A frustrated scream tore from Persephone as she threw the golden vase at the wall, the porcelain fragments shattering to the floor. In all the centuries she’d been trapped here, he always came to tell her good morning. He hadn’t appeared this morning. There had been no apology for his behavior yesterday. He was toying ...

As Hades’ warmth pressed against her bare back, the steady beat of his heart eased her from sleep. Her tresses muffled the soft rumble of his breathing. One arm draped over her hip, fingertips brushing her thigh. Until last night, she’d slept in her bed. Waking up here, with her god pressed against her, was ...

The roar of Hades’ heart was deafening as he reformed in his office. He had never spoken so coldly to Persephone. For so long, he’d been her punching bag, allowing her to berate him for a mistake he’d never meant to make. The story had become so twisted that only they knew the truth.  His ...

It’s written in paint across the west-facing wall of a dilapidated church; the message is cold in the summer heat. I’m anxious as I pace the perimeter. My partner, the former sheriff of El Triunfo, Nico Ros, lies on a chipped pew. His hat sits on his face, but his beard peaks out from the ...

Hades was all bark and very little bite. You’re mine, he’d told her, and he had meant it. She was his, but his declaration didn’t translate into claiming Pandora in that primal way he wished he could. Instead, it meant they settled into an easy routine that normal couples tended did. He didn’t know the ...

100 Years Later; Pandora’s Third Death   The days before Persephone returned to his Underworld were always full of anxiety. She’d shown she’d never love him. Every time she returned, her mind remained on her mother, Demeter, and the sunlight that warmed her skin. Being cursed to spend six months of the year in his Underworld ...

The Fates were so very cruel… When the soul of Athena’s Champion appeared in Hades’ Underworld an hour ago, he knew their savagery well. He struggled to keep his eyes off Pandora, to focus anywhere else, but her presence demanded attention. He’d tried to convince himself that he only noticed her because that was his ...

Oliver sat alone at the piano nursing a snifter of scotch. He wore his nicest suit, a black Italian three-button. His tie hung loose around his neck. He knew that his attire had gone out of style long ago. His face was worn, with bags under his eyes that made him look like he had ...