Once, Eros was worshiped-the pulse behind every stolen glance, every whispered vow, every moment daring enough to be called sacred. Desire was not born; it was felt. And then it was forgotten.
Sealed beneath the sea by gods who feared the power of unbridled love, Eros now returns in flesh and memory. No wings. No worship. Just skin, air, and fire. As he walks through a world that has traded touch for transaction and passion for hunger, old forces stir. The gods are watching. Mortals are dreaming. And Eros is ready to remind them of what it means to feel.
Told in lush, poetic prose, EROS is a sensual myth for a modern age-a confession of lust and exile, a love letter to bodies that remember, and a defiant hymn to the holiness of longing. It does not ask for permission. It aches. It burns. It remembers.
