Release date: December 7, 2022
Subgenre: Urban Fantasy, Greek Mythology
About The Guardian:
Medusa vacays on the Italian Riviera to stop her best friend from destroying the world.
I’m staying off the coast on the Italian Riviera in Portofino. Have you ever been? It’s this gorgeous bay surrounded by rectangular red and yellow pastel buildings with swanky shops, restaurants and gorge trails.
Well, I don’t want to be here. And I really didn’t want my lover to join me. See, I came to protect my friend. The ancient Greek gods of Olympus claim Arachne holds the Scepter of Azure. The Scepter is a weapon that can freeze an entire city. Well, I don’t really care about the Scepter, I care about my friend. Of course, Arachne can hold her own. Don’t ever underestimate animals like spiders—or snakes, like me, for that matter.
The Guardian is a short novella.
Medusa returns from My Evil Eye in this vacation urban fantasy novella. Although The Guardian is chronologically Book II in the Furies series, this book is a distinctive stand-alone that was written to be enjoyed without having read the first novel, My Evil Eye.
I’m staying off the coast on the Italian Riviera in Portofino. Have you ever been? It’s this gorgeous bay surrounded by rectangular red and yellow pastel buildings with swanky shops, restaurants and gorge trails.
Well, I don’t want to be here. And I really didn’t want my lover to join me. See, I came to protect my friend. The ancient Greek gods of Olympus claim Arachne holds the Scepter of Azure. The Scepter is a weapon that can freeze an entire city. Well, I don’t really care about the Scepter, I care about my friend. Of course, Arachne can hold her own. Don’t ever underestimate animals like spiders—or snakes, like me, for that matter.
The Guardian is a short novella.
Medusa returns from My Evil Eye in this vacation urban fantasy novella. Although The Guardian is chronologically Book II in the Furies series, this book is a distinctive stand-alone that was written to be enjoyed without having read the first novel, My Evil Eye.
Excerpt:
It’s dark, but the water’s warm. A green glow shines in front of me. That’s the glow from my eyes. The thick black cobras in my hair are stirring on my head like crazy. They don’t like water and they know where this is heading. My incisors have grown into fangs, my fingernails are sharp as knives, and my face is wrinkled like an old lady’s. Yeah, I’m in full-on Medusa mode. But I probably look pretty silly to the fish as a sea monster swimming in a bathing suit.
Oh, there’s a shark. He’s a big one. Watch out, sharkie, I’ve got teeth too. I adore these creatures, by the way. They’re cannibals. As a monster myself, I play nice and find eating my own kind to be really gross, but I respect killing machines.
I lost the little fella. I smell him more than see him now. He’s giving me a wide breadth. It must be these snakes snapping back at him over my head.
I’ve changed into Medusa because, honestly, I’m totally freaked out. It’s creepy swimming alone in the ocean at night. I’m waiting for a great white shark to latch onto my legs and tug me down, like in that famous scene in Jaws. Remember that movie? You know when the girl at the beginning of the movie is, like, laughing while frolicking on the beach, running from her boyfriend, and she goes out on the water alone? She jerks in surprise because a two-ton shark is chomping off her legs. Then she’s pulled down, spurting unintelligible things as her whole body is torn apart. I love that scene. Anyway, sharkies, you best not pull that shit on me.
Where’s my marker?
The important thing at the moment is finding the statue. It’s not much further out, if I remember.
I peek out of the water for a second to catch my breath. I squint as light shines from a tower under the shadow of a hill by the shore. I see a small boat sailing near me.
Duck down!
I duck. Then I snort sea water and the water trickles over my eyes. My boyfriend’s snorkeling mask is too large. He’s going to hike over to San Fruttuoso Bay and snorkel tomorrow, and he’ll be using aquatic equipment during the day like a normal person.
I reposition my leaky mask over my face and look down toward the sea floor. A few scattered fish glow green in the light from my eyes. Other than that, it’s just a dark, sandy floor about five meters down. No statue. I gargle more salt water.
Jesus.
Yes, Jesus. Where are you?
I’d really like to return to my dry, warm hotel right now.
I think the effigy is closer to the shore.
One fin at a time, Medusa. One fin at a time.
And there it is! Christo degli Abissi.
The Jesus Christ statue is standing on stone steps underwater, with outstretched arms—glowing green from my gaze—looking right up at me. A few small fish are swimming around a small reef behind him. The marker points to the spot. But I need more air to search. Ready? Well…here goes.
Oh, there’s a shark. He’s a big one. Watch out, sharkie, I’ve got teeth too. I adore these creatures, by the way. They’re cannibals. As a monster myself, I play nice and find eating my own kind to be really gross, but I respect killing machines.
I lost the little fella. I smell him more than see him now. He’s giving me a wide breadth. It must be these snakes snapping back at him over my head.
I’ve changed into Medusa because, honestly, I’m totally freaked out. It’s creepy swimming alone in the ocean at night. I’m waiting for a great white shark to latch onto my legs and tug me down, like in that famous scene in Jaws. Remember that movie? You know when the girl at the beginning of the movie is, like, laughing while frolicking on the beach, running from her boyfriend, and she goes out on the water alone? She jerks in surprise because a two-ton shark is chomping off her legs. Then she’s pulled down, spurting unintelligible things as her whole body is torn apart. I love that scene. Anyway, sharkies, you best not pull that shit on me.
Where’s my marker?
The important thing at the moment is finding the statue. It’s not much further out, if I remember.
I peek out of the water for a second to catch my breath. I squint as light shines from a tower under the shadow of a hill by the shore. I see a small boat sailing near me.
Duck down!
I duck. Then I snort sea water and the water trickles over my eyes. My boyfriend’s snorkeling mask is too large. He’s going to hike over to San Fruttuoso Bay and snorkel tomorrow, and he’ll be using aquatic equipment during the day like a normal person.
I reposition my leaky mask over my face and look down toward the sea floor. A few scattered fish glow green in the light from my eyes. Other than that, it’s just a dark, sandy floor about five meters down. No statue. I gargle more salt water.
Jesus.
Yes, Jesus. Where are you?
I’d really like to return to my dry, warm hotel right now.
I think the effigy is closer to the shore.
One fin at a time, Medusa. One fin at a time.
And there it is! Christo degli Abissi.
The Jesus Christ statue is standing on stone steps underwater, with outstretched arms—glowing green from my gaze—looking right up at me. A few small fish are swimming around a small reef behind him. The marker points to the spot. But I need more air to search. Ready? Well…here goes.
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About A.L. Hawke:
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A.L. Hawke lives in Southern California torching the
midnight candle over lovers against a backdrop of machines, nymphs, magic,
spice and mayhem. With a medical science background, the author specializes in
romantic fantasy and science fiction.
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