Book Blitz & Excerpt: Amethyst + Giveaway

Amethyst by Rebecca Henry

Book 1 in the Ambrosia Hill series

General Release Date: 26th April 2022

Word Count: 31,456
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL
Pages: 117

Genres:

GLBTQI
LESBIAN
PARANORMAL
ROMANCE
YOUNG ADULT

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Book Description

She was sent away because of her feelings for another girl. But what she discovered at her aunts’ lake house was a birthright of magic.

Thirteen-year-old Zinnia is about to turn fourteen when her life is flipped upside down. With her parents on the brink of a divorce, Zinnia is sent to spend the summer with her eccentric great-aunts at their lake house away from her home in Manhattan. Zinnia arrives at her aunts’ massive Victorian house with a heavy heart after a recent falling out with her best friend Charlotte, who betrayed her trust by showing the meanest and most popular girl in school a letter Zinnia wrote confessing her feelings for Charlotte. The aunts rely on practical magic, acceptance and old family friends to help heal their great-niece in more ways than one.

What Zinnia discovers on Ambrosia Hill is more than just her birthright to magic—she meets Billie, a girl who conjures feelings inside Zinnia that she can no longer deny.

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of homophobia and mild peril.

Excerpt

“It’s just for the summer.” That’s what my parents told me as I boarded the train to spend three months in the countryside with my great-aunts. The city skyline faded into the distance, replaced by rolling hills that climbed high into the horizon. The gentle rocking of the train lulled me into a trance. Three months in an old house, on top of a tall hill overlooking a silent lake in a sleepy village with nothing to do, was enough to make me lose my mind.

“Great,” I said out loud to myself, my thoughts turning to the city that I was leaving behind. There was always something to do in Manhattan, whether it was going out to eat, going to a skateboard park, catching a movie or going to the mall. By the time the conductor announced Ambrosia Hill, I was the only passenger left. Me, myself, and I, all alone, a ticket for one to the last stop on the line.

I peeked out of the window and saw the glistening ripples of Lake Cauldron. The black turrets of a tall Victorian-style house touched the clouds like a church steeple in an empty town. I could almost see both my aunts sitting on the porch overlooking their enormous garden, drinking freshly squeezed lemonade with their long black dresses, wide-brimmed hats and crimson boots. As the train rolled to a stop, I grabbed my suitcase then left the car. The station was quiet and empty, much like my plans for the summer. I swung my bag over my shoulder and rolled my suitcase to the parking lot.

I took a moment to remind myself that this was just for the summer. My old life would still be waiting for me in September with the same boring school, the same bullying kids and the same depressing apartment with my parents still on the verge of a divorce…but it was my life, and I resented being sent away from it. I brushed my long hair out of my face, wishing I could grow up by September, skip high school and be off to college, or go backward in life to when things were happier and be a little kid again. Anything would be better than being thirteen in the twenty-first century.

Charlie was waiting by his old pickup truck. The rusted hubcaps were a deeper shade of orange than the last time he had met me at the station, and I thought a headlight might be out, but overall, the car seemed functional enough. Charlie flashed me a big, fatherly smile. The wrinkles around his eyes traveled down the sides of his face, and for a moment I couldn’t believe how time had caught up to him since my last visit. “Well, look at you, Zinnia! You’ve shot up like a string bean.”

Charlie reached straight for my suitcase and threw it into the truck. His hearty laugh filled the cabin as we both buckled in. “I almost didn’t recognize you there with how you’ve grown.” I looked down at my cramped legs, desperate to stretch out as my knees touched the glove compartment. Charlie patted my back and turned the key inside the ignition, bringing life to the beat-up truck as the engine groaned like an old dog too tired to wake from its nap. “Here we go, String Bean! Off like a herd of turtles at the races.”

I cracked a smile at this, almost by accident, before wiping it away and looking out of the window. I could admit that I liked Ole Charlie. He’d been neighbors with my aunts for over forty years, and I’d known him all my life, so I thought it was safe to say that he was basically family. “Wait till your aunts get a look at you, string bean.”

I rolled my eyes as I tried, and once again failed, to conceal my smile. Every time I visited my aunts, Ole Charlie gave me a new nickname. I suppose my nickname for this summer is going to be string bean. I whispered it to myself for a test drive and annoyingly, it wasn’t so annoying.

“It’s been a few years since you and your mom visited us on Ambrosia Hill.” Charlie looked over at me with his old brown eyes full of affection. “Not ashamed to say we’ve missed you, string bean.”

Mom loved coming to Ambrosia Hill. The aunts had raised her after my grandma became sick and couldn’t take care of my mom anymore. Mom said visiting with Grandma during that time was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do, and it was a sad relief for everyone when Grandma passed away. That was the day Mom packed up a suitcase and moved to the city, where she eventually met my dad and had me. But she never forgot where she came from, and every summer she and I would come up by train to Ambrosia Hill and visit our aunts. At least until my parents started fighting.

I was nine years old when they had their first big fight and I remembered hiding under the kitchen table hugging the wooden leg, hoping that if I stayed hidden, it wouldn’t be real, and everything would go back to the way it was. But that didn’t happen, and the fighting only got worse. Mom was too ashamed to visit the aunts after that. With her marriage on the brink of divorce, she felt like a failure. She’d left home to chase her big-city dreams on Broadway, and instead of achieving that dream, she had gotten a reputable job, one where she could achieve success. But even if she didn’t live her exact dream, at least she was in the city, married and a mother. She’d had a good life before all the fighting began.

I rolled my window down and stuck my head out as we began the long slope up Ambrosia Hill. The village was named after the hill and apparently my aunts’ house was one of the first settlements on Lake Cauldron. Most people with lake houses invested in updating their homes into fancy summer getaways from the city. But not my aunts. They’d lived in their house for the majority of their lives, and they refused to change even a single detail, including their old purple porch.

My great-aunts loved purple and black, from the violet-painted siding to the ebony trimming along every window and doorframe. Even their garden was filled with purple and black flowers mixed amongst the green foliage. The house was the same on the inside, with rich black wood furnishing and purple wallpaper. My room was in the attic when I came to visit and it was a fairytale room hidden from the rest of the massive house. When I was a little girl, we’d painted the ceiling a deep indigo with pale crescent moons and diamond-shaped stars. The walls were papered in pale pink with blue roses. Pink and champagne ceiling lights hung across the attic and warm fairy lights covered every square inch of the room. An old-fashioned canopy bed with four black posts sat in the center.

Growing up, I used to pretend that I was a princess locked in a tower waiting for my one true love to rescue me. But what I didn’t admit to anyone, at least not then, was that I never wanted to be rescued by a prince. I wanted someone else, something different from what the other girls my age wanted in life, and the typical happy ending didn’t feel right to me. Fairy tales screw kids up. It wasn’t who I wanted to rescue me that was the issue—it was the fact I thought I needed to be rescued by anyone. My parents were desperate to understand what I wanted, and when they couldn’t, they started insisting that it was simply a phase, and that I’d grow out of it once I met the right boy. Truthfully, I don’t think they even had the time to worry about me. They were far too busy arguing with each other.

Still, my dad was persistent that time away with my aunts would clear my head and eventually I’d forget all about the girl from my class. The girl with the red hair and freckles who had stabbed me in the back. The girl who had been yanked out of St. Hope and enrolled into another school the second her parents discovered the letter I had written to her. A letter that had gone around my entire middle school and had labeled me forever. It had hurt at first, knowing that kids in school slapped me with a label like I was different from them. I wasn’t different—I was just me and I deserved to be myself like everybody else in the world. I wouldn’t allow some meddling bullies to affect me. I would not let them win by showing them how they’d hurt me.

As the truck stopped outside the garden gate, Aunt Stella and Aunt Luna jumped up from their rickety porch chairs and ran down the driveway to greet me. Aunt Luna was carrying a black kitten in her arms, and Aunt Stella was holding on to the top of her wide-brimmed hat, which shielded her eyes from the glaring sun. Almost unconsciously, I ran to meet them, flying into their arms. The tears that I had been holding back rushed out of me like a waterfall. They burned my flushed face as I clung to my aunts. They comforted and cuddled me like momma birds.

“It’s all right now, my darling girl. You’re with us. No one will hurt you.” I looked into Aunt Stella’s loving eyes. There with them on Ambrosia Hill, I could be me. I didn’t have to wear a mask or pretend to be strong—I could allow my tears to flow freely.

“You are our little love and always will be.” Aunt Luna cupped my face in her chubby hand, and I reached for her like a child hugging a teddy bear.

“Come now. I know exactly what you need,” piped up Aunt Stella.

“Yes, yes, yes!” clucked Aunt Luna as she handed me the black kitten. “A glass of chocolate almond milk with a chocolate chip cookie is just the thing for this occasion.” Both aunts turned on their heels and shuffled back to the house.

“Come along, dear!” called Aunt Stella. I turned and waved goodbye to Ole Charlie, who tipped his cap at me with a wink before getting back in his truck and driving away.

The purple and black walls swelled when I walked inside the dark house, then surrounded me like a giant hug and for a moment, it felt like the house was alive and greeting me with love. Nothing had changed in the three years since I had last visited. Black candles sat inside tall iron holders. Old dusty books decorated the built-in bookshelves along the far wall. Dried herbs hung from every rafter and exposed beam. Inside the large wood-burning fireplace were towers of quartz crystals. Branches of eucalyptus draped around the mantel, trailing to the floor. Wicker baskets littered the house, filled with yarn, empty glass jars and pouches of dried herbs.

I inhaled, breathing in the scent of my summer home, my other life…a part of me I had almost forgotten existed. Suddenly, I was overcome with the realization I had forgotten my true self. Standing amongst my aunts’ collection of tarot cards, pentagrams and spell books, I remembered the inner strength I had inside me. There is another identity to the Fern women, an identity my mother tried to hide from the world. Only in Ambrosia Hill were we free to be who we truly were—a lineage of magical women.

My aunts scurried back from the kitchen with Aunt Luna carrying a tray of homemade cookies and three glasses of chocolate almond milk. Aunt Stella caught me eyeballing the clutter surrounding me and placed a hand upon her hip.

“Darling girl, a clean house is a sign of a misspent life.” She raised her eyebrows to support her statement.

“Come along, dear. We have something important to do,” Aunt Luna said as she skipped past me, stopping to kiss the kitten, which was, by then, curled up like a baby in the crook of my arm.

“You won’t want to miss it, dear!” added in Aunt Stella as she raced up behind me, shoving me back out the front door and onto the porch. A tote bag was draped over her shoulder.

The aunts placed the tote bag and tray of treats onto the porch table as they chirped back and forth to one another in playful banter. “She forgot what day it is! Why, this used to be her favorite day of the summer. Apart from her birthday, that is.” Aunt Luna laughed.

Aunt Stella nodded, positioning a stack of card paper neatly on the table. “She’s been inhaling too much smog in that city. The fresh air will do her lungs some good, she’ll remember any moment now,” she replied. Her heeled boot tapped against the weathered wood floor. I sat down between them, setting the kitten on the table next to a vase of purple orchids and some black candles.

“What am I supposed to be remembering?” I could feel the creases in my forehead grow deeper as I desperately tried to recall what special day it was. My aunts both looked at me with their eyebrows raised gesturing at the random items scattered on the table in front of them. I shrugged in apology, still not grasping the significance of the day.

“It’s the summer solstice!” they sang in union.

I turned my wrist up and caught the date on my smartwatch. “Oh, my gosh, it’s June twenty-first.”

Coming from a historical line of green witches, the summer solstice had always been a significant day with an important purpose for the Fern women. Every June twenty-first, my aunts wrote about the things they wanted to let go of in their lives, things that no longer served a purpose. After they wrote their messages in gold ink, they folded the paper into a tiny boat and placed a tealight inside it. When the crescent moon appeared in the night sky, they lit the candle and released the boats into Lake Cauldron. It was a symbol of new beginnings and a chance for positive self-growth. I shook my head, amazed that I had forgotten about the summer solstice.

Both my great aunts had lived their entire lives as green witches, just as their mother and her mother before her had done, going back three hundred years. My aunts had educated me at an early age on how to be a green witch. The very essence of a green witch was to be a naturalist, someone who connected with nature on a personal and powerful level. Green witches were wise women, herbalists and healers who helped those around them by using the properties of nature. We may never use magic to harm others or for personal gain. I was a green witch by birth rite, and fourteen was a significant year for a teenage witch. I hadn’t identified as a practicing witch before. I’d never cast spells on my own. Any spells I had done were guided by my aunts. However, at fourteen, Fern witches developed individual traits and branched out into our own magic. I could feel a change coming. One that would redirect my path forever.

“Ha! She remembers! I told you she would. You worry too much, that’s your problem, Luna.”

Aunt Luna placed her hands on her round hips with her head cocked defiantly to the side. “I do not. You’re the one who worries.”

Aunt Stella waved her hand in the air. “Pish-posh. I am as calm as a cucumber, but you could worry the horns off a billy goat.”

I giggled, breaking up their banter. I reached for the gold pen and a piece of black cardstock. I stared at the paper, unable to find the words I needed to write. I could feel them stirring inside me and I could see them take form in the shape of her face.

Aunt Luna reached for my hand, understanding my internal struggle. Aunt Luna was the maternal one of the two sisters. She lived to nurture those around her, and her maternal instincts were fierce when it came to me. Although Aunt Stella was stern, she had an intense love that ran deeper than any river marked on a map, and I could feel that love surrounding me as I stared at the pen in my hand. It baffled me why neither she nor Aunt Luna ever had children of their own. I made a mental note to ask them someday.

“Draw, dear,” whispered Aunt Luna. “A picture can be just as powerful as words. If your artistic expression helps you, then draw whatever you need to let go of.”

Before I could respond, my hand moved involuntarily, sketching the outline of her face. Of all their faces, everyone who had hurt me.

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About the Author

Rebecca Henry

Rebecca Henry is an American author living abroad in England. She is a devoted vegan who gardens, practices yoga, crafts, travels the world, and bakes. Rebecca’s favorite holiday is Halloween, and she is obsessed with anything and everything witchy! Besides writing fiction, Rebecca is also the author of her vegan holiday cookbook collection. Her love for animals, baking with her family, having a plant-based diet and cruelty-free food all came together in her holiday cookbook collection.

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April 22, 2022

Book Blitz & Excerpt: The Last Beekeeper + Giveaway

The Last Beekeeper
by Rebecca L. Fearnley
Publication date: April 20th 2022
Genres: Adult, Dystopian, Fantasy, Young Adult

Solma is a fighter. Trained by her village Steward to protect their community from the predators of their harsh world, she is fierce and loyal. But how can she protect her friends and family from crop failure and starvation? With flying insects extinct for over a century, nowhere on the forsaken continent of Alphor is safe and Solma is terrified her little brother, Warren, will be one of the next to die. The villagers cling to life, waiting for the Earth Whisperers—mysterious nomads with a strange magic that helps plants grow—to arrive.

But then Warren finds something. Something impossible. When the first bee in a hundred years crawls out of the earth, Warren forms a strange bond with the creature and Solma fears he might have a new power. One that leaders of Alphor would kill for. As she and Warren fight to keep the bee secret and safe, word of this miracle sweeps the continent. Allies and enemies alike descend on the village. Some demand the bees for themselves, others want to destroy the colony to level the odds. When words become threats and then violence, Solma and Warren are caught in the conflict, and now it isn’t just the bees in danger.

When whoever controls the bees controls the world, how will Solma and Warren know who to trust?

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Kobo

EXCERPT:

The insect—for it can only be an insect—wanders groggily over the mound, seems to contemplate her fingertips for a moment and then clambers aboard.

Its feet are so light, she can barely feel them. She holds the creature up to her face, frowning as it waggles its antennae. Its gold-and-black striped body gleams in the sun, fuzzy to the point of ridiculous, with delicate gossamer wings and antennae that twitch curiously. Solma stares.

“What is it, d’you think?”

It isn’t a beetle. Solma knows that much. Warren’s pulling at her fingertips, straining to see. Solma suppresses a smile and holds the creature out so he can get a better look. Warren’s eyes widen.

“That’s a bee!” he whispers. Solma scoffs.

“No it isn’t,” she laughs, ruffling his hair. “It can’t be, can it? There ain’t no more bees.”

No one has seen one in over a century. This can’t possibly be a bee.

Still. What’s the harm in letting her brother hope?

She watches it wriggling on her finger. She can feel it now if she concentrates. The lightest brush of life against her skin. It buzzes its wings half-heartedly and Warren grins with delight. Solma can’t help grinning, too. It’s been such a long time since she’s seen him smile.

“Why don’t it fly away?” Warren asks. “You think it’s sick?”

Solma gently cups her other hand over the insect and draws it close to her chest. Could it be sick? The thought makes her sick, too. The summer skies have been empty of flying things for such a long time that suddenly she can’t bear the thought of this one falling ill. It buzzes against her again, shuffling down her finger and into her palm, as if accepting the safety she’s offering. Its little body thrums, begging protection.

“Maybe it is sick,” Solma concedes, then balks at the stricken look on Warren’s face. “We’ll save it,” she says without thinking.

It’s a daft thought. She doubts they can save it. If it really is a bee, it’s the only one she’s ever seen. Where can it possibly have come from?

Author Bio:

Rebecca has been obsessed with two things since she learned to walk and talk: stories and animals. Luckily, the two seem to be very compatible. Rebecca writes stories set in strange worlds filled with bizarre creatures, strong female characters and magical powers. She started her writing career as a poet, performing all over the country and publishing her first collection, Octopus Medicine, with Two Rivers Press in 2017.

In addition to writing, Rebecca is also a teacher and, in 2018, decided that she wanted to write quality books for the young people she works with. Her books tend towards themes of respect for the environment, protecting the planet and the new generations challenging the old to face up to their mistakes.

She lives in Reading, UK, with her unusual family, which includes herself and her partner, a friendly little mini-lop rabbit (called Cleo) and a gregarious and feisty quaker parrot (called Maya).

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / Pinterest

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April 22, 2022April 22, 2022

Book Blitz & Excerpt: Guardians of the Sea, by Eva Pohler

Title: Guardians of the Sea
Author: Eva Pohler
Genre: YA Urban Fantasy
Publication Date: May 14^th, 2022
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR

Blurb:

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

After enduring Delphine’s dangerous training regimen, the young gods and demigods embark on a mission to take down the corrupt shipping company once and for all, to liberate victimized communities up and down the Mediterranean and nearby seas. But unforeseen conflicts cause the young gods and demigods to question the nature of their mission, their purpose, and their relationships with one another.

In the face of impossible choices, how important are love, loyalty, and friendship? Moreover, how far should one go to defend those who can’t defend themselves? Should one sacrifice everything?

Read the surprising conclusion of The Vampires and Gods Series. For lovers of Greek mythology, paranormal romance, and action adventure stories.

Here’s what readers are saying about this series:

“Vampires and Greek Mythology combined in one fabulous adventure!”–Brie Strauss, Amazon Reviewer ★★★★★

“I absolutely cannot wait for more Adventures. I tried not to read so fast but honestly I couldn’t be patient. This book blew me away and I honestly just need more.”–Southernmermaid85, Amazon Reviewer ★★★★★

“Must read!! Anything this author writes is amazing to read. It’s what got me into loving anything about the greek gods! And her vampire series is so interesting as well! This book combines both and draws you in!!”–Amazon Reviewer ★★★★★

“Everything I’ve come to love and expect from Eva’s book, was to be found in this latest episode, constant drama, intrigue and adventure, not forgetting the romance. Can’t wait for more!”–Traceyann, Amazon Reviewer ★★★★★

“I really liked the new characters that were introduced in this book. The story was interesting and had a lot of twists and turns.”–Kathy E, Amazon Reviewer ★★★★★

If you like enemies-to-lovers romance and heart-breaking love triangles combined with fast-paced, high-stakes action, then this series is for you.

NOW AVAILABLE FOR PRE-ORDER!

Eva Pohler is a USA Today bestselling author of over thirty novels in multiple genres, including mysteries, thrillers, and young adult paranormal romance based on Greek mythology. Her books have been described as “addictive” and “sure to thrill”–Kirkus Reviews.

Author Links:

NOW AVAILABLE FOR PRE-ORDER!

Chapter One: Mount
Olympus

Gertie stood in the foyer of the great hall on Mount Olympus, waiting for Hector to finish his tour with Hephaestus. Hector had invited her to join him to see the magical forge, but she’d wanted him to have this chance to be alone with his father. She hadn’t thought about her own comfort—or lack of it as she stood there with the Olympians on their thrones only a few yards away. Although she’d earned their respect in the battle with the old man of the sea and his entourage of monsters and was about to become a goddess herself, she didn’t dare presume that she was free to speak with them.

She pushed a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear and glanced nervously at the gods before averting her eyes to her boots. Her stomach hurt, and her heart wouldn’t slow down no matter how deeply she breathed. An eternity seemed to pass when Hector finally emerged with his father.

Just seeing Hector’s face again made her less nervous. Although people often mistook them for brother and sister because they both had blond hair, blue eyes, and fair skin, fortunately for them, they weren’t, even though they were both descended from gods.

“Are you ready for the council meeting?” Hephaestus asked her.

Gertie took a deep breath. “I think so.”

“Of course, she is,” Hector said. “She hasn’t stopped talking about it for days. Have you, Gertie?”

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Hephaestus asked again.

“Yes,” she said, this time without hesitation. “I’m just a little nervous about how it will feel and how I’ll adapt. There isn’t much written about apotheosis. I feel unprepared.”

Hephaestus laughed. “Preparation has its virtues, but surprises make life exciting.”

“I like that.” Hector beamed up at his dad.

Gertie would rather be prepared.

“Good luck,” Hephaestus said as he turned to walk away.

“Thanks again for showing me around, Father,” Hector said.
“I hope I’ll have the chance to see you again soon.”

The god gave Hector a polite, if not distant, nod before taking a few strides to his throne, next to Apollo and across the white marble floor from Aphrodite.

“How did it go?” Gertie whispered to Hector, who hadn’t stopped smiling since he’d emerged from the forge.

“I’ve never felt happier,” he said, his blue eyes bright.
“My father has finally acknowledged me publicly and has given me more than a
moment of his time. It’s a dream come true.”

“Oh, Hector.” Gertie squeezed his hand. “I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks. Being here has made it easy for me to make a decision.”

Gertie tilted her head to one side. “What decision?”

“I want to be a god, and I’m ready to do whatever it takes to prove I’m worthy.”

Gertie’s mouth dropped open, and she felt like jumping up and down with joy. “What?”

“I know . . . I was against it before. I wanted a normal life, so I could give my kids a better childhood than the one I had. Now I know things don’t have to be the way they were with my mom—alienated from my father and from the other gods.” He circled his arm around Gertie’s waist. “We can be a part of this life here on Mount Olympus. We can be gods together.”

Gertie thew her arms around him. “Really?”

“Really.” He reached down and kissed her.

As much as Gertie enjoyed the kiss, she soon came to her senses and noticed that some of the Olympians were watching her. “I’ll make my acceptance conditional. If they want me to become the goddess of vampires, they’ll have to make you a god, too.”

Hector furrowed his brows. “What if they refuse?”

“They won’t, especially if your father speaks up for you.”

He kissed her once more, and, together, they made their way to his father’s side, to await the others.

Hermie scratched his head and gave Delphine a once-over on the front deck of the Marcella II beneath the predawn stars. Del had just returned from a night of shopping in Paris with his sister Hestie and best friend Jinsoo, along with most of the vampires. Hermie had just returned to the ship, too, after helping with a blackout at a power plant in Dubai. Before that, he’d helped a group of college students in Kentucky retrieve their lost project from a computer that had crashed. As the god of technology, he made IT runs rather frequently and enjoyed them much more than being out on the sea. But he endured the sea life because he wanted to be close to Del.

Del was wearing a short dress and boots—looking simultaneously sweet and bad-ass. Her long, dark, curly hair fell past her shoulders, blowing in the gentle wind. Her dark eyes and dark skin shone in the waning moonlight.

Hermie was pleased when she greeted him with a kiss as she combed her fingers through his short black hair.

“Welcome back,” he said. “You look great.”

“Thanks. I bought some new threads for you, too.” She handed him one of her bags.

Hermie tried to hide his annoyance as he looked inside the bag. He was particular about his clothes and didn’t like others picking them out. He’d fought his sister Hestie and his mother on that front for most of his life. But when he turned the soft cotton over in his hand, he was pleasantly surprised. She’d bought him a t-shirt? He lifted the light blue shirt from the bag and read the front of it: I paused my game to be here.

“You like it?” she asked. “The color matches your eyes.”

“I do,” he said, and he meant it. “Thanks.”

“Check it out.” Jinsoo walked across the deck in his new clothes—a tight-fitting gray shirt and skinny black jeans and boots. “Do I look good enough for Mount Olympus?”

Alastair laughed. The sandy-haired vampire was wearing a long-sleeved, button-down shirt unbuttoned over a white V-neck and loose-fitting jeans cinched at his hips with a thick leather belt. “If the gods are grading you on sex appeal, you got this, boyfriend.”

Jinsoo smiled as Chidori landed on his shoulder. “Do you agree?”

The yellow canary tweeted her praise.

“Where’s Poros?” Hestie asked as she brushed her red curly hair from her eyes.

Hermie glanced at the upper deck. “Isn’t he on the flybridge with Captain?”

“No one is on the flybridge,” Alastair pointed out.

The swooshing sound of wings overhead made everyone turn their eyes up to the sky. It was Pegasus hovering above the ship with Poros and Prometheus astride him.

“We’re late,” the captain said as he pulled his white captain’s hat more firmly over his black curly hair. “Come on.”

Hestie flew up and mounted the white horse behind Poros. To Hermie, she said, “Sorry. No more room.”

Prometheus turned to the vampires. “I trust you’ll keep an eye on the ship?”

“We will have to do it from below deck.” Del pointed to the hint of dawn just beyond the mountains to the east.

Alastair gave an informal salute that ended with a snap of his fingers. “We will reach out to you if we sense anything wrong.”

“Thanks.” Prometheus tipped his white captain’s hat.

“See ya,” Hermie said to Del just before he kissed her cheek.

“See ya,” she said with a smile.

Jinsoo winked at Alastair and then joined Hermie in the air beside Pegasus.

To Jinsoo, Hermie said, “Mount Olympus, here we come.”

Hestie wrapped her arms around Poros and leaned against his back as Pegasus soared over the Mediterranean Sea.

“Miss me?” she whispered into Poros’s ear as his blond hair tickled her lips.

Poros glanced back at her with a grin, his gray eyes sparkling in the moonlight. “Cute outfit.”

She wore very short shorts with a white tank. But the tank was no ordinary tank. The straps were embellished with layers of gathered fabric making thick, soft ruffles that she found divine. One of the perks of being a goddess unaffected by changing temperatures was that one could continue to wear summer fashions well into fall.

“Thanks. You should see what I bought for you.”

She felt him chuckle against her. He wouldn’t fight her, like Hermie did, when it came to her fashion choices for him, and she loved him for it.

The sun god Helios appeared in his golden cup on the horizon just as they reached Mount Olympus. The gates parted, and the young gods waited near the fountain while Prometheus took Pegasus to the stables. Then, together, they flew up the rainbow steps and into the temple, where the other gods were waiting.

Hestie followed Poros and Prometheus into the middle of the great hall, where the Olympians were already seated on their thrones. Aphrodite and Artemis gave the young gods a smile and a wave as they walked past, as did the three Charities sitting around Aphrodite. Hestie waved back. One of the Charities—Pasithia—dropped her handkerchief at Poros’s feet. When he picked it up and handed it back to her, she smiled up at him with a flirtatious gleam in her eyes that Hestie found irritating. What was even more irritating was the blush that crossed Poros’s face. Should Hestie be worried?

Across the room, the Muses softly hummed a melody behind Apollo. Between Apollo and Hephaestus stood the demigods Gertie and Hector. Hestie gave them each a smile.

Hestie’s mom and grandparents—Hades and Persephone—were also there. Her grandparents were seated on the double throne between Artemis and Hestia, where Demeter usually sat. Demeter was probably at her winter cabin with Hecate, since it was late October, the time of year when Persephone lived in the Underworld, and Demeter moped.

Hestie’s mother flew to greet her and her brother. It had only been a few days since they last saw her, but their meetings were usually few and far between.

“You’ve been shopping,” her mother said with a smile and a hug. “You look good.”

“Thanks,” Hestie said. “Did you cut your hair again?”

The last time Hestie had seen her mother, whose hair was red and curly like hers, it had reached her shoulders. But today, it was cut in a bob just below her ears.

“It kept getting in my way.”

“It’s cute,” Hestie said, wondering if she should do the same with her hair.

“I wish Dad could be here, too,” Hermie said as he hugged their mom.

“Not while there are mortals,” their mother replied. “You know the drill.”

Hestie sighed. It wasn’t always convenient when your father was the god of death.

Persephone waved at them. “Come stand over here with us.”

As Prometheus followed the young gods to linger near the double throne shared by Hades and Persephone, Hestie noticed Athena watching him. But Prometheus seemed to make a point of not returning her gaze. He was still upset with her for the vampire Taavi’s death and for putting the rest of his crew in danger.

Poros seemed to notice, too. He squeezed Hestie’s hand before leaving her side to say hello to his sister.

“Sit here beside me,” Athena said to him, offering him what was once Hera’s place on their father’s double throne. It was made of gold and was adorned with an eagle and three peacocks.

“I’d rather stand with Hestie,” he said. “If you don’t mind.”

Hestie felt bad for worrying about Pasithia’s flirtations. Poros had never given Hestie any reason to doubt his feelings for her. She needed to snap out of it.

Athena, whose long, straight, black hair set off her striking gray eyes—eyes that looked exactly like Poros’s—frowned at Hestie.
“Not at all.”

Ares scoffed as Poros left Athena. What was his problem? At least Hermes had a smile and a wink for her. That put Hestie at ease again. Poseidon, sitting between Hermes and Apollo, made no attempt at eye contact, and Apollo was busy talking to Hephaestus.

Hestie could tell that Gertie was busting at the seams, anxious to join the ranks of the immortals. She wondered if Gertie would be just as annoying as a goddess, or if she’d settle down, no longer compelled to show off her book knowledge.

Athena stood up and cleared her throat. The muses stopped humming.

The goddess of wisdom began: “Thank you all for coming to this historic moment on Mount Olympus. The young god Jinsoo will declare his purpose, and the demigod Gertie, who has valiantly proven her mettle, will become one of us. These two events will require the consent of our majority. Once these rituals have ended, we will turn our attention to deciding what to do about Sailfish Trading and Shipping.”

Hestie glanced at Jinsoo and then across the room at Gertie. They were equally pale and jittery.

“Jinsoo Huang, please come forward,” Athena said.

Jinsoo left Prometheus’s side to stand before Athena, in the center of the circle of thrones. To Hestie, he looked small, even as a god, probably because he was only fifteen when he underwent apotheosis.

“Have you found your purpose?” Athena asked him.

“Yes, goddess.”

“And?”

Jinsoo swallowed hard and combed his short black hair from his eyes. “I will be the god of sailors.”

Athena turned to the god of the sea. “And this doesn’t encroach upon your realm?”

“There may be some overlap,” Poseidon grumbled. “But, given my part in recent tragic events, I’m determined to accept it.”

“Poseidon controls the sea, of course,” Jinsoo added. “And all the things living in it. He controls the sailing vessels.”

“He doesn’t control all of the vessels,” Hermes interjected.
“Shipping crafts are my domain, as are pirates.”

“Not entirely,” Poseidon argued.

“Brother, uncle, please,” Athena said. “This argument has plagued us for centuries, and I doubt it will be settled today. Let us agree that Jinsoo will be the primary caretaker of sailors.”

“Hear, hear,” Hades said.

“All in favor, say aye,” Athena said.

The great hall resounded with the gods’ assent.

“All opposed?” Athena asked.

The hall was silent.

Jinsoo bowed to the other gods as applause erupted. Then, smiling, he returned to Prometheus’s side. Hestie couldn’t be happier for him. She only wished Alastair could have been here to see it. Even now, after all the vampires had done to help the gods and humanity, they still weren’t welcome on Mount Olympus.

Once the hall had become silent again, Athena said, “Gertrude Morgan, please step forward.”

Gertie glanced nervously at Hector before she released his hand and moved to the center of the hall. Hestie supposed that the two demigods were back together. She wondered if Gertie still thought about Taavi, or if she had blotted him from her mind.

Athena smiled at Gertie as she said, “We have asked you here today to join us as the goddess of vampires, who have for too long been underserved by this pantheon. I can admit my own contribution to their mistreatment and neglect. But that is to be no longer.”

“I’m so happy to hear you say that,” Gertie said.

“And your father, Dionysus, has no qualms with this decision?” Hermes asked.

Gertie shook her head. “He’s given me his blessing.”

“And you have given this proper thought and reflection?”
Athena asked her. “Once you accept this yolk, it cannot be thrown off, lest you
go insane.”

Hestie noticed Gertie’s lips were trembling. “Insane? Well, I would never walk away from my responsibilities. I want this. I’m sure of it.”

“Well, then,” Athena began.

“But I do have one condition,” Gertie said earnestly as she looked around the room. “I will only serve this pantheon as the goddess of vampires if Hector, a great warrior and the son of Hephaestus, is allowed to undergo apotheosis, too.”

Gasps filled the room, and all eyes turned to Hector, who stood white-faced and gaping. Hestie couldn’t believe Gertie was making conditions. Was she crazy?

“I don’t appreciate demands, Gertrude,” Athena said sharply.

“But Hector would make an amazing god,” Gertie insisted.
“And we’re in love and want to be together.”

Hestie sucked in air, wishing Gertie was better at censoring her words.

“How sweet,” Aphrodite said.

Hector’s face turned red and then quickly faded back to a pasty white.

“Your love-life is not our concern,” Athena said with a scoff. “And I am beginning to doubt your readiness for this transformation.”

Aphrodite flew to her feet. “I don’t appreciate your attitude toward love, Athena. It may not be our priority today, but it isn’t something to scoff at, either.”

“My apologies, sister,” Athena said in a way that didn’t sound sincere.

“What purpose would Hector contribute to the pantheon?” Hades wanted to know.

“Come forward, Hector,” Ares demanded. “Did you put her up to this?”

Hector moved to Gertie’s side. “I didn’t her put her up to anything, no. But I do know how I would like to serve, if given the chance.”

“Do tell us,” Athena said with an impatient frown.

“I want to be the god of demigods.”

“A trainer of warriors?” Ares asked with his brows lifted.
“Like the days of Chiron?”

Hector shook his head. “I can help them to train and to become strong warriors for you, but I also want to act as a mediary between the gods and their children.”

Hestie noticed uneasiness sweep across the room.

“We don’t need a mediary,” Poseidon insisted.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Apollo admitted.

“Why do you think we need one?” Hermes asked Hector.

“Because, well, I hate to say it, but…”

“Spit it out,” Athena said.

Hector glanced back at his father before returning Athena’s gaze. “The gods, for the most part, ignore their children. And their children grow up feeling unloved and neglected. I’d like to remedy this problem by finding ways to involve demigods with their parents.”

“Oh, boy,” Hades said beneath his breath. “This idea is doomed.”

Hestie turned to her grandfather and whispered, “Why?”

Ares stood up and answered in Hades’s stead. “Because we don’t need to be told what to do by another god—especially a new, inexperienced one. We see our kids on our own terms, thank you very much.”

Hector glanced back at Hephaestus, who’d remained quiet. “Do you have an opinion on this, Father?”

Hestie had never seen Hephaestus angry, but his red face gave him away when he said, “Has it ever occurred to you that gods don’t desire to have relationships with their mortal children?”

“It has,” Hector said, now growing angry, too. “You’ve made it fairly obvious, until recently, that is. You showed me your forge.”

“I regret that already,” Hephaestus growled.

Tears sprang to Hector’s eyes.

Hestie’s stomach clenched, and her heart ached for Hector. She couldn’t stop herself from saying telepathically to Hephaestus, How can you be so cruel?

“Then why have them?” Hector wanted to know. “If you don’t want relationships with them, why have them?”

“Gods aren’t immune to making mistakes,” Artemis pointed out.

“So, I’m a mistake,” Hector said beneath his breath.

The gods began whispering among themselves.

Ares threw up his hands. “Humankind needs great warriors.”

“And great artists,” Apollo added.

“And great athletes,” Hermes said.

Hector wiped his eyes. “How noble.”

Athena shook a fist. “Order. I want order.”

The room became silent again.

Then, Athena said, “Gertrude, it’s clear to me that your request to include Hector in this pantheon has been denied. And because you foolishly made that a condition of your own transformation, you will not be joining us, either. I think it’s time that these mortals left Mount Olympus before they offend us further. We have other business to discuss.”

Hestie looked from Gertie to Poros, shocked and upset. Was this really happening? Gertie might lack common sense, but she didn’t deserve this.

“Wait,” Poros objected. “Shouldn’t we put this to a vote?”

Hermes stood up. “I think we should hold off making this decision. Let’s give it more time. Right now, our priority should be what to do about STS and its smuggling of humans and dangerous weapons.”

“Hear, hear,” Poseidon said.

“All in favor of postponing our decision about Gertrude’s apotheosis, say aye,” Athena said.

The hall resounded with the assent of gods.