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

Joanne’s body first felt numb and nibble, so numb that she could barely feel her own skin, there was only the thumping of her heart to show that she was alive. She glanced around and saw only darkness, a thick nothingness, which was before she pushed away the blanket that covered her sight, and then a bit of light dimly showered in, showing the iron corners of the interior carriage. 


“I died.” Joanne whispered to herself, like she was unsure of what had occurred and needed to voice out her thoughts for assurance. “How am I alive. . .?” she asked, before hushing, as the memories flooded her, of the Fountain of Youth running through her veins, she remembered that she couldn't die, not yet at least. Then anger swelled in her heart, furiousness devoid of direction, her anger was looking for something to latch onto, then it did, she resorted to feeling of betrayal. 


Forty-six