Allow me to compel you into realms of my imagination. Allow me to take you on a journey, to a world of goddesses and demigods, of monsters and evil Regents, of prophecies and heroines/heroes.

In the beginning was a world ruled by Men, which was filled with wars and death. The tribulations of the Mortal realms came to the attention of the Greek gods and goddesses. Zeus (King of the Heavens) held a meeting in Olympus to end the sufferings of the mortals. But the devious Hera (Queen of the heavens) blamed Man for the destruction of the mortal realm. And when the gods were against it, Hera connived with other goddesses to make an elixir that transferred dominance to Women, causing a paradigm shift across the mortal realms. Then the goddesses dwelled in the mortal realms to teach and create fantastical cities, that is, until they vanished to the heavens. Then millions of years passed as mortals flourished in peace, before dark forces began rising.

A generation of teenagers: Chilton and Chilonis, Tiki and Rode, Lozen and Joanne are all descendants or legacies of these goddesses, who are determined to roam the perilous cities and battle evil and participate in a competition called the Heraen games: where the winners who find the ‘Urn of Nike’ lives and the losers die.

‘Daughters of Hera: legacies of goddesses’ is a YA/NA dark fantasy that combines Greek mythology with world building, and multi-characters, which would appeal to a broad audience among fans of George R. R Martin’s ‘Game of Thrones’ and Rick Riordan’s ‘Percy Jackson and the Olympians’ series respectively.

Daughters of Hera

“I’ve never been embarrassed of you, my child. It’s just that I see you holding so much potential. I swear I do not like perceiving alcohol on you, It’s always breaks my heart to, but I can never be embarrassed of you. I wouldn’t dare replace you with the finest of rubies, not even the stars. I only do what I do, to fulfill a promise I made to your parents, to protect you.” 


“Why don’t I believe you,” sassed Joanne, clearly unconvinced. She shuddered as a chill of cold gushed around her. Tiny droplets of rain drizzled on her skin as she glared at Sylva. “Do you think I want to be this way? Do you think I want to numb my senses with alcohol? Do you think that I want to be broken? That I've worn my pain on my sleeves for too long? No!—no! I can't control it. Do you remember how I saw them—?” 


“—you don't need to say it, my child. I was there. . .” mumbled Sylva, before her voice trailed off. 


Forty-eight