Out of Olympus (Book 1 & 2)

1

What would the punishment be this time? A year in Hades for giving it to Zeus’s mistress du-jour? Seemed like a fair exchange, Triton thought. It could be worse. He could be bridled from any sexual activities for a decade—which would suck to say the least. Anything, just not that! He’d never survive it. Not sating his sexual urges for a week bordered on excruciating, a decade would be pure torture.

At least in Hades, he could screw some desperate souls, and the year would pass in delicious debauchery. He could deal with the heat and the stench, and surely, Father’s other brother, Hades, wouldn’t make the stay too uncomfortable for him.

Despite his thoughts, Triton kept his head down and his eyes averted, not willing to piss the king of gods off any further. He cringed convincingly as Zeus lifted his arm and sent another thunderbolt across the blue sky. A sound as loud as a thousand horses’ hooves cracked through the white clouds that hung over Olympus. For sure, his uncle gave an impressive show right there on the terrace of his home overlooking the mortal world of Greece.

Better to play the repentant servant to Zeus. There was no way he was getting out of this mess unscathed. Not even his father Poseidon could help him right now—not that Triton wanted to ask the old man for help. All he’d get would be a lecture.

Besides, in his current state, Uncle Zeus wouldn’t listen to anyone, least of all his brother.

Whatever punishment Triton was due, however, would be worth it. By the gods, how Danae’s pale thighs had wrapped around him when he’d thrust into her. She’d screamed her pleasure to the heavens and professed he was a better lover than Zeus until he’d collapsed in her arms, unable to move another limb. And that was exactly how Zeus had found him: bare-assed in her bed. Talk about in flagrante. He wasn’t going to smooth-talk himself out of that one.

Triton took a deep breath and filled his lungs with the sweet scent of ambrosia that drifted his way from just inside the palace. He eyed the spectators, who’d gathered around them. It hadn’t taken long for them to assemble—one word to the right person and the news had spread like wildfire. Zeus liked an audience as much as the next god, especially when he was ready to hand out punishment.

“Did you hear me?” Zeus’s voice boomed through the warm air, hitting him like a hurricane sweeping over the sea. Unlike any storm over the world’s oceans, this was one Triton couldn’t calm, not even with his powers as the god of seafarers and sailors.

Triton lifted his head to meet his uncle’s glare but was careful not to show his defiance. “Of course, Zeus.”

Zeus looked nothing like the mortals depicted him in their books and paintings. He was no old man with a white beard. No, the god of all gods was a virile man looking no older than thirty-five in mortal years, with a chiseled face as beautiful as Michelangelo’s David, and as hard as the marble the famous artist had used. How unfortunate, Triton mused. It made competition for female entertainment on Olympus darn stiff. Only around women Zeus turned on his charm that made any female melt right into his perfect body—or under it, which was the preferred position for any woman when around the god.

Again, a blast of air came Triton’s way, threatening to upset his balance.

“Then choose.”

Choose? What did Zeus want him to choose between?
He would have done well to listen this once, but his uncle’s tirades could go on for hours, and what was the point of taking any notice when he couldn’t change the outcome anyway? However, this time a sinking feeling spread in Triton’s gut as if he was about to gamble away his life.

“Uh, I …” he stammered.

An angry grunt was Zeus’s reply. “Option one or two. I’m leaving you a choice, but only because my brother has bartered for leniency toward you. Personally, I would crush you with my bare hands. Frankly, boy, I’ve had it with you. Would you like me to remind you of all the things you’ve done?”

Triton’s memory was working just fine. He sure needed no reminder, but he knew better than to anger Zeus while his punishment still hung in the balance.

“Ares’ house still stinks to this day after you dumped a barrel of fish in his atrium and let it rot there.”

Triton remembered all too well. Served the bastard right though—it had been payback for Ares destroying any chances he might have had with the goddess Phoebe by spreading vicious (and of course entirely untrue) rumors about Triton’s sexual prowess—or lack thereof. Any god worth his salt would have reacted the same way.

“Not to even speak of how you seduced the Nymph Metope the night before her wedding. Is nothing sacred to you?”

Well, the dainty creature had asked for it—she’d virtually begged him to take her.

Dear God, please show me how to make my husband happy, she’d prayed. So Triton had taken it upon himself to show her a thing or two. Well, maybe three.

“Now choose before I change my mind!”

Triton glanced around the crowd, trying to find a friendly face among it. Somebody had to help him out. He couldn’t very well ask Zeus to repeat the two choices. If he knew that Triton had been daydreaming while he’d let out his tirade, there’d be more-than-hell to pay, and all choices would be taken away.

No, whatever he chose now would ultimately be better than what Zeus handed down if angered even further.
Triton spotted Eros and Hermes, two of his best friends, in the crowd. Maybe they could help him make a decision without Zeus noticing.

As always, Eros’s tunic was slung low across his muscled chest, the material flowing elegantly down to his knees, covering his strong thighs. His bow and quiver hung over his shoulder. He never went anywhere without it. He stood over six feet tall, his dark brown hair cropped short. His friend Hermes, equally tall and strong and as usual wearing his winged sandals that could take him anywhere, stood next to him. He was a crafty fellow and could be relied upon to help him out of a dilemma.

With a barely perceivable move of his head, Triton motioned to his two friends. Both moved their hands in front of their bodies, displaying a number of digits.
From his fist, Eros let one finger emerge. Perfect! His friend had understood him. Triton’s gaze wandered to Hermes’ hand. Two fingers stretched out from his friend’s fist.

By the gods! Those two weren’t in agreement?

What now?

Should he go with Eros, the one who’d never tried to shoot him with one of his arrows even though he deserved it? Not that they worked on a god, but they stung like Hades for a week. Or should he trust Hermes, who’d always had his back when it counted but occasionally played some nasty pranks on him?

Which one of his friends had his best interest in mind? Eros or Hermes?

Another thunderbolt indicated Zeus’s impatience and told Triton his time was up.

“One. I’m taking option one.”

Triton caught Eros’s wicked smile and Hermes’ disappointed stare before Zeus thundered on, “Very well, then. So you think you’re up for the challenge?”

Triton swallowed the rising lump in his throat. “Challenge?”

Instinctively, Triton drew his shoulders back to get ready for battle. He took an extra deep breath of oxygen, re-energizing his body. If there was a challenge to be met, he was ready. How hard could it be?

“Frankly, I thought you would have chosen Hades instead.”

Oh, fuck. He could have had fun in the Underworld. No wonder Hermes had suggested that option. The two of them could have hung out since Hermes knew the river Styx and the path to the Underworld. Every time Hermes escorted another soul into Hades, they could have visited and had fun. Damn, why hadn’t he listened to him?

Triton glanced at Eros and mouthed what the fuck? only to get a lopsided grin as a response.

What, for Olympus’s sake, had he chosen instead? A sense of foreboding struck him out of nowhere. With bated breath, he looked at Zeus, avoiding his eyes and instead staring at his mouth. There was a pause which felt like an eternity before Zeus finally continued.

“It is decreed then. Triton, you shall be cast out into the human world and only come back when you have found a mortal woman who loves you not for your beauty but your kindness and selflessness.”

Zeus’s laugh echoed against the palace, then rolled down the hills into Greece. In his shock, Triton barely heard what the mortals would perceive as thunder. He couldn’t be hearing right. The mortal world? And under those conditions? Had Zeus gone off his rocker?

“That should keep the bugger busy for the next century,” he heard a spectator whisper.

“Like any woman will ever see past his looks—not a chance in Hades,” another replied and laughed.

Didn’t he know it? Triton was graced with his mother’s beauty: blond hair, blue eyes, and a classical nose. Coupled with a perfect body, there wasn’t anything Triton could physically improve upon. There wasn’t a day that went by when he didn’t get a come hither look from a woman—goddess or mortal. Or scornful looks from gods or men who saw him as clear competition for the affections of their women. But it appeared that his good looks could become a hindrance in his quest to return home.

Triton tossed Eros a pissed off look. Why on earth had his friend—make that ex-friend—given him such bad advice? Eros’s smug smile said it all—he had a secret agenda. He’d wring the love god’s neck as soon as Zeus was gone, and afterwards, he’d find out Eros’s motives.
Hurt him first, ask questions later.

“You will also be stripped of all your godly powers while you reside on earth,” Zeus continued. “Any god helping you with your challenge will be punished.”

The big god let his gaze sweep over the crowd, lingering more than a few seconds on Eros and Hermes.

“This also goes for any gods not assembled here today.”

Well, that took care of Dionysus. The quartet was practically inseparable. But while he wasn’t present at Triton’s sentencing—and most likely out carousing somewhere in the human world—Dionysus would surely come to his aid if need be.

On Olympus, friendship meant more than kin—considering that with all the inbreeding going on, practically everybody was related anyway.

Both Hermes and Dionysus were his cousins, while Eros was a cousin twice removed (and if Triton could help it, completely removed after the stunt he’d just pulled, giving him such disastrous counsel).

“In addition,” Zeus droned on.

Was the old god still not done? What else could he add that would make this any worse than it already was?

“… any god found interfering with Triton’s efforts to secure the love of a mortal through his kindness and selflessness, shall be …” Zeus made a dramatic pause. In the silence that followed, one could have heard the tear of a virgin drop to the ground—not that there were any virgins left on Olympus thanks to the unquenchable libido of Zeus himself.

“… rewarded.”

Cheers greeted the free-for-all-let’s-screw-Triton-over announcement. His uncle was one sick bastard.

Many of the Olympians were assembled, all wearing their long flowing tunics, some in white, some in more cheerful colors. Most faces looking back at Triton were familiar.

He spotted Artemis, who was decked out in her hunting gear, soft leather boots caressing her long muscular legs. Triton caught her eye and winked at her. When he was back after his sentence, he’d make a play for her. It would be fun, especially since he knew his annoying half-brother Orion coveted her too. Now, that would be a worthy challenge: which brother to bed her first.

Now that Triton had received his punishment, he reconsidered his assessment of Danae, Zeus’s current mistress. Looking back, she hadn’t been such a great lay after all. At least she wasn’t worth the kind of harsh revenge Zeus had taken on him. All she’d done was lie there with her legs spread. She hadn’t even sucked his shaft. He was in the right mind to go back there and make her suck him off so at least the punishment fit the crime.

But of course, that wasn’t possible. Zeus would make sure Triton wasn’t going anywhere but down the mountain into mortal Greece. And he would keep a tight leash on his mistress from now on—that was, until he lost interest and moved onto somebody else. Which would probably happen even before Triton returned from earth.

“So, it is done.” Zeus turned and walked across the terrace toward his opulent white marble palace.

“Off to Greece then,” Triton mumbled to himself.

Zeus spun around and gave him a nasty grin. “Greece? You’re not going to Greece.”

“But, where, if not—”

“You’re going to America.”

Triton’s heart missed a beat. America? The land of bad television, consumerism, and people obsessed with beauty? What were the chances of finding a woman there who could love him for anything but his beauty? While Triton often ventured into Greece and Italy for some erotic adventures, he’d always avoided the Americas. They held no interest for him. Of course, Zeus knew that fact full well.

A moment later Zeus was gone, and the spectators dispersed. Triton looked over to where Eros and Hermes stood and noticed Orion grin just behind them. The god of the hunters was a royal pain in their collective butts. There was no love lost between them. Triton graced him with an undignified look, but even now, Orion could barely contain his glee before he turned and walked away.

His two friends tried to remain positive.

“Don’t worry, you can handle it,” Eros claimed.

Triton slammed his fist into the love god’s stomach. “That’s for giving me such brilliant advice.”

“Hey, I meant well.”

“Should’ve listened to me instead,” Hermes said with a smug smile on his face. “But no, you thought I was tricking you. Now, would I do that to you?”

“Yes, you would, and you have,” Triton said, ignoring his friend’s mock-innocent tone.

“Not this time. Hades would have been a blast.”

Like he needed to be told. Hades might have a bad rep among mortals, but a crafty god like Triton could have made it work.

“Maybe you should have listened to Zeus in the first place, rather than daydreaming again.” Eros caressed his bow.

“Or maybe you shouldn’t have made a play for Danae in the first place.”

“Hindsight is twenty-twenty, but that’s not going to help me now. So, what’s the plan? How are we getting out of this one?” Triton asked and gave his friends an expectant look.

“We?” Eros and Hermes responded in unison.

“You’re on your own on this one,” Eros proclaimed.

Hermes nodded. “Ditto.”

“Jerks!” Triton didn’t get a chance to continue chastising his friends. A moment later, he felt a strong force rip through his body, transporting him off the mountain.

“Eros, payback’s a bitch,” he yelled, but wasn’t sure if the love god had heard him.

Great, Zeus wasn’t even giving him time to pack for this trip.

2

“A blind woman? That’s your brilliant plan?” Triton shook his head at his friend Dionysus who nodded eagerly.

“Of course. It makes perfect sense. A blind woman won’t love you for your beauty, because she can’t see you. Now you just need to pick one, and you’re on your way home.”

The god of wine and ecstasy had a self-satisfied grin on his face. His dark looks were in stark contrast to Triton’s blond hair and sun-kissed skin. Dionysus was a handsome god, Triton had to admit—at least to any woman who was into the dark and brooding look.
Triton’s bare ass still hurt from his rough landing in a stone garden behind an old house. If it had been Zeus’s idea of a joke to drop him there, naked and without any means of procuring clothes, then Triton failed to see the humor in it.

At least Dionysus had heard his calls immediately, just like any god could hear a mortal’s call for help if addressed by his name. He’d listened to Triton’s story and acted. After supplying him with a decent set of clothes, Dionysus had disappeared again.

Triton felt better now that he was dressed, and luckily Dionysus’s taste in fashion was impeccable, as was his eye for size. The jeans fit like a glove, hugging Triton’s backside tightly.

As he’d walked through this strange new city, map in hand like a hapless tourist to follow Dionysus’s directions, he’d noticed more than one woman admiring the fit of his jeans—both front and back. Well, he wasn’t complaining.

He wandered through this little town with its cobblestone streets, narrow alleys, and old brick and wood houses with their large ornate balconies and quaint inner courtyards to find the place where Dionysus expected him. But it was all too cute for his taste—wherever here was.

Triton glanced back down at the map in his hands. Right, Charleston, that’s what it said. And if that wouldn’t have explained it, he read the plaque on the building Dionysus was leaning against: Charleston School for the Blind.

“Let’s go,” Dionysus suggested.

Triton put his hand on his friend’s arm to hold him back. “You can’t just walk in there. It’s a school.”

“Yeah, but it’s a school for the blind. Nobody will see us.”

Triton had to admit that on one hand Dionysus’s plan was ingenious. If he could find a blind woman to romance, she would fall in love with him without being aware of his good looks, and Zeus’s challenge would be met. He’d be home in no time. But to go traipsing into a school for the blind and take advantage of a more than vulnerable woman—that went even beyond what Triton was prepared to do.

Hesitantly, Triton entered the sheltered courtyard of the school and surveyed the scene in front of him. Children from the ages of about five through not older than seventeen were assembled in the grassy area. Some sat on benches, others stood around in groups, talking loudly. He couldn’t see any teachers. Where were they all? Wouldn’t at least one person be on duty to watch out for the kids?

Triton let his gaze sweep over some of the older girls.
“You can’t possibly expect me to ...” Triton started and swallowed hard. “They are kids. Your father clearly said woman, not girl. I’m not going to—”

“I wish you wouldn’t call him that. I don’t even call him Father. What a father he’s been so far!” Dionysus was off on one of his rants. “All he wants from me is to set him up with gorgeous women. Can you imagine? My own father? And he started when he was still with my mother, as if ….”

Triton tuned out his friend’s ramblings. He’d heard it all before: how Zeus had betrayed Dionysus’s mother—which technically wasn’t even correct since Dionysus’s mother Semele had merely been Zeus’s mistress—and how he felt abandoned, and at the same time, used by him, and how it had influenced Dionysus’s relationships with women. Complete psychobabble if anybody asked him.

“Dionysus, focus!”

“You’re not the only one who has problems, Triton!”

Triton tossed him an impatient glare. “But mine are a bit more urgent right now. And this—” He gestured at the blind kids. “—this is not going to work, so let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Yes, but not without a woman for you,” Dionysus agreed.

“What and take her with us? As in abduct? That’s gross even by your standards,” Triton retorted.

Dionysus slapped his flat palm on Triton’s forehead. “Of course not, you idiot. We’ll watch her, follow her and find out where she lives. And then you’ll find a pretext to approach her and get to know her. You’ll have her panting for you in no time.”

The plan wasn’t bad. But Triton didn’t feel like patting his friend on the back for his ingenious idea. He felt repulsed by it.

“Okay, then,” Dionysus continued. “Which one of these little fillies do you fancy?” He pointed at a group of three girls who looked to be around seventeen. All three had fresh young faces attesting to their youth, but this wasn’t Olympus, where any girl over fourteen was considered a woman. This was the mortal world, which had different standards.

They were kids, hardly women.

“Go on, pick one,” Dionysus urged again. How low did he think Triton would go? But before he could tell Dionysus to forget the whole idea, he heard a scream from behind.

“Pedophile!”

The scream filled the courtyard a moment before a cane hit against Triton’s calf.

“What the fuck?” he hissed and swung around to face his attacker.

The cane belonged to a boy who was no older than ten. While he was blind, he didn’t seem to have any problems figuring out where to hit Triton again and promptly repeated the assault.

“Stop!” Triton yelled.

“Pedophile! Help!” the boy screamed again, attracting more attention from his classmates now. Led by the boy’s shouts, more of them came toward him and Dionysus.

“Fuck,” Dionysus ground out. “This is not good.”

“You think?”

More kids surrounded them, and suddenly they all started screaming and shouting. Words like pedophile, jerk, and kidnapper flew freely around the courtyard. He and Dionysus fended off the furious blows of their canes.

“Great, now see what you’ve gotten us into,” Triton complained.

Triton felt another painful hit against his thigh, followed by one on his ass before he heard an authoritative adult voice.

“What on earth is going on here?”

Triton looked in the direction of the voice and saw one of the teachers look out from a window. The woman stared right at him. Damn, she was obviously not blind.

“Pedophile!” several of the kids yelled again.

“Police,” another one screamed.

“We’ve gotta get out of here! Run!” Triton called toward his friend who was in the midst of fighting off a vicious attack from a couple of twelve-year-olds. Kids shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near those deadly instruments they wielded right now—those canes.

Triton had to get the hell out of there before anybody could give an accurate description of him and deliver him to the authorities, cutting his sojourn in this lovely Southern city short.

Triton ran past Dionysus, grabbed him by his arm and jerked him away from the two little assailants. In the distance, a police siren blared already. Who’d ever said the South was slow?

He exchanged frantic looks with Dionysus and launched into a sprint out the school gate.

“This way,” Dionysus ordered.

Triton followed him along the narrow side street. He tripped over a missing cobblestone, but caught himself in time and continued running.

The siren came closer and could only be a block away now. Dionysus dove into an alley, Triton close on his heels. After half a block, his friend turned left into an old overgrown cemetery.

Spanish moss hung from the weeping willows, and weeds graced the old tombstones. The filtered sunlight shining onto the graves made for an eerie atmosphere.
Breathing heavily, Triton followed Dionysus’s example and let himself fall against a gravestone. His chest heaved from the unexpected exercise. He wasn’t used to running. As a sea god he was an excellent swimmer, and he missed the water, but on dry land he was merely average. To really relax now, he’d give anything to feel the ocean’s waves break against his body.

“That was close.” Triton exhaled and wiped a pearl of sweat off his forehead.

He’d had it with Dionysus for today. Seducing a woman was one thing, going after a blind one—and one who was barely a woman at that—was something even he as a god could not stomach. Sure, the gods weren’t exactly known for their humane treatment of mortals, but to seduce a blind teenage girl? Only the most depraved of gods would sink that low. And for all his callousness, even Triton drew the line somewhere.

“I need a drink now.”

“Sounds like an excellent idea,” Dionysus agreed. He wasn’t the god of wine for nothing.

“Without you,” Triton barked.

Out of Olympus is a humorous and sexy paranormal romantic comedy series following the romantic adventure of four gods in Charleston, South Carolina: Triton, Dionysus, Hermes, and Eros. It's full of mischief, laughter, comedic scenes, sensual love scenes, witty dialogue, and a little slapstick. Interference by Zeus and Hera, and other Greek Gods, is guaranteed!

Book 1: A Touch of Greek

Book 2: A Scent of Greek

Book 3: A Taste of Greek

Book 4: A Hush of Greek

Out of Olympus (Books 1 – 4)

Exclusive Hardcover editions will be shipped from the UK. Large print paperbacks will be shipped from Ingram in the US.

I'm sorry, but the collectors edition hardcovers are exclusive to my store and cannot be purchased at any retailer.