Flash: Athena’s Horse Phase

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“Hey Uncle, how are things?” Hermes asked as he landed on the pebbled beach.

From shore to where the sea disappeared over the edge of the world, flames danced red waiting for the Helios chariot to finish the day’s journey. Poseidon emerged from the shallow waves that had been lapping at his ankles. “Better than some, worse than others. What do you want little trickster?”

“Me, nothing.” He smirked, producing the perfect dimple in his clean-shaven face. “Well, lots of things, you know how *greedy* I am. But that’s not here or there, because Big Daddy sent me.”

Leaning against his trident, Poseidon rolled his eyes. “And what does that storm-god wannabe want now?”

“Just a horse for a few days.” The messenger waved to where the equines played in the incoming tide. “Shouldn’t take long.”

“A horse? Is he throwing a party for the Norse again?”

Hermes snorted, remembering the prank he and his father arranged for his opposite to the north. “Nah. Just wants one for Athena. He dotes on her.”

Poseidon’s thick gray eyebrows crashed together in confusion. “Athena?”

“Oh, right.” After sitting on a rock, Hermes shared how Poseidon’s brother had a killer headache, Hephaestus took an axe to Zeus’ head, and Athena emerged fully formed and in armor. He also relayed, being a solo parent, Zeus had actually stepped up and been taking care of the new goddess. “The Oracle says Athena is going to be entering her horse phase soon and he want to be prepared.”

“She is a goddess, if she is going through an animal phase, she can just transform.”

Hermes shook his head. “She hasn’t got a handle on everything yet, though she is as sharp as a sword and will get it all under control soon. Which is good, because I don’t think Zeus can handle the responsibility much longer.”

“Is she hot?”

“No! Well, yes, but NO.” Hermes facepalmed. “Dude, the girl isn’t even a week old. Yes, she is an adult, and a goddess, but Little Owling is still young.”

“That the best time.”

“Ew, ick. No, no,” The trickster god held up a finger, wagging it firmly. “No, it isn’t.”

“And could you stop me?”

“I won’t need to. Girl has a spear larger than your trident and she will shove it where Helios never shines if you make moves on her.” Hermes dropped his stern tone and switched to begging. “Just a horse for a few days. All children go through a horse phase.” Seeing his uncle getting a contemplating look, Hermes continued. “And don’t shift into one to get her to ride you. Again, spear in unfun places. Let her have this time before the dogs that is our family are released. Just a simple safe horse.”

Poseidon’s lip curled. “My horses are not toys or safe.”

“Athena is a full-grown woman and we up in Olympus who have been dealing with her these past four days are all pretty positive she is going to be a goddess of war, if not THE war god. Yeah, that spear thing … Ares hit on her her first day. He held his own, barely.” Hermes laughed. “She doesn’t need toys or safety, but she will need a horse to ride for a few days. I know, you guys had the suckest of childhoods after Chronos swallowed you. Break your trauma a bit Uncle. Help the next generation be healthier. Her childhood isn’t going to be longer than a fortnight before she becomes whatever it is that she is going to be. Let her have this.”

(words 598 – first published 8/20/2023)

Flash: Long Summer

From Facebook – Hades and Persephone by DonLagarto

(https://www.deviantart.com/donlagarto/art/Hades-and-Persephone-303898804)

A friend reposted this picture on Facebook (from yet another person) and I wrote the following flash in her comments as a response, because Persephone’s face is just so … so.

“You okay, doll,” Hades asked, a concerned expression taking over his face. The flower goddess responds, “Just finished upstairs, it’s been a long, hot summer. Mortals and their climate change. Just hold me a while and let me sleep.”

(words 39, first published 10/4/2023)

Book Review: Circe

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Circe by Madeline Miller

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In the house of Helios, god of the sun and mightiest of the Titans, a daughter is born. But Circe is a strange child — not powerful, like her father, nor viciously alluring like her mother. Turning to the world of mortals for companionship, she discovers that she does possess power — the power of witchcraft, which can transform rivals into monsters and menace the gods themselves.

Threatened, Zeus banishes her to a deserted island, where she hones her occult craft, tames wild beasts and crosses paths with many of the most famous figures in all of mythology, including the Minotaur, Daedalus and his doomed son Icarus, the murderous Medea, and, of course, wily Odysseus.

But there is danger, too, for a woman who stands alone, and Circe unwittingly draws the wrath of both men and gods, ultimately finding herself pitted against one of the most terrifying and vengeful of the Olympians. To protect what she loves most, Circe must summon all her strength and choose, once and for all, whether she belongs with the gods she is born from, or the mortals she has come to love.

With unforgettably vivid characters, mesmerizing language, and page-turning suspense, Circe is a triumph of storytelling, an intoxicating epic of family rivalry, palace intrigue, love and loss, as well as a celebration of indomitable female strength in a man’s world.

 

MY REVIEW

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A coming-of-age story, for someone that takes a thousand years to grow up. While gods might reach adulthood within a few days of being born, they are far from mature. Circe, daughter of Titan and a nymph, is no exception to the rule.

It takes her so looooong to get any agency. That is part coming-of-age, getting and developing agency. And when your family are careless gods who have no bounds, and the child-adult lives in a world where the whim of gods takes agency away from all, cultivating agency can be as helpless as planting seed during hurricane season.

More literary than genre, the book focuses on Circe’s emotional development and back-slides. Lots of mythology is covered from the nature gods to the age of heroes. Beautiful language throughout.

I like to see agency in action, a lot. This story is about developing agency, not using it, so not really my cup of tea. On the other hand, book clubs are great because they make you try new things.

Book Review: Wicked Satyr Nights

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Wicked Satyr Nights by Rebekah Lewis

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Some creatures want to be found.

When Dr. Katerina Silverton travels into the Pine Barrens to make a documentary on the Jersey Devil, she doesn’t believe she will uncover any supernatural evidence. In fact, she only takes the job because it promises funding for future projects. So it is quite a shock to Kat when she finds herself face-to-face with the legendary beast she was sent into the forest to capture on film.

In ancient Greece, the god Pan made a terrible mistake which resulted in the creation of the Satyroi: a race of immortal satyrs. Centuries later, he lives secluded in the Pine Barrens, frightening mortals by taking the guise of an abhorrent local monster. When a beautiful woman shows up in his forest looking for proof of his existence, Pan can’t resist revealing himself to her.

Outside forces may be manipulating them both, pushing them together for nefarious reasons. Kat must decide if she could learn to love a satyr or if his appearance is more than she can handle. Can she resist Pan’s wicked nature, or will she give into the temptations beyond her wildest fantasies?

 

MY REVIEW

First off, I did a lot of growing up in New Jersey and camping in the Pine Barrens. I am well familiar with the Jersey Devil story and Ms. Lewis does justice to the folklore.

And combining it with Pan and Satyrs is pure awesome-sauce. Wow, the dovetail of the mythology with the folklore is great. Awesome, awesome worldbuilding.

Story only gets 4.5 stars because of some character inconsistencies early in the book. The longer the story goes, the stronger the characters and the conspiracy gets. In the first couple of chapters, some of the character descriptions are noticeably repeated and should have been removed or reduced by a line editor. (May have been fixed in later editions. The author self-published the book after getting her rights back.)

But as the story goes on, as mentioned, the characters get better. Everyone is far from one-dimensional and has multiple motivations. Kat, the main female protagonist, is awesome, both girly enough to want to shave her legs and butch enough to walk off a cougar taking a chunk out of one. She wants money to do research but realizes earning the money may mean no one will take her research seriously. Pan alternates between making good quick decisions and poor ones; thinking on one’s feet (or hooves) does not make every decision work. Every character has deep flaws worthy of a Greek tragedy waiting to happen, or one that already has. 

No one is truly an angel in the story, nor is the villain a complete devil. Dion faces a situation where his parents and family moved without giving him the forwarding address; his reaction is poor, but a person can understand how screwed up you would be if all your brothers, sisters, and parents just cut you off without explanation.

Don’t know if Ms. Lewis can keep this level of characters and worldbuilding going for the rest of the series, but book one worth the read if you like paranormal romance.

Flash: Dorian and the Ice Queen

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Rating: Mature

That ass, damn girl. Dorian didn’t mind the cold or wait at all as the female bent over once again, rearranging the unlit lanterns just so in the snow. Maybe he shouldn’t be admiring her, or maybe because she was a supervillain, objectifying her isn’t as immoral as, say, Jameeka in Human Resources. Either way the Ice Queen had one of the finest asses in the state. Perfect heart shape.

He had been a little disappointed when he first arrived to find she wasn’t wearing the impractical catsuit and high heels costume. But the tight white skiing pants, turtleneck sweater, quilted jacket, and fur-lined cap made a fine substitute, at least according his libido. Especially when she bent over, and she had been bending over a lot in the last half an hour. A couple of steps in one direction in the snow in knee-high boots, adjusting something, sometimes burying something, sometimes removing debris, and then she would be moving again. She had said to arrive around midnight, more or less, but not to bother if he was later than one. And not to bother her if she was already there.

Guess she figured I would scope out the area. It’s not like they trusted each other – villain to hero. But that didn’t make the lust go away. She bent forward again and he bit his tongue to keep from moaning. He imagined grabbing that fine white Ice Queen ass, the soft moon-pale flesh slightly red on either cheek after his broad hands had warmed them up with a couple of smacks for being bad. The woman was always bad. Maybe even handcuffs, if he had them. Then she look over her shoulder, her ash-blonde hair in a failing braid like it is now, wisps and stray tresses framing her ice-blue eyes, and say…

 “I’m ready for you now.”

 Her voice soft and husky from effort.

 “Hey Revenger, alley-alley-alley-out.” The Ice Queen stood brushing the snow off her white leather gloves, clapping them. “You can come now.”

 Come, she said come…not…cum. Dorian shook his head to clear out the last of the fantasy. He nearly missed the snow falling from the gloves, hover in the moonlight, take on the sparkle of new snow, and fly in a dozen directions. Before he had dropped from the tree where he was hiding, every step, footprint, handprint, and symbol she had made was erased.

 So much for his theory, based on the lack of snow tracks when he had initially arrived, that she had flown in. He was positive she was a flyer, but no one had ever recorded it. The agency records were woefully blank on her abilities, as they are on any unregistered hero or uncaptured villain, some temperature control at the cold end of the spectrum, possible telekinesis abilities, and, unproven, magic. Magic itself being unproven. So far everyone had tested psychic, technological, or natural mutant.

 Her file was nearly as slim on suspected crimes. He had written most of the entries himself and none of them had enough evidence for a legal arrest warrant, let alone a court conviction. Plenty of photos thanks to her saving his bacon when King Khaos attacked the museum, but no real information. Street thugs were silent about her.

 (words 545; first published 8/18/19)