Redemption of the Gorgons Series Paranormal Romance by Claire Davon ➱ Promotional Tour with Giveaway

 

Gorgon's Price

Redemption of the Gorgons Book 1

by Claire Davon

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Euryale will never forget the day the gods turned her into a monster. After millennia, her heart beats faster at the idea of regaining her normal form. For the feel of skin and not scales, hair and not snakes. But the price could be too high.

Knowing full well the gods can’t be trusted, Euryale agrees to take on a reluctant partner to track down whoever is murdering a growing number of gods. A murderer no one cared about until the killings edged uncomfortably close to bigger and bigger pantheons. Tracking the murderers down is the price she has to pay for her newly restored form—and that of her two equally cursed sisters.

Asher’s unusual gift for eerily horrific sound effects make him a highly sought-after voiceover artist. While he keeps a low profile, there has always been a ticking time bomb in the form of the bargain between his banshee mother and his father, the god Ares. It’s time to pay up—or pay with his life.

As Euryale and Asher dance around their mutual mistrust, the friction ignites a fire of unexpected attraction. But love is almost as impossible as the dangerous task ahead. Because even if the murderers don’t stab them in the back, the fickle gods certainly will.

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Gorgon's Quest

Redemption of the Gorgons Book 2

Thanks to her sister Euryale’s bargain with the gods, gorgon Stheno is back in human form—but far from comfortable in her skin. As the fiercest warrior of her three sisters, she mourns her tough, beastly hide and snaky hair.

The last thing anyone would call Stheno is girly—much less beautiful—but before she sets out to find her lost, mortal sister, Medusa, she googles a salon at random to cut off her annoyingly long hair. Her stylist is Marwen, a man with compelling, light-brown eyes that glow with an otherworldly light.

The last of Stheno’s unruly locks barely hit the floor when the first attack comes, and in a heartbeat they’re on the run. As their passion ignites, they realize they didn’t meet by chance. They’re both entangled in a prophecy drawing them inexorably toward one fated conclusion: Medusa. But there’s a faction working just as hard to make sure it never happens.

To save her sister, Stheno will have to face her fear—that once she unleashes her beast, Marwen won’t look upon her with love any more, but with horror.

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Gorgon's Release

Redemption of the Gorgons Book 3

A prophecy has been set in motion. Only love can change its course.

Medusa awakens in an unfamiliar cave, catches a glimpse of her reflection in a pool—and screams. Her thick hide, claws, snake-hair, even her ability to turn anyone into a garden statue with a look, all gone.

 The heart-stopping beauty that caused her and her sisters’ downfall is restored.

Confused, uncertain, vulnerable in her weak human body, she sets out across an unfamiliar countryside, where she meets a stranger from whom she can’t tear her once-deadly gaze.

The first time Olivier lays eyes on Medusa, awareness hits him low and hard. Her penetrating gaze ignites desires deep in his psyche, and an awareness that brought him across an ocean to await the answer to his great-grandfather’s cryptic message: Now is the time.

A secret in Olivier’s bloodline could help Medusa fulfill a prophecy to cause the downfall of the gods. But as they race to discover its final missing pieces, the truth becomes clear. They could be pawns in a hidden struggle for power. One wrong move, and their future could be lost like stones in the sea.

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Gorgon's Price

Excerpt #1

Asher’s broad shoulders twitched against the trendy form-fitting shirt he was wearing. The ripple of his muscles was evident under the cloth, and something flipped inside her belly. It had been a long time since she had been driven by anything other than bestial desires. If she were in her other form, she would have sniffed the air to inspect if he was feeling the same heat she was. But she was no longer a beast.

Except she was. It had taken them decades to stop thinking of themselves as immortal goddesses, and it would also be the reverse. It had been so long since someone considered her with longing—and for her to feel that same pulse within her—Euryale wasn’t sure what to make of it. 

“How much do you grasp of how things work today?”

She scoffed at him. “I’m a monster, but I’m not living in a cave. That’s for legends. I made my home in Casper, Wyoming after all. I can function—I have a glamour that allows me to move in human circles. I keep to myself and don’t socialize, but I get by. I can assure you I act appropriately in polite company. I’m not going to turn around and eat them. Although,” she grinned and allowed her shields to slip, “mortals can be tasty.”

The image she projected of eating a man who had mistaken her human form for a weak one was designed to shock. To Asher’s credit, he displayed no emotion. 

“Good. That will make this easier.” Euryale was disappointed. He took her for who she was now and not a monster, something she hadn’t experienced in a long time. 

“What do you have in mind?”

“Our cover is that I met you when I vacationed here last, and we fell in love. It’s been a long-distance relationship. You’re moving to Los Angeles to live with me. To answer your question, I think the reason that the gods asked for our help is because we can find out things a god could not. We’re both creatures whose weapons are sound, and it may come in handy in battle.”

Euryale met his gaze and tried to probe his mind but found that his shields were good. Almost, but not quite as good as hers. 

“Asher, that’s nonsense. The real reason they came to us is that we are expendable.”

He nodded. “That too.”

Excerpt #2

Euryale’s tone was challenging, and the goddess raised an eyebrow. Asher had to remind himself that Euryale, too, was a goddess.

“We cannot afford for him to make a hash of it. If he does, then the banshees must take up the battle. This cannot go unanswered. Asher, you will find help in unexpected locations. We are many places where people do not think we can be. Too often, older women are disregarded. It is to our benefit to remain, as you Americans say, under the radar. You may need allies and we will provide them. Just don’t eff it up.”

That seemed to satisfy his mother, although she was still stiff with indignation at his side. He could feel a wail growing in his throat, a desire to howl at their queen, but he resisted. Asher had no doubt that Clíodhna could top whatever he could do, and more.

“You are a goddess,” Euryale continued, “Does Asher have a way of getting in touch with you if he needs you? I don’t mind telling you that I’m happy to know we’re not completely alone.”

She looked from the goddess to the man and Asher paused, and then glanced at his mother.

“I can reach out if I need to, no matter the distance. I think…I think you will be watching, my Queen, is that right?”

Clíodhna gave him an approving nod. “It is, young Asher. I was concerned you were not up to this task, but I may have been mistaken. There is more to you than meets the eye. Your god blood is a potent mixture with banshee stock. And you, Gorgon, you are quite unexpected.”

Euryale said nothing for a moment, studying Clíodhna. The other goddess neither blinked nor stirred, and Asher wondered if they were communicating without words.

“So, if we need help, then all we have to do is call for one of you?”

Clíodhna appraised Euryale for more long, silent moments and Asher speculated what they were saying to each other. He could get nothing from behind their shields. 

“If you are in need of assistance, we will be there. You have been elected to fight this battle and we would not take that glory. But you are not going in alone. If the need arises, we will find you.” She extended a hand toward Roisin. “There is nothing more potent than a mother protecting her child. In this sense, the banshees are all your mothers.”

“What would be better is identifying who or what we’re trying to find. That, and some teeth and claws.” Euryale did not appear to be kidding.

Clíodhna appeared to consider Euryale’s statement with the same gravity that the other goddess had. “Your centuries as a beast have not yet faded. That may prove to be an asset. I wish there was more I could tell you, but Cian’s mind is clouded from the attack and he remembers little of it. Just that he heard a high, piercing wail, and then he…exploded. It was gruesome, from what the Morrigan said. Those women love the blood, which cheesed the banshees off.” Clíodhna also didn’t appear disturbed by the idea. “He is not quite himself yet, or I would have had you meet with him.”

“How long do you think these people have been murdering gods?” Asher set his cup down. He didn’t like that they hadn’t received this information until it started affecting the major pantheons. 

Clíodhna’s gaze went to the horizon, her face shadowed. “A decade or longer. We are gods, Asher. Time has little meaning for us. There is a method and a reason for what these killers are doing. Discover that and you will find them.”

He studied the goddess. “Fair enough. But once we do, how do we stop them?”

She returned his gaze, but he couldn’t read her face. “That is the mystery, son of Ares.”

Excerpt #3

Harmonia’s attention was directed to where the din was coming from. “You would think that, monster. We are not responsible for this. You have brought this blight to the island. How dare you?”

Aphrodite rose, still having every appearance of being unconcerned. The clamor grew until it was a shriek, and Asher couldn’t imagine how Aphrodite could stand it. Even he, a banshee, was having trouble.

Harmonia whirled around. The source of the sound came from the bottom of the cliff. Asher ran to Euryale’s side. She was still in a defensive crouch, her perception focused on the sand below. Around them the day was warm and breezy, but the racket dominated everything.

Aphrodite patted her lips and gestured to her daughter. Harmonia made a strangled noise and then crumpled.

The noise continued to rise. 

“I’ll be right back,” Euryale said, and without another word, plunged off the cliff.

Asher’s attention was split between the heartbreaking image of his woman plunging to the bottom, and his collapsed half-sister. As he watched, Euryale landed, and then was once again on her feet. It was then that he remembered one of her Gorgon talents was the ability to leap. He always believed that meant up and not down, but now he stood corrected. 

Aphrodite summoned a waiter, and they pushed Harmonia onto a makeshift couch strung together with two chairs. The other patrons in the restaurant had given up any pretense of their conversations and watched the trio with avid interest. He had no time to wonder what they were thinking of Euryale’s nosedive to the bottom of the cliff. He would worry about that in a moment. First, he turned to Aphrodite. She was patting her daughter’s face with a wet cloth, her face still serene. No frown lines or imperfections marked her beautiful visage, but he detected a momentary flicker of concern.

“I have to get down to Euryale,” he said, and Aphrodite glanced up. Now, pain flew across her face before it was gone, shuttered by a sanguine gaze that had to be a façade.

“Your Gorgon does not expect you to follow,” the goddess replied. “She is far more experienced in this than you are.”

“Nevertheless, I have to go down to her. Is Harmonia…will she be…what happened?”

“It is unclear. I believe your adversaries are taunting you.”

He coughed, anger starting to flare within him. “They’re your adversaries, too.”

“This task was given to you, banshee. Do you not understand? This is your mission to complete. Our lives are at risk and so is yours if you do not do what is needed. These gods who think they can murder us must be stopped, and you must do it.”

He paused. “Gods?”

She waved a hand toward the cliff face. “Only a god can kill a god. Why else would Athena bring a goddess into this? Did you ever wonder why your talents were needed? These criminals have the same skill set as you do, and therefore you are suited to combat them. Your Gorgon is down there wanting to take action, but she will not find your opponents. This is a mere way-stop. A pause in the proceedings, if you will.”

He scanned the prone Harmonia. As he studied his half-sister, the sound cut off. 

Aphrodite rose, barely glancing at her handmaiden. Asher would have been appalled at the lack of empathy before this quest, but she was a goddess. Compassion was not part of the package. 

“There. It has ceased. You must move to your next destination and end this. Or everything you have struggled for will be for nothing.”

“Next destination…” There was something else detectable in Asher’s blasted ears, a trickle of sound that rose to a torrent.

“…come…come…we are waiting…”

GORGON’S QUEST

Excerpt #1

Marwan stirred and then blinked. His eyes were a light brown and so penetrating that she was caught by his stare. Something moved in her belly and tendrils of responsiveness shot through her limbs, leaving her breathless. 

She kept her shields up without thinking. Stealth and subterfuge were so much a part of who she was that she had long ago learned to keep her thoughts private. As a goddess she had good shields, and she wasn’t sure if Marwan understood all she was capable of. She would keep it that way. He had been careless with the god. There may be others lying in wait to accost them. Utu was powerful, and where he went, more may follow his lead. He also had followers and they could be anywhere. One may have even been their driver. There was a reason Stheno preferred not to keep the company of deities. 

“I’m going to purchase a swimsuit and go to the pool.” She neither invited nor didn’t invite him. She just waited. 

Marwan nodded and stretched. “I will take a shower and determine our next move. I’ll get some food as well. There’s a restaurant I glimpsed nearby—any requests?”

She shook her head. “Get what you think is good. Protein, and if they have desserts, something sweet. They have room service. Order what you think I’d like. I’m going to swim.”

She was aware of his gaze lingering on her even after she left. It had been a long time since a man was able to take in her human face and not have it be a mask. The façade that the gorgons had kept up as monsters allowed them to pass as humans, but the glamour didn’t extend to intimate contact. As a monster she used her glamour ability to move in human society, but she never portrayed a stunning figure of a woman. Pretty women drew undesired attention. 

Just ask her sister, Medusa. 

Now, in her goddess form she was conscious of her red hair, curly like her snakes once were, although after his haircut, short and easy to maintain. Her original face was once again revealed to the world, and she wasn’t used to masculine attention. To be sure, some men were always attracted to strong women, but more liked the beautiful, submissive types. The women who let the men run the household and deferred to their mate.

That was not her.

She purchased a swimsuit from the front desk and carried it to the nearby massage-slash-sauna area to change. The pool was large and luxurious, a welcome oasis in this hot environment. Stheno had it pretty much to herself, with a handful of children dancing around the concrete. As she understood it, there were about a hundred rooms or detached cottages facing the gardens in the middle of the grounds. The hotel called them “magnificent,” but she had been privileged to behold the Hanging Gardens of Babylon before those impossible gardens had been swallowed by the desert. Very little could compare to that.

They may go past the lands where those Gardens had once existed when they made their way to Sumeria. It was hard to be certain with such things. The fact she harkened back to them just now made her wonder at the connection. Many things were more linked in this life than people were aware of. Stheno filed that away for future consideration. It may be that those ancient grounds had something to say to her. She would have to investigate further.

She began swimming in laps, both enjoying the long pool and getting some exercise. The other occupants of the pool were splashing about with loud enthusiasm. Children were like that—they made the best of any situation. 

She was so intent on her workout she didn’t grasp right away that everything had fallen silent. Stheno went to turn a lap, and then noted that the boy who had been splashing a moment before, was now immobile. Everything was still except her.

A shape slid toward her in the pool.

 

Excerpt #2

His indrawn breath satisfied her ego. He rose to a semi-seated position and waited, his eyes like dark coals against his tan skin, showing the heat and fire inside him. It echoed within her as well, a burning desire that outstripped anything she had experienced for a long time. 

“Stheno,” he said on a gasp. “You are…you are…” He shook his head. “There’s no words for what you are. I want to kiss you.” He said it as though expecting to be rejected. She moved her hand up his leg and then removed it. He let out a disappointed sigh until she eased onto the bed, stretching full-length against him. 

She turned her face to his and grinned at his avid gaze. “I want to kiss you, too,” she said and then bent over to press her lips to his. It was a gentle caress, but his warmth seared the chill deep inside her. Marwan made a soft moan and put an arm around her, hauling her over him so that they were chest to chest.

“Stheno, miya miya,” he murmured, smoothing her hair back and holding her head still. “You are beautiful.”

She wasn’t, not by god standards. She was attractive, and could become ravishing if she chose, now that her godhood was restored, but she stayed the way she was made at the beginning. Not for her—the gleaming radiance of false beauty. 

“It is my sister Medusa who is the magnificent one.”

He pressed a finger to her lips. “Don’t argue with me. Medusa is trouble, and she has caused you nothing but misery for centuries. I say it is you who are beautiful. Stunning, fierce, and so sexy.” 

Then he kissed her again, and all rational thought fled. She nipped at his lips, her hips pressing against his. He was firm and hard, leaving no doubt that he was a man aroused. The Stheno of a few weeks ago, the monster who could glamour herself to seem normal, would have grabbed this man and plunged him into her body, beast self or no. But something made her hesitate. Marwan was not that man, or her that beast. He was something and someone different.

She stroked his head, experiencing something akin to gentleness, which was unlike her. Unable to resist, she kissed him again, this time darting her tongue inside his open mouth. He tasted of the sugar cookies, and the drink Ayizan had given them, and something more. There was a flavor to him that was attributable only to Marwan, and all the more compelling for that distinction.

He groaned and moved his hands down her back until they pressed against her butt, holding her against his fierce erection. He was shuddering, his breath coming in hard pants, matching the passion building inside her. Part of her wished to throw caution to the wind and embrace her monstrous side, but still, she slowed. As much as she desired to have sex right now, it wouldn’t be…right.

Still, she kissed him, nipping and tasting and licking, and as she did so, she allowed herself to rub over his hard heat, his body convulsing as she touched him. That she could be doing this to him made her feel like the most special woman in the world. It was a moment that transcended all others because he knew her for who she was, and still burned for her. It had been centuries since any man had felt that way about her, if anyone ever had. The two people who had loved her in her life were her sisters.

His hands ducked under her shirt, the shock of his touch resonating through her. It would be so good to be naked with him, stroking and caressing, savoring each other’s flesh until they were screaming for one another…

She murmured a protest and he stopped. 

Marwan met her gaze. “I could get carried away.” He kissed her before putting his arms around her and embracing her. She rested her head on his shoulder and let herself be rocked. He was something special, and she wouldn’t rush it. 

“I could as well, but we need to take it slow.”

“I’ll go at your pace. So,” he said after they embraced for long moments, “what is our next move?”

She accepted the change in topic, aware that she had caused it, and regretting that necessity. 

“Now that your task here is done, it is time for us to go to Sumeria.”

 

Excerpt #3

Something had woken him. He couldn’t identify the source, but an entity had reached into his mind and stirred him to wakefulness. Marwan eased out of the bed and went to the window. Although the black night coated everything, the glint of the lake shone. Marwan understood that was where he was supposed to go. He couldn’t ignore a summons that could rouse him out of sleep. There was one group of beings that could do that—the gods. 

He had a few questions for them, anyway.

He made his way down to the lake, heedless of his path, trusting that whatever was compelling him would keep him safe. He would soon find out if this was a waking vision, a dream state, or reality.

It wasn’t a god but a goddess who waited for him when he arrived down by the water. Wet sand oozed under his bare feet, but Marwan paid no attention to the squishy sensation. The woman studied him in the manner of a teacher examining a student. He searched his memory and found a name. Geshtinanna. He gathered all he could recall about the dark-haired woman in a brown cloak, surrounded by mystery. She was a local deity, an agricultural divinity associated with dream interpretation. She was linked with interpretation, but not the dreams themselves. It was a puzzle, but there was a lot that humans didn’t understand about the ancient gods.

“Am I dreaming?” 

She gestured with her hand to the water. “It may be that you are. It may be that you are not. Walk with me.”

Marwan fell into step next to her. Despite his height, she was taller, but that was the way of dreams—or visions. 

The lake lapped against the shoreline, a peaceful counterpart to the unease inside him. A snake was hissing but didn’t seem like one of Stheno’s. Could other gods penetrate Geshtinanna’s dreamlands? His ancestor was god of vegetation and the Underworld, and snakes—he had to have experience in other realms. Marwan realized how little he knew about the pantheon he was descended from. He had been away too long.

“The veil between dreaming and waking is thinner than you grasp, son of Ningishzida. Dreams can be useful, when expertly employed. Those who are your enemies can’t detect them.”

“Is that why you came to me in this manner?”

She inclined her head. “The gods who pursue you are related to me through my brother. The prophecy has frightened them. They think that by stopping you from waking the sister, you will be prevented from enacting what is to come. However, it is not them who took her. They would have interceded, but another was there before they arrived.”

Shocked, he turned to her, but she was staring over the water. “What is the prophecy?”

 She shook her head. “I don’t have an answer to that. It is something that has been kept guarded by those who have read it. But you and the sister have a place in it, and the day is drawing near.”

He lowered his gaze. “By ‘the sister’ you mean Stheno, not Medusa, is that correct? Medusa is somewhere she shouldn’t be, and it is Stheno that is relevant to me, not Medusa.” He wasn’t sure it was wise to say the next words, but he went ahead. “Medusa matters to Stheno therefore she is important to me. Otherwise she wouldn’t be of much concern.” He should have been ashamed saying this in front of one of the Sumerian mother goddesses, but he wasn’t. There was little point in lying.

“It is as I suspected. What is coming will have great impact on the gods, if what I have learned of the prophecy holds true. But prophecies are a funny thing. They do not often transpire in the ways people expect. It is in trying to thwart them that people make their mistake. You have a part to play in this. It is not an accident that you and Stheno were brought together. I have witnessed the two of you in my visions. Much hinges on what you do. Your role in this is as big as the one Medusa plays. Utu, my brother’s wife’s brother, hunts you for many reasons. The prediction is but one. Beware him and be wary of his followers. There are many possible outcomes. I have followed their paths in my dreams. I cannot counsel you on what the right one is. You are not alone in this. Not all of us are aligned with him. We will help if we can. There is much still to do.”

Geshtinanna continued to walk and did not quite touch the ground. In all other ways the landscape had the solidity of reality, but that single fact told him he had to be asleep. 

“I don’t have any idea what I’m supposed to do next. I am at a loss, goddess.”

“Do not worry. It will not be long. They are coming.”

With that, Marwan jerked awake.

GORGON’S RELEASE

Excerpt #1

When Gaston scrambled to his feet, Olivier followed suit. When in Rome…or France. He craned his neck, unsure of what had commanded Gaston’s attention.

Then he saw her.

The most beautiful woman he had ever seen stood before them, flanked by a man as big as he. Her amazing face was a study in confusion. She studied first Gaston and then Olivier, furrows marring the perfection of her honey-colored eyes. Those orbs were like the rest of her, sweet and delicious. He could drown in them.

Gaston offered the woman his hand. She placed her hand in his bigger one and allowed him to guide her to a chair. The new man took one of the empty seats, lowering himself down carefully as though the wood might not hold his weight. 

Olivier could identify.

The waiter came over, but Gaston waved him off.

“Olivier, these are the ones we were waiting for. This is Chrysaor…and Medusa.”

“Crazy what parents will name their kids.” She’d been introduced as Medusa, but it didn’t mean this gorgeous woman was the Medusa. Despite what his uncle said about gods and prophecies. “I’m Olivier, and I still don’t get why I’m here.” 

Awareness kicked him low and hard, sending his blood pressure rising. It wasn’t just her beauty. Something in him recognized her as someone he had known all his life, although they had never met. The tips of his ears grew hot as a streak of white-hot longing swept over him in a wave. The absurdity would have entertained him if not for the fact that he couldn’t speak around the desire thickening his tongue. 

“This is Medusa. The very one. She is alive.”

“That’s impossible. This whole thing is ridiculous.” Olivier was inches away from getting up and storming away from the café. They were mocking him. “The old tales were partly true. I get that. I learned from my great-grandparents. I’m living proof. Still, the fact remains that Medusa was a hideous monster slain by Perseus centuries ago. Even if that’s mostly myth, she is dead.”

Gaston cleared his throat. “It’s complicated.” He gestured to Chrysaor. “But it is nonetheless true. She is Medusa, who has been restored to her original form, and he is her son. Chrysaor.”

Olivier struggled to try and remember the myth. He couldn’t recall if Medusa had children or not. Even if she did, it didn’t matter. They would be dead like her, and long buried. He was being played for some kind of fool.

“Who are these men? Why are we here?”

The idea that this man and this woman could be mother and son was ridiculous. This had to be some elaborate scam to trap the American gargoyle for an as-yet unknown reason. It could all be a long con by his so-called uncle. He didn’t know much about Gaston. The sensible thing to do would be to get up and leave, and to heck with the elder gargoyle. Nothing held him there—he had no obligation to his companions. His stone powers moved within him, and for an instant, his nails turned gray. The control to change their arms alone was a hard-won talent and he knew better than to reveal it. That secret was sacrosanct in his line.

He didn’t move from his chair. Awareness pulsed through him from the balls of his feet to the tips of his ears. She had a creamy complexion, her jet-black hair making the paleness of her skin more acute. A hint of red touched her skin as though it hadn’t seen the sun in a long time. Her penetrating gaze bored into him and awakened the desires that lay deep in his psyche.

Olivier shook his head. He should go. Yet he stayed. Pressure built in his head, making it difficult to think.

“They are men who can help you,” Chrysaor said, and then gestured to the strangers. “This is Gaston, and this is…” He waited for Gaston to supply the word.

“Olivier.” Gaston bowed his head. “He is my nephew.”

She gave them both a sniff and studied Olivier. “I sense the unfamiliar in you. It’s a family trait. You’re…” She breathed in and then out, her gaze boring into his soul. “You’re a gargoyle. How are you walking around during the day? Why are you not upon buildings?”

She studied him and his cock twitched. Olivier tried to keep a cool demeanor but sweat gathered under his arms. It was like in his high school boxing days when he’d taken a hit to the solar plexus and was reeling on the ropes.

“Gargoyles are not what legends say. As you are not.” It was Gaston who spoke, while Medusa’s attention stayed on Olivier. A shadow crossed her face, seeming to darken her mood. His plummeted as well at the mere sight of unhappiness on her. Ridiculous. He hadn’t even known the woman ten minutes.

She focused on Gaston, her appraisal peremptory and quick. “That is true,” she said before turning back to her son. “Thank you for the supplies. Why did you move me? That cave held protection and safety. Stheno has long informed me of that.”

Chrysaor’s smirk was enigmatic. “I have long been aware of your location, but it was better to let things continue as they were. My aunts did not know that I knew. You were important to them, but your children were not. They never sought me out—if they remembered my existence at all. Never mind that. We have things to discuss.”

The pressure behind his temple increased, and Olivier could almost hear voices inside his mind. He stayed rooted to the spot, staring at Medusa.

 

Excerpt #2

The cry that transformed into a roar made Medusa whirl back toward Olivier. 

He grappled with nothing but a shadowy outline that engaged in combat with Olivier’s gargoyle. He roared into the air, clawing at the dirt.

Chrysaor pelted toward the murkiness, a battle cry on his lips. Ponos stood and stared at the scene without moving. Medusa went to follow Chrysaor, but Pegasus brushed her onto his back with his wing and then vaulted into the sky, flying several dozen feet above the fray. From that distance she could make out the dark patch in the field that had no solid form. There were many legends and portents of such evil in her mythology. There might have been something humanoid in the bulk, but she could not determine its form. Shadows flooded the area, cloaking the ground.

“Let me down,” she said. “I can help.”

“I just got you back. I am not going to risk you again,” Pegasus said in a whinny she understood. “Chrysaor is a seasoned fighter. Let him handle it.”

The gargoyle that had been Olivier was covered in stone but had mobility. The shadows flowed along his hide but found no purchase. He bit into the dimness, which gave just a little under his teeth. He would be terrifying to anyone encountering him—if there was a being to face. 

She had encountered wendigos. She had battled werewolves and tangled with the black dog in the British Isles, but she had never come across anything like this.

Medusa could not sit by on her son’s back and not aid the gargoyle and her son. If she were in her beast form this thing would be reduced to a block of stone. Not even a formless shadow could resist her stare.

“Let me down,” she cried. “I must help them.”

“There is nothing you can do,” he neighed. “They are better equipped.” 

As she watched, Chrysaor entered the fracas, pummeling at the dimness. It shoved at him and he staggered into Olivier. Olivier missed Chrysaor by a hair’s breadth when his tail swept through the area, finding little to attack.

Without warning, the shadows disappeared from Chrysaor and Olivier. Ponos continued to watch from a distance, neither moving toward nor away from the fray. Then the darkness shot past Olivier and straight toward Gaston. The man didn’t have time to cry out in surprise before it was on him. Chrysaor broke from Olivier and rushed after the gloom, but flew backward when he reached the edge of the black spot. Olivier leapt, struck something solid, and bounced. He tumbled back, the rebound sending him end over end. Olivier headed toward the shadows again as Chrysaor ran toward it. Once again, they were repelled.

A sucking sound filled the area and then—nothing.

Nothing but patches of grass and moonlight stood where the dusk—and Gaston—had been. The man, and the thing that had taken him, had vanished. Olivier and Chrysaor struck at the spot, but encountered nothing.

Gaston was gone.

 

Excerpt #3

As she ran back to the fountain, the sounds of the altercation faded behind her. She rounded a corner to the fountain, and its thick press of tourists came into view. Medusa searched for Olivier’s large form and spotted him above the fountain, searching the crowd. She dashed toward him, calling his name. Olivier whirled and staggered, his face widening in what appeared to be a combination of shock and relief. She threw her arms around him and he grasped her close, his body trembling.

“I couldn’t tell which way you went. I searched, but you were out of sight. What happened? How did you get away?”

He ran his hands over her body as he asked questions, as though to reassure himself that she was okay. She let him touch her, belated fear surging through her veins.

“It was the Tritons. They came out of the museum over there.” Medusa pointed toward the street she had come from. “I don’t know how they knew we were in trouble, but the gods are mysterious. Perhaps they saw it through the fountain. It is over. We are safe—for now.” She touched the welt on his forehead. “Olivier, you’re hurt.”

He jerked his chin in the direction she had indicated. “It’s nothing. Let’s go.”

They rushed back toward the fracas, Olivier’s hand firmly in hers. But when they got to the spot where the Tritons had sent her on her way, there was nothing but broken tree branches and gawking pedestrians. Olivier focused on the nearest person, a teenager with a cell phone who was recording the area.

“What happened?” Olivier asked, his body studiously at ease. “We heard the fight, but now there’s nothing. Did we miss something good?”

The younger man continued to use his phone to scan the site as he spoke. “It was some Roman reenactment or role-playing. The guys were weird, like some kind of mermen. They came out of nowhere and then disappeared as quickly, like a flash mob. They’re gone now—went that way.” He pointed away from where her would-be kidnappers had been taking Medusa.

The kid wandered off, his attention fading. Medusa wondered why he wouldn’t just examine the beauty in front of him instead of through his phone. 

“Should we follow them?”

The thrill of seeing the Trevi fountain dissipated in the face of the attack. It had been far too easy for the men to take her. 

“No.” She shook her head. “It would do no good. The only reason anybody would kidnap me is the foretelling. They are getting bolder if they would strike at me in this crowd. Events are coming to a conclusion.”

“It’s no surprise. They don’t know which gods you’re supposed to kill. It could be anyone. I’m surprised more aren’t seeking you out. We got lucky that it’s just a handful so far. We could chase them down. I’ll protect you.”

Like you protected me just now? It would be cruel and unkind to speak the words, and he was good to her. 

“It’s not necessary. They have already vanished into Rome. What we need to discover is what was not revealed in the oracle’s divination that make the gods believe I have a chance of accomplishing this thing. Without that, we are at a disadvantage.” 

He nodded and she let out a breath. The remembered feel of the weapon on her back made her shudder. It could have ended her life if the man had fired it. Her monster form could protect her better than this human one could.

“You’re right. We’ve got to take our chances with the Fates. There might be a loophole that will help this make sense. That’s the way your tales work. Like Achilles, right? His mom did everything she could to protect him, but he still died in the end. These things have a way of coming true.”

She took his hand, forcing herself to lose the pique of earlier. “You are right. That is another reason they are frightened. Like Achilles and those like him, once a seer has spoken, it is difficult to alter the course. Yet I have no ability to defend myself against a deity as I once did.” 

She waited for the remorse over losing her savage form, but it didn’t come. The pleasure she gained in touching Olivier made the loss of her abilities tolerable.

If someone had told her a week ago that she would have feelings for the gargoyle, Medusa would have dismissed the idea. Olivier was more than a man who admired her, he was someone she respected. This was not going at all like she planned. A man that she didn’t care about she could use, but one that she was falling for was vulnerable.

She shouldn’t indulge this weakness. She had a prophecy to fulfill. Vengeance lay within her grasp. Having an attachment to the gargoyle would only hamper her. In order to do what needed to be done she had to be ruthless, and not be impeded by affairs of the heart.

If the gods knew of her vulnerability, it would be one more weapon to use against her. She had to protect Olivier from the truth by remaining silent.

Even if her soul longed for something different. 

Claire can’t remember a time when writing wasn’t part of her life. Growing up, she used to write stories with her friends. As a teenager she started out reading fantasy and science fiction, but her diet quickly changed to romance and happily-ever-after’s. A native of Massachusetts and cold weather, she left all that behind to move to the sun and fun of California, but has always lived no more than twenty miles from the ocean.

In college she studied acting with a minor in creative writing. In hindsight she should have flipped course studies. Before she was published, she sold books on eBay and discovered some of her favorite authors by sampling the goods, which was the perfect solution. Claire has many book-irons in the fire, most notably her urban fantasy series, The Elementals’ Challenge series, but writes contemporary and shifter romances as well as.

While she’s not a movie mogul or actor, she does work in the film industry with her office firmly situated in the 90210 district of Hollywood. Prone to break out into song, she is quick on feet and just as quick with snappy dialogue. In addition to writing she does animal rescue, reads, and goes to movies. She loves to hear from fans, so feel free to drop her a line.

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