Scorned Women: Medusa: Scorned Women, #1

By Faith Marlow

Medusa.

 

The name alone is frightening.

It chills the blood and conjures images of a terrifying monster.

But could there be more?

A daughter.

A protector.

A lover.

A victim.

 

Legend tells us how she died.

Now it is time to discover how she lived.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sweetly Twisted Books
• Release date: Jul 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201987909

Book preview

SCORNED WOMEN:

MEDUSA

FAITH MARLOW

CONTENTS

A Note From The Author

Warning

On the Medusa of Leonardo da Vinci in the Florentine Gallery

Glossary

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Epilogue

Sneak Peek of Being Mrs. Dracula

Faith Marlow

Prologue

Chapter 1

Other Books by Faith Marlow

About the Author

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

Text Copyright © 2020

All rights reserved

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious and are products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual events, or locales or persons, living or dead are entirely coincidental.

Edited by That Editor Chick

Cover by Rue Volley

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

Firstly, thank you for beginning this new series with me. I am beyond excited to see where it leads. So now that you’re here, I thought it was only fitting to talk about why.

So many times we hear a story, fictional, on the news, or just talking to our friends and family, and we can’t help but say, that isn’t fair. They didn’t deserve that! That was my favorite character, why them? As an author, I can shape my own worlds. I can create and destroy. I can also give second chances. At its heart, this series is about second chances. A better life. A happily ever after. Justice for the forsaken. Or perhaps the chance to get sweet, sweet revenge.

Each volume of this series will be dedicated to a scorned woman, starting here with Medusa. It’s time to set things right for some women who’ve been done wrong through the ages. It may not always be pretty or romantic, but I’m going to do my best to give these women a fair shake. Vindication. It might be getting the love that got away. It might be destroying a city and dancing through the ashes. Who knows? I hope you continue to take this journey with me.

Every woman has a story. It’s time for some to get a new one.

WARNING

This story contains scenes that may be triggering for some. These scenes have been treated as gently and briefly as possible while conveying that the incident did occur.

And yet, as Greco-Roman history makes clear, when the gods devalue women, the people will too.

-Prof. Elizabeth Johnston, The original ‘Nasty Woman’

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You only have to look at the Medusa straight on to see her. And she's not deadly. She's beautiful and she's laughing.

-Hélène Cixous, The Laugh of the Medusa

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The only book that is worth writing is the one we don’t have the courage or strength to write. The book that hurts us (we who are writing), that makes us tremble, redden, bleed.

- Hélène Cixous, Three Steps on the Ladder of Writing

ON THE MEDUSA OF LEONARDO DA VINCI IN THE FLORENTINE GALLERY

BY PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

It lieth, gazing on the midnight sky,

Upon the cloudy mountain peak supine;

Below, far lands are seen tremblingly;

Its horror and its beauty are divine.

Upon its lips and eyelids seems to lie

Loveliness like a shadow, from which shrine,

Fiery and lurid, struggling underneath,

The agonies of anguish and of death.

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Yet it is less the horror than the grace

Which turns the gazer's spirit into stone;

Whereon the lineaments of that dead face

Are graven, till the characters be grown

Into itself, and thought no more can trace;

'Tis the melodious hue of beauty thrown

Athwart the darkness and the glare of pain,

Which humanize and harmonize the strain.

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And from its head as from one body grow,

As [ ] grass out of a watery rock,

Hairs which are vipers, and they curl and flow

And their long tangles in each other lock,

And with unending involutions shew

Their mailed radiance, as it were to mock

The torture and the death within, and saw

The solid air with many a ragged jaw.

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And from a stone beside, a poisonous eft

Peeps idly into those Gorgonian eyes;

Whilst in the air a ghastly bat, bereft

Of sense, has flitted with a mad surprise

Out of the cave this hideous light had cleft,

And he comes hastening like a moth that hies

After a taper; and the midnight sky

Flares, a light more dread than obscurity.

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'Tis the tempestuous loveliness of terror;

For from the serpents gleams a brazen glare

Kindled by that inextricable error,

Which makes a thrilling vapour of the air

Become a [ ] and ever-shifting mirror

Of all the beauty and the terror there—

A woman's countenance, with serpent locks,

Gazing in death on heaven from those wet rocks.

GLOSSARY

Chiton: This piece of clothing was popularly worn both by men and women in ancient Greece. This rectangular piece of linen was draped around the body in many different ways, the most popular method requiring fibulae, or brooches, to keep them in place on the shoulders and a belt at the waist.

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Peplos: This body-length garment was the most common attire for women in ancient Greece. It was a long, tubular cloth with the top edge folded down about halfway, so that the top of the tube was now draped below the waist and the bottom of the tube was at the ankle. The garment was then gathered about the waist and the folded top edge pinned over the shoulders. The folded-down top of the tube gave the appearance of a second piece of clothing.

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Himation: This particular piece of clothing first emerged somewhere around the sixth century BC. It was worn both by men and women, used as a cloak and worn over the chiton.

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Strophion: Belts were common among the Greeks, and it was a fashion choice to put a belt around the waist to cinch in the chiton. This breast belt or breast band was quite popular among women in ancient Greece. In a way, it was the ancient Greek version of the modern-day bra, worn as an outer layer instead of underneath the clothes.

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For full descriptions and images of the terms used, please visit Ancient History Lists https://www.ancienthistorylists.com/greek-history/top-10-famous-clothes-ancient-greece/

CHAPTER ONE

The Island of Sarpedon, 527 B.C

(Somewhere in the Aegean Sea, near the island of Lesbos)

A young girl sat under the shade of a fig tree, tracing designs in the sand with a stick and flicking it onto her feet. She wiggled her toes to feel the sun-warmed grit between them. Her father had sent her to play while he attended to her mother, and she had done just that, but that had been hours ago. She had long run out of things to occupy herself with. She had collected seashells. She had dug for treasure— twice. She had teased the crayfish that lived in the tide pools, pulling them from the holes when they latched onto her invading stick. There was only so much a girl could find to do on an island.

Medusa, where are you? her father called.

Coming, Papa, she answered, tossing the stick and running back to their home.

There’s my beautiful girl, he said, sweeping her up into his arms. He brushed strands of golden hair free that had come loose from her braids and stuck to her sweaty forehead.

Is the baby here? she asked excitedly.

Yes, but there were two babies in Mama’s belly, two sisters.

Two sisters. Her cherub face beamed with excitement, the biggest of smiles. Can I see them, Papa? Please!

Of course you can, but I need you to understand something. She couldn’t understand why her father wasn’t happy. Your sisters are… different, Medusa. They don’t look like you, me, or Mama.

Yes, Papa.

Phorcys held his eldest daughter’s hand, knowing the sight of her sisters would be upsetting to her in the least, and terrify her at worst. He was a grown man and seeing his new daughters had given him such a fright that he nearly fainted. They had come out of Ceto screaming, not as an infant should, but in a rage and with an awareness that no child so young should possess. He could see it in their enormous, wide-open eyes that they hated him. He shivered, doing his best to wipe the blood and tissue from their scaly skin with trembling hands, and was relieved when he could hand them to their mother.

Don’t be afraid, he whispered to his perfect child.

Come, Medusa. Come meet your sisters. Her mother coddled two squirming bundles to her breasts. She could hear them suckling loudly, grunting, and struggling against their swaddling clothes. Their mother looked to the child on her left first. This strong girl is Stheno, and this is Euryale. She nearly leaped from your father’s hands when he brought her to me.

Medusa gasped and stepped back from her mother and sisters, wrapping around her father’s leg. They’re scary, Papa.

Shame on you, Medusa. They are perfect, beautiful, Ceto scolded. Her outburst scared the infants and they began to cry. Their screams sounded like the screech of harpies, ear-splitting. Now look what you’ve done. You made your sisters cry. Get her out of my sight, Phorcys.

Ceto, she’s just a child. Her father defended her. Her mother refused to acknowledge him. She could not be bothered to look away from her monstrous children to acknowledge him or her eldest daughter. Her coldness was as palpable as a winter breeze, cutting right to their skin.

I’m sorry, Mama. Medusa’s lip quivered, fighting back the tears. She pulled away from her father’s hand and ran outside. She didn’t stop running until she was on the highest point of the island, falling into the tall grasses that swayed in the breeze. Finally, she broke down, allowing herself to cry. She was young, but she knew her sisters’ arrival meant nothing would ever be the same again. But worst of all was her mother’s rejection. It stung her heart like a slapped cheek. She had been precious to her just the day before. Her life had been filled with happiness and love, but now she was an outcast, kicked from the nest far too soon.

Stheno and Euryale grew quickly. Within a month, they were cutting teeth and weaned from the breast. At six months, they would have passed for three-year-old children. At one year old, they were nearly the same size as Medusa, who was six years their elder, but stronger and faster. Their animosity toward their perfect sister grew with them. Now, halfway to their third birthdays, they were the same size as grown women— but not human.

Where are you, Medusa? Stheno shouted, her voice echoed in the cavern, repeating her.

Yes. Come play with us, sister. Euryale chimed in. The wicked girls broke into laughter, their voices becoming grunts and snorts, almost like swine.

Medusa peeked out from around the corner, her vision in the dark caves not nearly as keen as her Gorgon sisters. She had considered blowing out the little lamp that she carried with her when she realized they had followed her in, but without it, she was virtually blind. Their father had warned all three sisters about the hazards of playing in the caves, and it was just that threat that had drawn her there. Stheno and Euryale seemed intimidated by his warnings and typically didn’t have any reason to set foot inside. It was just the advantage she needed to get away from them.

Gorgons, the name their complacent mother had bequeathed upon