save our island home. However, the mission is to seek out the very Selkie who stole my heart… the same asshat whose Johnson I’d tried to truncate. Holy hell and seashells. Only I would agree to a tsunami waiting to happen. Ask any tuna you happen to see… Who’s the craziest Mermaid? That would be me. Keith What in Poseidon’s rum soaked arse does a three hundred year old Selkie do when his parents desert him and leave him to fend for himself? I mean, my Gods, laundry and cooking are dangerous business. Wait. What would Aquaman do? More specifically—what would Jason Momoa do? He would save the day and the damsel… I simply needed to find a day and a damsel to save. Maybe the only thing missing in my life is the beautiful blue haired Mermaid who wants to lop my Johnson off. Wait. No. A Johnson-less Selkie is not something I aspire to. And to make matters worse, my mother is up my backside for grand-Selkies… Grand-Selkies mean I have to impregnate someone. Impregnating someone means that I have to find a mate. Finding a mate means I have to get a job and use my gift—whatever that is. This could be a problem. Whatever. I’m going for it. Why? Because that’s what freakin’ Aquaman would do.

Misty What’s love got to do with it? If you’re Cupid, everything. If you’re me, not a thing in the sea. I don’t believe in love. Poseidon is smoking some bad seaweed if he expects me to take the one job I’m obviously not qualified for. Rumor has it, Cupid is a chubby baby with a bad attitude. That’s all I need. A pissed off porcine toddler with love arrows gunning for my tail because I took his job. On top of that, the idiot I’m kind of seeing who shall remain nameless—mostly because I don’t know his name… don’t judge—left red and silver magic all over my skin and hair last time we… umm…went on a date. And guess what? It doesn’t wash off. Poseidon saw me sparkling away and now I’m freakin’ Cupid. Getting to the bottom of this abyss means finding what’s his name and thrashing his fine, smexy behind with my fin. Why does this send shivers of delight all the way to the tip of my tail you might ask? I have no clue and no time to figure it out. Don’t judge. I’m about to give love a bad name. Cupid Love is a fool’s game. Or at least I thought so for the past millennium. Getting fired by a slightly inebriated God of the Sea isn’t so bad as long as you can find your way past the slurring of his words. Finding out Poseidon’s replacing me with the Mermaid I’ve been seeing for the past fifty years is an arrow straight to the heart. And not the good kind. No big deal, right? I’ll just go to her and explain the job is mine. End of story. Of course, it could get a bit awkward since we never actually exchanged names. I’m Cupid and will always be Cupid. Sure, I may have slacked off a little and caused a tear in the abyss that may have possibly let some Demons through to this plane. I mean, who doesn’t let that happen every now and again? But the word around Mt. Olympus is that said Demons are coming for Cupid. And if she’s Cupid and I’m not, then they’re coming for my Mermaid. Unacceptable. It might be a battlefield—but in the name of love, I’ll fight for this crazy little thing.

What could possibly go wrong when a Mermaid and a Werewolf are sent on a dangerous mission by the drunken, diaper-wearing God of the Sea? Better question. What could possibly go right? Madison Unlike my sisters, I haven’t found my HEA. And I’m looking—hard. But finding a man who wants to blowhole dive in Hawaii on the first date is more difficult than you might imagine. I’ve been forced to settle for a few meaningless orgasms with men who disappear when I suggest fun activities, like scaling twenty stories while blindfolded. Look, I know meaningless nookie won’t help me find my happily ever after, or even a guy who believes tightrope handstands over the Grand Canyon are fun. But there is someone out there for me so next time I do the horizontal mambo, it’s for keeps. May the gods help me. Well, me and whoever I boink next. Rick Being a Vegan Werewolf has its drawbacks. I’ve been exiled from my pack and even the petting zoo of deer, rabbits and raccoons I keep safely tucked away from my fellow Weres isn’t enough to banish the loneliness I feel. Talking to myself is becoming dangerous. Just two days ago out of stupefying boredom, I made a wager with myself that I could fly. It didn’t end well. Thankfully Poseidon is sending me on a mission. Unfortunately, it’s with a crazy Mermaid who has a worse reputation for death defying recreation than me. I have no clue what’s in store, but may the gods help me. Well, me and this swimming hottie, because I’m totally down.

Mix one part Mermaid—one part Genie. Throw in an intoxicated God of the Sea and and a few smack-talking Pirates. What have you got? Pandemonium. Petunia’s Pandemonium to be more accurate. Petunia Letting the ocean current take me where it may for the last twenty-five years hasn’t worked out so great. So, instead of getting my tail in a knot, I’m making some swimmingly simple changes. —Stay on Mystical Isle with my cousins who love me. —Avenge my parents and eliminate the sea monster who’s wreaking havoc. —Forget about the gorgeous, no-good Genie who left me at the altar… so to speak. —Stay away from Genies until the end of time. —Join Poseidon’s embarrassingly named online dating service for Immortals and get back into the game. What could go wrong? Del I’m a Genie in a bottle baby. Or at least I was. After spending a quarter of a century, doing time for streaking at the Super Bowl after being destroyed by love, I’m a free man. It’s time to get my life together and forget about the Mermaid who didn’t want me. The list is simple. —Stop granting wishes to idiots. —Figure out why the Genie Star Fire Light in my eyes is burning out before I die a slow agonizing death. —Eat an outstanding cheeseburger. —Stay away from Mermaids. —Join Poseidon’s embarrassingly named online dating service for Immortals and get back into the game. It’s a plan. Not necessarily a stellar one, but it’s a plan. Come for the Vacation. Stay for the Shenanigans!

What in the salty seas could be more important than presents at Christmas time? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Tis’ Christmas time on Mystical Isle and just like the fat bastard in red, I’ve made a list and now I shall check it… twice. Yeah, twice. I might wear a diaper, but I’m not an arse. Battle the human women in sweatpants and snow boots for electronics on Black Friday. Check. Cover each palm tree in lights even though the Mermaids insist they look phallic. Check. By the way, what does phallic mean? Never mind. Check. Moving on. Weave a Christmas tale during family story time on the beach, have a family portrait made in the special sweaters I pilfered, and write a letter to Santa. I mean, fat bastard… Check. Planning activities that may end in bloodshed. Check. That’s what I call a yuletide win, so check-check. It seems I have everything under control and Christmas on Mystical Isle will be unforgettable, or I’m not the Well-Hung God of the Sea, Poseidon. And I am. Check.