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Based on my research, I've discovered that no other book like this one--Athena: Gods and Monsters, Book One--exists. This is super exciting!
I can find no other novel that chronicles Athena's life in ancient and modern times.
And I can find no love story for her, either, probably because she was known as one of three virgin goddesses.
In writing Athena, I set out to stay true to the myths while giving Athena a love story that's tragic in ancient times but happy in modern times (eventually).
Here's the blurb:
Even the wise can be fools in love . . .
She grows up in the belly of her oppressive father, where she watches her mother build her armor and hatches plans for escape. Once freed, she becomes her father's favorite--a loyal subject, warrior, and advocate who stands by her father even when her favorite is sentenced for treason and chained to a rock, where his liver is eaten daily by Zeus's eagle. Then, her hopes for a reunion with Prometheus are crushed when he disappears, and years of searching prove futile. With a hardened heart, Athena becomes a powerful leader of the Olympians.
But when Prometheus returns from the shadows, her loyalties are challenged, her heart stirs with unquenchable passion, and her immortal life is forever changed.
Please enjoy this excerpt:
The armor would always be special to Athena. She wore a crested helmet, breastplate, and boots that reached her knees. She also had cuffs to protect her wrists and lower arms and a short girdle that gently flared from her waist. Each part of her armor displayed the same intricate design created by her mother of a central flower bordered by a chain-link trim. Made of bone, it was the color of ivory, and the designs were blood-red.
“It fits you perfectly and will increase or decrease in size as you do,” Metis said as she looked upon Athena with admiration.
“Thank you. I am pleased and will be forever grateful.”
“I wish I had a glass so you could see how stunning you appear.”
“I feel powerful in it.”
“You are powerful. Here, take your spear.”
Athena took the shaft and held it tightly in her fist. “My father lied to me. He will never set me free.”
“You will have to find a way out yourself.”
She embraced her mother. “Maybe you will follow me some day, if I can convince my father that you are not a threat.”
“Maybe.”
Athena held Metis tightly, torn between her need to be with her mother and her desire to be free.
“I’ll always be close to you,” her mother reassured her. “You must go.”
“Maybe I should stay a little longer.” As much as she longed to speak with Prometheus, she couldn’t tear herself away from her mother.
“That will only prolong my pain. I need you out there, living your life.”
Reluctantly, Athena flew from her mother to search for an opening. First, she tried to tunnel through her father’s ears, but he stuck his fingers in and blocked her exit. Next, she tried his nostrils, and he did the same. Then, she flew to his mouth and was about to stab his palette with her spear when he drank ale and washed her down his throat and back into his belly.
Although she dreaded it, she swam to his anus, but he pinched his buttocks together so tightly that she could not push her way through.
When she had left her mother’s womb, she’d had help, but her father’s resistance made a second birth seem impossible. Full of frustration, she jabbed her father’s innards with her spear. Although he doubled over, he bore it.
“Father!” she cried with her eyes narrowed and her fists clenched. “I will be free, one way or another!”
Then, she threw her spear with all her might up into his head, where it lodged into his brain.
Her father roared.
Athena raised her brows and met her mother’s smile with her own.
“Fly up and push the spear deeper,” her mother suggested.
After kissing her mother’s cheek once more, Athena rushed to her spear, gripped it with both hands, and drove it into her father’s brain.
His roars increased, and he flailed about, but Athena held her footing and kept the pressure on the spear.
Through her father’s eye sockets, she noticed gods and goddesses coming to her father’s aid. Apollo gave him a concoction to drink. Hestia brought him ice to apply to his scalp. And Hera massaged his temples with oil. But nothing worked, of course.
As Athena smiled to herself, she noticed Prometheus looking into her father’s eyes. Up close, his features were even more beautiful and intriguing. She held her breath and studied him, longing to speak with him, to touch him. Then, his mouth opened, and he stared back at her with surprise. Could he see her?
“Lord Zeus,” Prometheus said. “You have a daughter from Metis. The only way to end your torment is to set her free.” Prometheus turned to Hephaestus. “We need the sharpest axe you have.”
Athena’s heart raced. Would Prometheus liberate her?
A moment later, Prometheus put his face close to her father’s and, looking at her, said, “Stand back.”
Leaving the spear in place, Athena flew down to her father’s throat just as the blade of an axe split her father’s head in two. She glanced down at her mother who was smiling and waving with tears in her eyes. Athena blew her mother a kiss, grabbed her spear, and flew from her father’s head, where she hovered above the other gods. Like a wet dog, she shook her father’s blood from her skin, hair, and armor.
The great hall on Mount Olympus filled with gasps.