I’ve been working on Turning Creek 4, Plagues of the Heart, though lately in the evening I have been too tired to write. I am not, however, too tired to binge on Daredevil or read. Here are a few books that have captured my attention in the past week. In order of most recently read:
Captive Dragon by Ella Drake – Paranormal Romance (shifters) It’s a sea horse, y’all.
Kilt in Space by Ella Drake – Scifi Romance (humanoid) A nod towards Beowulf with kilts!
Sworn to the Wolf by Lauren Dane – Paranormal Romance (shifters)
Marked in Flesh by Anne Bishop – Paranormal (shifters)
Before Midnight by Jennifer Blackstream – Paranormal Historical Romance (shifters) AND a Cinderella retelling FTW
A Brewer’s Guide to Opening a Nano Brewery by Dan Woodsky – nonfiction
Queen of Starlight by Jessa Slade – Scifi Romance
What I am reading right now:
The Alchemist of Souls by Anne Lyle – fantasy (maybe with romance)
The Encyclopedia of Early Earth by Isabel Greenberg – graphic novel
As you can see, I have been on a shifter kick lately and most of the romance books are definitely on the steamy side. I blame this on Lauren Dane. I read Wolf’s Ascension a little over a month ago and have been craving that sub-genre ever since. Everything on the list was a great read.
Last month, I also went to see Anne Bishop at Murder by the Book. I enjoyed her reading from Marked in Flesh, which you will notice is on the list above.
Today (a day late), I want to do something completely different. Instead of talking about a Greek myth, I want to highlight another book by a fellow Texas author who writes fiction based on Greek Mythology.
If you are at all familiar with Medusa or if you read my mythology post on Medusa a while back, you know that Medusa’s story, no matter how spun, will be tragic. Summers expertly weaves the tragedy together with a beautiful story that ends with an HEA both touching and fitting for her couple.
Summers perfectly nails the personalities of the gods who seek to control the world according to their own narcissistic wants. The havoc they wreck with power that goes unchecked is the force that drives much of the book. How mere mortals deal with the power wielded their way is what makes this story compelling and will keep you turning until the very end.
I recommend this book to anyone who had enjoys the Turning Creek series, a little mythology, and a powerful romance. Spring Break is coming up, perfect time to get a new book and read the day away.
Here is the blurb:
It’s said love
can change a person. Medusa wasn’t always a monster…
Medusa is ruled by duty, to her Titan father and the Goddess Athena. She’s no room for the tenderness her warrior guard, Ariston, stirs. When Olympus frees her from service, her heart leads her into the arms of the guard she loves… and curses her as the creature with serpent locks.
Ariston goes to war with a full heart… and dreadful foreboding. He learns too late of the danger Medusa faces, alone, and a Persian blade sends him into the Underworld. But death, curses, nor the wrath of the Gods will keep him from returning to her.
Poseidon will use Greece’s war to get what he wants: Medusa. He does not care that she belongs to another. He does not care that she will be damned. He is a God, an Olympian, and she will be his.
Mount Olympus is an actual set of peaks in the Balkan range in Greece. Mount Olympus consists of 52 individual peaks, the highest of which is Mytikas (pictured above). Mytikas soars to 9, 573 feet, which may seam like small potatoes to Americans who claim many fourteeners, but Mytikas is the highest peak in Greece. It is a popular place for climbers and home to an impressive number of flora and fauna.
In Greek myths, Mount Olympus is the seat of Zeus and the home of the gods. Mytikas was said to be the exact location of the house of the gods which was topped by a bronze dome.
In the world of Turning Creek, the Greek gods did live on Mount Olympus, but their home was destroyed in the uprising led by the original four harpies. The following is an account of those early days, taken from my notes.*
Banished and forgotten on the islands of Strophades, the harpies nursed their bitterness and their appetite for revenge increased. There was very little to do on Strophades except plot the downfall of the cause of their imprisonment. The four harpies swore on the River Styx that they would see Zeus cast down from Mount Olympus and punished for the curses he had placed upon them.
It was not hard for the harpies to find others who had yearned for their own revenge on the Father of Olympus. Zeus had a nasty habit of granting power to others, only to be displeased at the threat he felt to his throne once those powers were wielded. Countless women lost their purity to Zeus and many of his children resented their birth. There were even whispers at the time that Hera, once loving wife to Zeus, had finally grown tired of her husband’s philandering and the growing ranks of bastards in her court.
By the time the rebellion took root, mortals had turned their eyes and their faith from the mountain of the gods. There were no supplicants to record the battles that came nor list the fallen. Few rallied to Zeus’s side and, in the end, those that did, lost all.
In the final battle, the harpies led the charge through the great throne room and tore the flesh from Zeus’s bones. With his last breath, he sent his spirit from his shredded body. It erupted from him in the shape of a thunder bolt and disappeared across the skies.
The harpies had extracted their revenge, but at a great cost. One of their own, Podarge, was killed by Ioke in their final charge. The four shields ran after the death of their master, but word of them cropped up now and then whenever the world found itself at war. Podarge’s body was entombed in Mount Olympus with the fallen of both sides and her line died.
Those left dispersed into the world, intermarried with mortals, and watched as their history became the stuff of legends and myths. With each passing generation, their powers weakened and they became Remnants of their ancestors’ greatness.
Every few generations, a story would surface of some adventurer seeking the lost bolt of Zeus, but it was never found. Few Remnants believed such a thing even existed. Other Remnants remembered the tales of Zeus’s cruelty, passed down to them like bedtime tales of the boogeyman, and they feared one day the stories would be true.
I will be celebrating by taking the day off work, drinking copious amounts of coffee, and and reading things on the internet. Oh, and giving some stuff away.
This book revolves around some key letters Iris receives from different people and we all know letters are vitally important to Iris. Thus, the giveaway includes: one signed copy of Letters in the Snow (because you all need one of those), a set of 36 door note cards (I adore pictures of doors), a set of 10 friendship note cards (because you all have some friends, right? maybe one?), 10 brightly colored pens for writing (who wants boring old black and blue?), 3 tiny composition books (for leaving in your bags and around the house for when genius strikes), and a notepad that says you are awesome (because you are). Iris would approve. Open to US and Canada only.
A frequent trope in myths is the hero who is sent on a quest which has previously caused the gruesome deaths of other would-be adventurers. Nothing says, “I hope you fail,” like sending someone off to kill a monster that can’t be killed. Congratulations!
Enter Hercules and the Nemean Lion. Ya’ll know it’s going to end badly for the lion, but play along and be surprised at the end, okay?
The Oracles at Delphi command Hercules to perform Twelve Labors for King Eurystheus*, a man Hercules loathed, as penance for killing his family. We do not discuss that last bit very often. The hero Hercules, became a hero, in part, in his effort to make atonement for murdering his wife and two children. The Oracles told Hercules that at the end of his service to Eurystheus, he will be granted eternal life.
The Nemean Lion was so named because it lived in a cave in the valley of Nemea. The entire region was frightened of this beast who gorged itself on the flesh of man and beast alike, then would retreat to its cave at dusk. If you, like me, grew up watching nature documentaries on PBS, you are thinking that lions are nocturnal and this story is already ridiculous.
According to some sources, the lion would occasionally take the appearance of a maiden in distress and lure men to the cave where it lived. Once the men were deep enough in the cave, the woman would turn into the lion and eat the unsuspecting men.
The lion was the son of Echidna and Typhon, whom we have discussed before.
Hercules spied the lion moving slowly one afternoon after it had eaten. Hercules pulled an arrow from his quiver and let it fly. The arrow, much to his surprise, bounced harmlessly off the lion. Confused and frustrated, Hercules tried again with the same results. The lion saw him and jumped towards the hero. Hercules kept his wits and pulled out a large club. Before the lion’s jaws snapped closed, Hercules whacked the lion soundly over the head and the club broke in two.
Here is where the story has two different endings:
In some versions, Hercules wrestled the lion out in a field in the open where he found victory. In most versions, Hercules allowed the lion to retreat to its cave. Hercules blocked one entrance to the cave, leaving the lion with no alternative escape route. Hercules crept into the cave and squeezed the lion’s neck from behind to avoid its claws, strangling it to death.
After defeating the beast, Hercules realized he needs to skin the lion and remove its head to prove he had completed the task. In a fit of grotesque genius, he used the lion’s own claws to skin the body. The skin became his famous loin cape, part of his “I’m a bad ass hero suit.” Hercules took the head of the lion to Eurystheus, who was appalled even though this had indeed been the task he himself gave Hercules, and forbade the hero to bring his spoils into the city. Hercules then went about his next task, slaying the Lernaean Hydra.
In remembrance, Hera places the Nemean Lion among the stars as the constellation Leo.
I am so pleased to finally be able to show you the cover for Iris’s story, Letters in the Snow. Alexandre Rito, who has done all the Turning Creek covers, did a beautiful job, again, on this one. I was concerned Iris’s wing would come out yellow on the cover, but Alexandre managed to make the wing look luminous in the snowy winter sky. I adore it.
The story takes place, appropriately, in February when spring still seems very far away. As suggested by the title, letters are integral to the plot. Many of my favorite books use letters as a plot device. Two of them stick out in my memory. Mr. Darcy writes that beautiful not really an apology letter to Elizabeth in Pride and Prejudiceby Jane Austen. Folie and Robert fall in love through letters in My Sweet Follyby Laura Kinsale.
Letters in the Snow officially launches February 25th. You can pre-order ebooks at these fine retailers: Amazon, Google Play, and Kobo.
The week before it comes out, I will be giving away some free copies to my newsletter group. Sign up for a chance to win a copy before you can buy it.
Iris is a simple postmistress in the small town of Turning Creek, Colorado. Simple, except for being a descendant of a Greek myth, having a pair of golden wings, and possessing the ability to speak prophecy. She has had her hands so full guiding the harpies towards their destinies that she has forgotten to seek out her own.
A mysterious letter from an anonymous admirer begins a correspondence that weaves itself into Iris’s heart and awakens a longing for a love of her own. The letters keep arriving, and Iris is increasingly more aware of the charms of Jacob Wells, a newcomer to Turning Creek. She wonders if the letters are from him. But even with Jacob’s charisma and the lure of a new relationship, Iris discovers the heart can’t be contained, and that her heart’s desire might be for someone who was there all along.
Unfortunately for Iris, the letters and the resulting affairs of the heart are not the only perplexing things happening in Turning Creek. Something more than nature is burying the town in a deadly winter blanket, and a closely guarded secret that will change Turning Creek forever is revealed.
In anticipation of Letters in the Snow coming out (release date to be announced with hoopla soon!) I am giving away some signed copies of Storm in the Mountains.
Marina Ocypete is a harpy, a Remnant of the Greek myth living in a small town in the Colorado Territory She would rather start a decent fight than sit around idle. The local sheriff offers her a job as a deputy which seems like a better choice than suffering from boredom, but Reed Brant has a way of getting under her skin.
With the influx of Remnants in his town, Reed needs Marina’s skills as a harpy to keep the peace. His head knows she is not the get married and settled down type he wants, but she might be just the thing his heart desires.
When women start disappearing in Turning Creek, it will be up to Marina and Reed to find the cause behind the fear gripping their town. Marina will have to choose between a fate she never questioned and the man who makes her believe even a harpy can have a heart.
I went to a local bookstore, the delightful Murder By the Book, last week to see an author I liked an awful lot. It was so fabulous, I left lovingKevin Hearne (but not in a weird creepy way) (I swear).
Kevin Hearne writes an absolutely wonderful fantasy set in modern day Arizona whose main character is a witty last-of-his-kind druid. The pages are filled with interesting villains, a hilarious side-kick dog, and side characters that refuse to leave their share of the lime light. The first book is Hounded and you really need to go read it right now. I have not read all the books in the series yet. Part of me does not want to binge through them, afraid I will forget to savor them as they should be savored, like a good beer at your favorite pub. Relax, enjoy these wonderful words.
I have followed Kevin Hearne online for awhile now. He is smart, funny, geeky, and supportive of his fellow writers online. He loves craft beer and is an English teacher when he is not writing, being a dad, husband, and person in the world. I can now attest he is the same in person as he is online to people. He was worth every minute of the hour through Houston traffic (save me) that it took me to get there. If you look at his Twitter feed, you can see all the pictures he posts of fans. It’s amazing. I love it.
He answered a ton of questions, told funny stories, and admitted his writing has a higher purpose. Namely, he thinks we should all be good humans and be nice for Pete’s sake. He was gracious and obviously appreciated the crazy people who turned out to talk to him for ten seconds and buy a book. Worth. Every. Moment and Penny.
This whole post is really a love letter to authors I love that I have fawned over online and in person. Thank you for being gracious when I act ridiculous when I meet you. Words are important to me. I love to write them. I adore reading ones I did not slave over. Thank you for being good humans online and in person. Thank you for writing characters I cry over, cheer for, and think about long after the book is over.
Honestly, when I set out to write this, even though I knew it was not accurate, this is what my mind thinks a satyr looks like:
Or perhaps like this:
What I tend to think of as satyrs are actually fauns. A much better example of a satyr would be this:
In true Greek mythology, satyrs were between a faun and the Narnia satyr above. In Greek mythology, satyrs were closely tied with Dionysus though they were also known to cavort with and serve Gaia, Rheia, Hermes, and Hephaestus. They were most often the companions of Dionysus, drinking and playing flutes or tambourines. The flute was their preferred instrument.
Satyrs had the head of a man, but had pug noses, donkey ears, donkey or horse hind legs, and a horse tail. Though their body was mostly hairless, they were almost always depicted with long dark hair and beards. If they wore clothes, they were made from animal skins with the fur still intact and wore laurels of vines or ivy on their brow. They were considered to be symbols of nature, life, and the harvest, and as such were often shown with large, erect members. *cough* If you do a Google image search for satyr quite a few interesting things come up. I would advise you not trying that one at work.
Satyrs often consorted (sexually) with the nymphs, maenads, and other bacchanals. By some accounts, they were adapt at every kind of sensual pleasure. Their main purpose seems to be to follow Dionysus around, drink, and pursue females of all kinds.
Their parentage is disputed. The most widely held belief is that the satyrs were the sons of Hermes and Iphthima or that they were descended from the Naiads. They were also claimed by Silen. Strabo wrote that they were sons of the five daughters of Hecataeus and the daughter of Phoroneus.