Hello
friends of romance! I’m so excited to be
here!
My
debut novel, For the Love of a God,
is released April 23! You can find it at
www.liquidsilverbooks.com
If you love a
sexy paranormal, full of love-starved Greek gods, then this is for you! My story was inspired by a trip to the
local museum where I fell in love with a statue of one of the Greek gods. It was so beautiful, so manly, and I couldn’t
help wondering what might happen if Greek gods were real.
I live near Toronto,
Canada and am passionate about mythology (although I’m also partial to
vamps!) I just love it when the geeky,
awkward girl gets the hot guy, and I’ve made it my mission to see this happen
in my books as much as possible.
Blurb:
Conservator Maia Douglas is an expert on
ancient Greece and its mythology. She would never tell anyone at the museum
where she works, but she's always had a secret crush on the mythical Eryx,
Greek god of love. There is nothing she loves more than to tend to her favorite
statue of him, and her nighttime dreams are filled with luscious images of Eryx
making love to her.
One day, the peace at Maia's beloved
museum is shattered when a new director arrives. A man who looks exactly like
her image of Eryx. As Maia watches, he manages to upset her ordered museum
world, at the same time he inflames her with unwanted desire.
Maia does not know that her new boss is
actually the god Eryx, disguised as a mortal so he may work in antiquities.
Although he is the god of love, he has forsaken his sexual nature because of a
curse that has killed any woman he's dared to love. Though he fights it, Eryx
is drawn to Maia with a force he's never experienced in a thousand years. But
can he convince her of his true identity? And can he protect her from a
vengeful goddess who seeks her destruction?
Excerpt:
Toronto,
Present Day
Maia
Douglas woke with a start. She looked around, disoriented. Then she remembered.
She’d only put her head down on her desk for a minute. Her brown eyes bleary,
she peered toward the clock on her office wall. Seven o’clock. “Dammit. Naps at
work. Bad idea.”
It
may have been after hours and the last tourist may have already been long gone,
but she knew she was playing a dangerous game. One of these nights, she’d sleep
right through and wouldn’t get her work done.
It
was her fault for insisting on working late. She could work during the day like
a normal person, but she loved the tranquility of the museum at night. Besides,
she hadn’t been sleeping well lately anyway. Might as well work through the
night.
She
rubbed her eyes and gathered her wits. She took a sip of her cold coffee and
stared at the wet spot on her blotter where she’d dribbled a little. “Ugh. Real
dainty, Douglas.”
She
pushed away from her desk. As foggy as she was, she knew it was the perfect
time to do her preliminary inspection. She hated doing her work when people
were milling about anyway. She gathered up her collapsible stool, a notebook,
and her Holly Hobby satchel, the one containing her pencils and various tools
of the trade. Thus armed, she stumbled out of her office.
Maia
looked around the conservation office. All the other conservators were already
gone for the day. No surprise there. She was the only one who kept such ungodly
hours.
Taking
the stairs up to the fifth floor, she made her way to the new Gallery of
Greece. This part of the museum wasn’t open to the public yet, and the entrance
was still shrouded by opaque drop cloths. She knew it wouldn’t open officially
until it passed muster with the new director.
His
Lordship was due any minute, and everyone at the Toronto Museum was nervous.
There was a reason for it. Eric Lord’s reputation preceded him. He was from a
family of museum experts, although she’d never met him in her travels. She’d
read articles by his grandfather--—another Eric Lord--—when she was a student,
and had been impressed with his keen insight into the ways of ancient Greece.
But the current Eric Lord was known the world over for his slash-and-burn style
of museum administration. She’d heard he was a downsizer, a ruthless one. Why,
last year he’d eliminated a whole department at one museum in New York for
their so-called inefficiencies.
Maia
sniffed. “Well, Eric Lord’s not the only museum royalty around here. And no one
knows this place like I do.”
Maia’s
father, Dr. Jim Douglas, was the famed archaeologist whose work formed the
basis of the Toronto Museum’s Greek collection. Maia had basically grown up
within its walls. So if Eric Lord was planning a cull in Toronto, he’d be a
fool to get rid of her.
Pushing
aside the cloths at the entrance, she entered the Gallery of Greece. One of the
cleaners was just finishing up in the gallery. She made sure to sashay around
the trail from his wet mop. “Hey, Wally. How’s business?”
The
older man looked up. “Miss Douglas, what are you still doing here? It’s
Saturday night! How come a pretty girl like you doesn’t have a date?”
“Tonight,
I have a date with Poseidon’s testicles.”
Wally
pulled a face.
“They’re
about to fall off,” she explained. “The statue, I mean. Poor guy has some nasty
cracks on him. I’ve got to fix him up for the big opening.”
Wally
just waved her away with a smile. “I’ll leave the fun stuff to you
conservators. I’ll stick to my mopping.”
Maia
made her way through the empty gallery, wondering why every word out of her
mouth always seemed so awkward. But as she pulled out her collapsible stool and
placed it in front of Poseidon and his cracked gonads, she didn’t worry. Staff
at the museum had long ago ceased their speculation about Maia’s quirks. After
all, she was Jim Douglas’s daughter. She was excellent at her job, which
rendered her many quirks negligible.
She
knew the collection of Greek antiquities so intimately they could have been siblings
to her. Quiet, somber siblings. Certainly there was nothing she valued more.
She was an expert conservator, specializing in marble sculpture. After she’d
completed her studies, the Toronto Museum administrators had been falling over
themselves to offer Maia the job. Sure, there had been enticing job offers from
as far away as the Hermitage and the British Museum. But she knew she’d never
leave her beloved museum. It was her second home.
It
was her life.
Before
she began her inspection of Poseidon, she walked over to one of the other
sculptures. It was the statue of Eryx, the Greek god of love. She stood before
him and sighed, letting her appreciative eyes rake over his nude body.
Absorbing the warmth he created in her. Feeding off his beauty.
This
was her ritual and had been ever since she was a little girl. Ever since her
father discovered the perfect statue in a long-hidden cove in Greece.
She
remembered her dad’s excitement after the find. He’d led her through the museum
after hours. She could still hear the sound of her Mary Janes clicking on the
marble floors. The museum had been shrouded in darkness, but Maia didn’t mind.
Even at five years old, she already knew every square inch of the place.
“Come,
sweet pea,” Dr. Douglas had said as he walked with her. “I have something new
to show you.”
Green
lollipop in mouth, she’d scrambled after him. She’d always loved these
night-time walks. As a curator, her dad often brought her to the museum at
night when the tourists had all gone home. He showed her all the ancient gold
jewelry and terracotta pieces and told her wonderful stories full of myth and
magic. To the little girl, being with her father was the greatest adventure on
earth.
Especially
since mother had left them.
“Is
it a big statue, Daddy?”
“Life-sized.
And in amazing condition. It’s as if he was just waiting in the cave, hoping to
be found.” He motioned toward the entrance of the Greek gallery. “And he’s
right through there.”
Little
Maia had spotted him right away. The sculpture was the new centerpiece of the
gallery and had been given a prominent spot. Her jaw had dropped open and her
lollipop had tumbled to the floor. Jim had grinned and picked it up, glad his
little girl shared his passion.
She’d
stared up at the statue of the man. He was so handsome. The way the sculptor
had angled his head made it feel as if he were gently smiling down at her. Maia
had smiled back, immediately smitten.
Jim
walked up to her and placed a hand on her back. He spoke in hushed tones. “He
is the god Eryx, son of Aphrodite. He was in love with the mortal priestess of
his temple. And she was…?”
“Chloe,
silly. I know that,” she’d replied. After countless bedtime stories, she knew
all the myths.
“Good
girl,” he’d smiled. “And do you remember the story of Eryx and Chloe?”
“The
bad goddess Nemesis killed Chloe because she was jealous.”
“And
Eryx?”
“He
was sad. Forever.” She’d rubbed her little tummy. “Daddy, I’m hungry.”
He’d
laughed. “Of course you are. It’s late, sweet pea. Let’s get you some dinner.
We’ll come back and see Eryx again.”
Maia’s
face had fallen. As much as her belly was rumbling, she didn’t want to go. She
liked the statue of the beautiful, smiling god. Even though, all of a sudden,
he looked a little sad.
What
happened next, Maia had never told her father. Never told anyone.
As
she had followed her dad out of the gallery, she’d turned to look at Eryx one
more time. Because she was five, and because it had seemed like a fun idea,
she’d poked out her green-stained tongue and wagged it at him.
The
statue had winked at her.
Now,
as an adult, she knew the wink was probably just the overactive imagination of
a precocious, little girl. Perhaps the fleeting shadow of one of the pigeons
haunting the window ledges of the museum. But it had felt so real at the time.
And now, every time she came to work in the gallery, she made a pit stop before
the statue of Eryx.
Just
in case…
“You’re
such a spazz,” she told herself as she pulled her long brown hair into a messy
ponytail on top of her head, affixing it with two crisscrossed pencils. “Get to
work.”
She
turned and seated herself before Poseidon and let out a sigh. With a gentle
hand, she cupped the water god’s balls and inspected the extent of the cracks.
She’d have to fill them in a little, as well as beginning a general cleaning of
the statue. He was starting to show his age.
Soon,
between conducting her inspection and making notes, she was lost in her work,
oblivious to everything else around her. Once again, she gingerly touched
Poseidon’s testes.
“How
about inspecting mine?”
Maia
jumped when the deep voice whispered in her ear. She snapped her head around,
almost wrenching off the statue’s balls in the process. “Who’s there?”
There
was no one. Beyond the entrance, Wally was still mopping, but had headphones on
now and was mopping to the music on his iPod. He hadn’t heard her cry. The
gallery was empty, peopled only by the many statues.
And
right in front of her stood the statue of the god Eryx, still bearing the same
grin as when she first saw him years ago. The grin which now appeared decidedly
randy from her perspective.
“You,”
she breathed, feeling her heartbeat regulate after her scare. “If any of you
old rocks could find a way to talk, I should have guessed it would be you.”
Dismissing the voice as a symptom of overwork and stress over the incoming
director, Maia turned back to Poseidon.
Even
with her back to Eryx, she felt a warm sensation along her spine. As if she was
being watched.
Doing
her best to ignore it, Maia continued her work.
Within
minutes, she knew it wasn’t working. Her back was burning.
She
should have expected it. She felt the same way each time she was in the
presence of the Eryx statue. It wasn’t just her love of antiquities making her
heart palpitate each time she saw him. Ever since she’d thought he’d winked at
her all those years ago, she’d developed a ridiculous crush on the gorgeous
statue. In a way, she thought of him as her own.
Of
course, he’d always been her favorite of all the Greek gods. She loved the
stories about him and couldn’t help falling a little in love with him from an
early age.
The
statue merely enforced the feeling. She loved the perfection of it. The way his
curls fell about his strong face. The clean lines of his muscled abdomen and
legs. Even the enticing length of his marble erection, as if the sculptor had
wanted him captured in a state of eternal arousal.
He
was the sexiest goddamn statue she’d ever seen. Michelangelo’s David was an
effeminate pansy by comparison.
She
shook her head. It was pathetic, how she mooned over him.
Over
it.
She
could never tell anyone Eryx was one of the reasons she’d chosen to remain with
the Toronto Museum, rather than working for another. Since the first time her
father showed her the sculpture, she’d felt oddly connected to it. It had been
her inspiration as she planned her education and career. She looked forward to
seeing him every day, even took extra shifts whenever she could. Just to keep
an eye on him and make sure no other conservators got their mitts on him.
Let
administration think she was just a devoted worker. She’d keep her strange
infatuation a secret.
Frowning,
she turned back to face Eryx. He looked so proud on his pedestal, so vibrant.
As if he might simply walk off it. His shoulders were squared, and his face
angled down toward the viewer. Although he was made of white marble, Maia had
no trouble picturing what he might look like in color. Somehow, she just knew
those thick curls would be honey blond. Those flashing eyes would be green and
his nude body would be tanned. His generous penis could fill her, stretch her …
a velvety pillar of lustful strength.
“Oh,
man, I need to get out more.” She ran a hand over her hot forehead. “This place
is playing tricks on my mind.”
She
heard a deep, manly laugh.
Automatically,
her eyes shot back to Eryx’s statue. Why was it the laugh seemed to come from
his direction?
“Okay,
I’ve had enough. I’m outta here.” She folded up her stool and walked right up
to Eryx. “You don’t fool me, buster. I know you winked at me all those years
ago. Now you’re talking to me? Maybe I am losing my mind, but if you have
something you need to say to me, just get off your perch and say it. Stop
messing with me.”
Then,
feeling foolish for admonishing a piece of marble, she turned on her heel, and
left.
Thank-you!
First off woohoo for Ontario love. I'm from Ontario as well. I'm so looking forward to reading this book.
ReplyDeleteThanks Savannah! I just couldn't resist having my Greek god fall in love with a Canadian girl. I'm living vicariously through her! Hee hee. Thanks for the lovely show of support!
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