Excerpt from Westside Harpy:
The flames doused until only a very pissed off Hermes
in full, golden armor, wings spread, and a sword
covered in gore remained.
My heart fluttered a bit at the site of the god. He was
always so subdued in my old Victorian, dressing in
sweats and t-shirts or tracksuits like a regular person.
Right now, Hermes was in full Olympian mode.
He took in the scene until his dark gaze landed on
me. Whatever he saw, propelled him to me faster than
my eyes could track. I
hadn’t even seen when or where he put away his shield
and sword.
His hands cradled my face. “Are you injured?”
“Pretty banged up.” I grinned and glanced at the
petrified Scylla. “But, not as bad as the other guy.”
Hermes smiled back. His adoration lighting up the
entire room. The smile dropped as a downpour of
people-sized infernos dropped from the sky, morphing
into Olympians.
Buy Westside Harpy here