Gorgon's Price Redemption of the Gorgons Book 1 by Claire Davon Genre: Paranormal Romance
Euryale will never forget the day the gods turned her into a monster. After millennia, her heart beats faster at the idea of regaining her normal form. For the feel of skin and not scales, hair and not snakes. But the price could be too high.
Knowing full well the gods can’t be trusted, Euryale agrees to take on a reluctant partner to track down whoever is murdering a growing number of gods. A murderer no one cared about until the killings edged uncomfortably close to bigger and bigger pantheons. Tracking the murderers down is the price she has to pay for her newly restored form—and that of her two equally cursed sisters.
Asher’s unusual gift for eerily horrific sound effects make him a highly sought-after voiceover artist. While he keeps a low profile, there has always been a ticking time bomb in the form of the bargain between his banshee mother and his father, the god Ares. It’s time to pay up—or pay with his life.
As Euryale and Asher dance around their mutual mistrust, the friction ignites a fire of unexpected attraction. But love is almost as impossible as the dangerous task ahead. Because even if the murderers don’t stab them in the back, the fickle gods certainly will.
Asher’s broad shoulders twitched against the trendy form-fitting shirt he was wearing. The ripple of his muscles was evident under the cloth, and something flipped inside her belly. It had been a long time since she had been driven by anything other than bestial desires. If she were in her other form, she would have sniffed the air to inspect if he was feeling the same heat she was. But she was no longer a beast.
Except she was. It had taken them decades to stop thinking of themselves as immortal goddesses, and it would also be the reverse. It had been so long since someone considered her with longing—and for her to feel that same pulse within her—Euryale wasn’t sure what to make of it.
“How much do you grasp of how things work today?”
She scoffed at him. “I’m a monster, but I’m not living in a cave. That’s for legends. I made my home in Casper, Wyoming after all. I can function—I have a glamour that allows me to move in human circles. I keep to myself and don’t socialize, but I get by. I can assure you I act appropriately in polite company. I’m not going to turn around and eat them. Although,” she grinned and allowed her shields to slip, “mortals can be tasty.”
The image she projected of eating a man who had mistaken her human form for a weak one was designed to shock. To Asher’s credit, he displayed no emotion.
“Good. That will make this easier.” Euryale was disappointed. He took her for who she was now and not a monster, something she hadn’t experienced in a long time.
“What do you have in mind?”
“Our cover is that I met you when I vacationed here last, and we fell in love. It’s been a long-distance relationship. You’re moving to Los Angeles to live with me. To answer your question, I think the reason that the gods asked for our help is because we can find out things a god could not. We’re both creatures whose weapons are sound, and it may come in handy in battle.”
Euryale met his gaze and tried to probe his mind but found that his shields were good. Almost, but not quite as good as hers.
“Asher, that’s nonsense. The real reason they came to us is that we are expendable.”
He nodded. “That too.”
Gorgon's Quest Redemption of the Gorgons Book 2
Thanks to her sister Euryale’s bargain with the gods, gorgon Stheno is back in human form—but far from comfortable in her skin. As the fiercest warrior of her three sisters, she mourns her tough, beastly hide and snaky hair.
The last thing anyone would call Stheno is girly—much less beautiful—but before she sets out to find her lost, mortal sister, Medusa, she googles a salon at random to cut off her annoyingly long hair. Her stylist is Marwen, a man with compelling, light-brown eyes that glow with an otherworldly light.
The last of Stheno’s unruly locks barely hit the floor when the first attack comes, and in a heartbeat they’re on the run. As their passion ignites, they realize they didn’t meet by chance. They’re both entangled in a prophecy drawing them inexorably toward one fated conclusion: Medusa. But there’s a faction working just as hard to make sure it never happens.
To save her sister, Stheno will have to face her fear—that once she unleashes her beast, Marwen won’t look upon her with love any more, but with horror.
Something had woken him. He couldn’t identify the source, but an entity had reached into his mind and stirred him to wakefulness. Marwan eased out of the bed and went to the window. Although the black night coated everything, the glint of the lake shone. Marwan understood that was where he was supposed to go. He couldn’t ignore a summons that could rouse him out of sleep. There was one group of beings that could do that—the gods.
He had a few questions for them, anyway.
He made his way down to the lake, heedless of his path, trusting that whatever was compelling him would keep him safe. He would soon find out if this was a waking vision, a dream state, or reality.
It wasn’t a god but a goddess who waited for him when he arrived down by the water. Wet sand oozed under his bare feet, but Marwan paid no attention to the squishy sensation. The woman studied him in the manner of a teacher examining a student. He searched his memory and found a name. Geshtinanna. He gathered all he could recall about the dark-haired woman in a brown cloak, surrounded by mystery. She was a local deity, an agricultural divinity associated with dream interpretation. She was linked with interpretation, but not the dreams themselves. It was a puzzle, but there was a lot that humans didn’t understand about the ancient gods.
“Am I dreaming?”
She gestured with her hand to the water. “It may be that you are. It may be that you are not. Walk with me.”
Marwan fell into step next to her. Despite his height, she was taller, but that was the way of dreams—or visions.
The lake lapped against the shoreline, a peaceful counterpart to the unease inside him. A snake was hissing but didn’t seem like one of Stheno’s. Could other gods penetrate Geshtinanna’s dreamlands? His ancestor was god of vegetation and the Underworld, and snakes—he had to have experience in other realms. Marwan realized how little he knew about the pantheon he was descended from. He had been away too long.
“The veil between dreaming and waking is thinner than you grasp, son of Ningishzida. Dreams can be useful, when expertly employed. Those who are your enemies can’t detect them.”
“Is that why you came to me in this manner?”
She inclined her head. “The gods who pursue you are related to me through my brother. The prophecy has frightened them. They think that by stopping you from waking the sister, you will be prevented from enacting what is to come. However, it is not them who took her. They would have interceded, but another was there before they arrived.”
Shocked, he turned to her, but she was staring over the water. “What is the prophecy?”
She shook her head. “I don’t have an answer to that. It is something that has been kept guarded by those who have read it. But you and the sister have a place in it, and the day is drawing near.”
He lowered his gaze. “By ‘the sister’ you mean Stheno, not Medusa, is that correct? Medusa is somewhere she shouldn’t be, and it is Stheno that is relevant to me, not Medusa.” He wasn’t sure it was wise to say the next words, but he went ahead. “Medusa matters to Stheno therefore she is important to me. Otherwise she wouldn’t be of much concern.” He should have been ashamed saying this in front of one of the Sumerian mother goddesses, but he wasn’t. There was little point in lying.
“It is as I suspected. What is coming will have great impact on the gods, if what I have learned of the prophecy holds true. But prophecies are a funny thing. They do not often transpire in the ways people expect. It is in trying to thwart them that people make their mistake. You have a part to play in this. It is not an accident that you and Stheno were brought together. I have witnessed the two of you in my visions. Much hinges on what you do. Your role in this is as big as the one Medusa plays. Utu, my brother’s wife’s brother, hunts you for many reasons. The prediction is but one. Beware him and be wary of his followers. There are many possible outcomes. I have followed their paths in my dreams. I cannot counsel you on what the right one is. You are not alone in this. Not all of us are aligned with him. We will help if we can. There is much still to do.”
Geshtinanna continued to walk and did not quite touch the ground. In all other ways the landscape had the solidity of reality, but that single fact told him he had to be asleep.
“I don’t have any idea what I’m supposed to do next. I am at a loss, goddess.”
“Do not worry. It will not be long. They are coming.”
With that, Marwan jerked awake.
Gorgon's Release Redemption of the Gorgons Book 3
A prophecy has been set in motion. Only love can change its course.
Medusa awakens in an unfamiliar cave, catches a glimpse of her reflection in a pool—and screams. Her thick hide, claws, snake-hair, even her ability to turn anyone into a garden statue with a look, all gone. The heart-stopping beauty that caused her and her sisters’ downfall is restored.
Confused, uncertain, vulnerable in her weak human body, she sets out across an unfamiliar countryside, where she meets a stranger from whom she can’t tear her once-deadly gaze.
The first time Olivier lays eyes on Medusa, awareness hits him low and hard. Her penetrating gaze ignites desires deep in his psyche, and an awareness that brought him across an ocean to await the answer to his great-grandfather’s cryptic message: Now is the time.
A secret in Olivier’s bloodline could help Medusa fulfill a prophecy to cause the downfall of the gods. But as they race to discover its final missing pieces, the truth becomes clear. They could be pawns in a hidden struggle for power. One wrong move, and their future could be lost like stones in the sea.
When Gaston scrambled to his feet, Olivier followed suit. When in Rome…or France. He craned his neck, unsure of what had commanded Gaston’s attention.
Then he saw her.
The most beautiful woman he had ever seen stood before them, flanked by a man as big as he. Her amazing face was a study in confusion. She studied first Gaston and then Olivier, furrows marring the perfection of her honey-colored eyes. Those orbs were like the rest of her, sweet and delicious. He could drown in them.
Gaston offered the woman his hand. She placed her hand in his bigger one and allowed him to guide her to a chair. The new man took one of the empty seats, lowering himself down carefully as though the wood might not hold his weight.
Olivier could identify.
The waiter came over, but Gaston waved him off.
“Olivier, these are the ones we were waiting for. This is Chrysaor…and Medusa.”
“Crazy what parents will name their kids.” She’d been introduced as Medusa, but it didn’t mean this gorgeous woman was the Medusa. Despite what his uncle said about gods and prophecies. “I’m Olivier, and I still don’t get why I’m here.”
Awareness kicked him low and hard, sending his blood pressure rising. It wasn’t just her beauty. Something in him recognized her as someone he had known all his life, although they had never met. The tips of his ears grew hot as a streak of white-hot longing swept over him in a wave. The absurdity would have entertained him if not for the fact that he couldn’t speak around the desire thickening his tongue.
“This is Medusa. The very one. She is alive.”
“That’s impossible. This whole thing is ridiculous.” Olivier was inches away from getting up and storming away from the café. They were mocking him. “The old tales were partly true. I get that. I learned from my great-grandparents. I’m living proof. Still, the fact remains that Medusa was a hideous monster slain by Perseus centuries ago. Even if that’s mostly myth, she is dead.”
Gaston cleared his throat. “It’s complicated.” He gestured to Chrysaor. “But it is nonetheless true. She is Medusa, who has been restored to her original form, and he is her son. Chrysaor.”
Olivier struggled to try and remember the myth. He couldn’t recall if Medusa had children or not. Even if she did, it didn’t matter. They would be dead like her, and long buried. He was being played for some kind of fool.
“Who are these men? Why are we here?”
The idea that this man and this woman could be mother and son was ridiculous. This had to be some elaborate scam to trap the American gargoyle for an as-yet unknown reason. It could all be a long con by his so-called uncle. He didn’t know much about Gaston. The sensible thing to do would be to get up and leave, and to heck with the elder gargoyle. Nothing held him there—he had no obligation to his companions. His stone powers moved within him, and for an instant, his nails turned gray. The control to change their arms alone was a hard-won talent and he knew better than to reveal it. That secret was sacrosanct in his line.
He didn’t move from his chair. Awareness pulsed through him from the balls of his feet to the tips of his ears. She had a creamy complexion, her jet-black hair making the paleness of her skin more acute. A hint of red touched her skin as though it hadn’t seen the sun in a long time. Her penetrating gaze bored into him and awakened the desires that lay deep in his psyche.
Olivier shook his head. He should go. Yet he stayed. Pressure built in his head, making it difficult to think.
“They are men who can help you,” Chrysaor said, and then gestured to the strangers. “This is Gaston, and this is…” He waited for Gaston to supply the word.
“Olivier.” Gaston bowed his head. “He is my nephew.”
She gave them both a sniff and studied Olivier. “I sense the unfamiliar in you. It’s a family trait. You’re…” She breathed in and then out, her gaze boring into his soul. “You’re a gargoyle. How are you walking around during the day? Why are you not upon buildings?”
She studied him and his cock twitched. Olivier tried to keep a cool demeanor but sweat gathered under his arms. It was like in his high school boxing days when he’d taken a hit to the solar plexus and was reeling on the ropes.
“Gargoyles are not what legends say. As you are not.” It was Gaston who spoke, while Medusa’s attention stayed on Olivier. A shadow crossed her face, seeming to darken her mood. His plummeted as well at the mere sight of unhappiness on her. Ridiculous. He hadn’t even known the woman ten minutes.
She focused on Gaston, her appraisal peremptory and quick. “That is true,” she said before turning back to her son. “Thank you for the supplies. Why did you move me? That cave held protection and safety. Stheno has long informed me of that.”
Chrysaor’s smirk was enigmatic. “I have long been aware of your location, but it was better to let things continue as they were. My aunts did not know that I knew. You were important to them, but your children were not. They never sought me out—if they remembered my existence at all. Never mind that. We have things to discuss.”
The pressure behind his temple increased, and Olivier could almost hear voices inside his mind. He stayed rooted to the spot, staring at Medusa.
Claire can’t remember a time when writing wasn’t part of her life. Growing up, she used to write stories with her friends. As a teenager she started out reading fantasy and science fiction, but her diet quickly changed to romance and happily-ever-after’s. A native of Massachusetts and cold weather, she left all that behind to move to the sun and fun of California, but has always lived no more than twenty miles from the ocean.
In college she studied acting with a minor in creative writing. In hindsight she should have flipped course studies. Before she was published, she sold books on eBay and discovered some of her favorite authors by sampling the goods, which was the perfect solution. Claire has many book-irons in the fire, most notably her urban fantasy series, The Elementals’ Challenge series, but writes contemporary and shifter romances as well as.
While she’s not a movie mogul or actor, she does work in the film industry with her office firmly situated in the 90210 district of Hollywood. Prone to break out into song, she is quick on feet and just as quick with snappy dialogue. In addition to writing she does animal rescue, reads, and goes to movies. She loves to hear from fans, so feel free to drop her a line.