Title: Twist of Fate
Genre: NA time travel romance
Word Count: 81,000
Twenty-two-year-old goddess Pandia’s shaking in her Jimmy Choo’s.
When the NYC socialite travels through time to attend a party, she meets Julius Caesar, and convinces him to abandon politics for gardening. Her father, Zeus, summons her to present-day Olympus after he discovers her meddling eliminated the month of July. To teach her to respect fate, he strips her power and sentences her to a stint of mortality in ancient Pompeii.
Pandia intends to do her time, leave destinies untouched, and be home before the next sale at Saks Fifth Avenue. Instead, she’s mistaken for a prostitute and arrested for inciting a riot. Forced to serve as masseuse in Pompeii’s Gladiator School, she’s assigned to Caladus, a gladiator whose washboard abs test her vow to remain uninvolved.
To escape Pompeii, Pandia must prove she respects mortals’ fates. But she’s falling for Caladus, and her time’s running out. Mt. Vesuvius is rumbling.
First 250 Words:
Pacing outside the Great Hall, I yanked down my red top with trembling fingers, and wondered what I’d done to piss my father off this time.
We’d discussed my Marco incident last week.
I nibbled my lip and smoothed my hair. Maybe Napoleon and that silly war?
This couldn’t be about Christopher, because it wasn’t exactly my fault Chris turned those ships around and returned to Spain.
Four guards dressed in starched military uniforms flanked the entrance. One nodded, opened the door, and gestured for me to proceed.
I swallowed the wad of fear lodged in my throat and swept into the Hall.
My father, Zeus, sat with my stepmother in gilded Ikea chairs at the end of the receiving room, matching scowls on their tanned faces. Hera’s eyes met mine across the expanse, and a smirk lifted her lips. She nudged Father’s arm. He grimaced and loosened the collar of his Armani shirt.
Sunlight filtered through the stained glass windows, spilling rainbows across the marble tiles. As I walked through the aisle leading to the receiving area, the click-click-click of my high heels echoed in the stillness surrounding me. Normally, gods dressed in designer clothing mingled in the alcoves between the pillars, gossiping as they waited to speak with my father.
My steps faltered. The fact that it was just me, Father, and Hera, didn’t bode well. With considerable will, I resisted the urge to flee to my penthouse in Manhattan. Not that hiding would do much good. Father could teleport me to the Hall in seconds.