Twist of Fate

By Marlie May

"Legally Blonde meets Gladiator in this volcanically hot time travel romp through the streets of ancient Pompeii." ~ Laney Kaye, Author of HAWAIIAN HURRICANE

Twenty-first century Greek goddess Pandia is shaking in her Jimmy Choos. A few weeks ago, she traveled back in time to attend a party, where she accidentally suggested Julius Caesar abandon politics for gardening. Her father, Zeus, summons her to modern Olympus after he discovers her meddling eliminated the month of July. To teach her the importance of fate, he strips Pandia's goddess powers and sentences her to a stint of mortality in ancient Pompeii.

Pandia refuses to let her punishment get her down. She'll do her time, leave destinies untouched, and be home in time for her next shift at the local animal shelter. Instead, she's mistaken for a prostitute and arrested for inciting a riot. Sentenced to serve as a massage therapist 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.

Twist of Fate guarantees laugh-out-loud moments, plenty of swoony gladiator romance, on-the-page heat, no cheating, no cliffhangers, and a happily ever after.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marlie May
• Release date: Oct 3, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215643570

Book preview

Chapter One

As I hurried down the broad, sweeping staircase leading toward the palace’s atrium, I tried to convince myself I wasn’t about to meet my doom.

Or be thrown into Tartarus, the Greek god’s version of the pits of hell—where I’d spend an eternity avoiding the clutches of Hecatonchires, the many-armed giant.

You think a drunk guy with two arms is bad? Try one-hundred. And his lips…!

I shuddered. Not going there.

My heart a solid lump in my throat, I halted outside the Great Hall. The atrium’s fifty-foot ceiling seemed to press on my shoulders, the weight too heavy for my frazzled nerves.

The guard standing in front of the ornately-carved double doors grunted, then swept open the door and waved for me to enter.

After giving him a jittery smile, I swallowed, tightened my spine, and strode into the Hall. I paused in the entry and gulped. Where was everyone?

My father, Zeus, sat with his wife in fancy, gold-trimmed thrones at the end of the room, matching scowls on their faces. Hera bumped Father’s arm, and he looked up and grimaced. With a flick of his hand, he undid the top button of his Armani shirt.

Sunlight drifted in through the windows along the aisle, creating rainbows on the mosaic tiles. As I walked toward the receiving area, the click-click-click of my heels echoed in the stillness surrounding me, each step crying out a warning. If this had been a normal day, gods would be gossiping in alcoves between the pillars while waiting for an audience with their king.

The fact that this was me, Hera, and Father didn’t look good.

Hera leaned forward in her chair, and her blonde hair swung across her shoulders. She wore a black and gold Givenchy dress and, as much as I hated to admit it, it looked fantastic on her. Her ice-blue eyes seemed to pierce my chest as she watched me walk toward her. The witch hated me. Of course, Father had cheated on her with Mother. Not that Mother could help herself. She was Selene, Goddess of the Moon. How could she be expected to maintain self-control when her orb was full?

I came to a halt in front of the dais and tried not to flinch under Father’s white-hot gaze.

Pandia. His sigh ground through my bones. You’ve done it again.

I…I… Could I get any more tongue-tied around him? He’d become an expert at reducing me to a crumbling heap by the time I turned five. Right after Mother dropped me off for a weekend at Olympus that turned into multiple lifetimes. Can you be a little clearer?

Thunder rumbled above the coffered ceiling. Never a good sign.

Julius Caesar, he said.

Let’s go back in time and party with some Roman guys, my half-sister, Aphrodite, had said.

They’re so hot, she’d said.

No one will find out, she’d said.

I should’ve known better. Every time I trusted her, I was the one who wound up dealing with our Father’s wrath.

You know we reserve time travel for educational purposes. He raked his fingers through his white hair, making it stand on end. Just because you can shift to other Earth time periods doesn’t mean you’re allowed to travel into the past whenever you feel like it. Each time you do, you screw up a mortal’s destiny.

 I didn’t mean to cause problems. My words sputtered from me. While sharing a bottle of wine, I casually suggested to Julius that he should think about the negative impact he made on others when he conquered the world. He asked what he could do instead, and we talked about gardening. Nothing’s more relaxing than digging in the soil. He—

Enough, Father shouted, and thunder rumbled overhead again. "You’re so busy convincing others to think about their actions that you never consider your own. I will not tolerate your interference any longer."

My stomach muscles quivered, but I held myself still. I only wanted to help.

Hades knows I’d tried to be a restrained, respectable goddess since I finished college and moved back to Mt. Olympus. As king of the gods, my father could do whatever he wanted. While I…Well, let’s just say that the life of a goddess could get monotonous. It’s boring around here, I whispered.

A lightning bolt screamed across the room, leaving Hercules’s portrait with a unibrow. I squeaked and ducked when a second beam zipped so close to me the aroma of singed hair filled the air.

You’re the Goddess of Light, Father shouted, making the rafters shake. If you spent more time developing your assigned career, you wouldn’t be bored.

You know that’s only an honorific title, I said. Apollo has the sun wrapped up. The stars belong to Astraeus. Aunt Eos won’t let me anywhere near the dawn. What’s left? Goddess of the LED? When Aphrodite said we—

Don’t shift the blame onto your sister. Father drummed his fingers on the arm of his throne. This isn’t the first time you’ve been involved in something like this. Don’t forget the Columbus fiasco.

I stiffened my spine. I did not tell Chris to turn all those ships back to Spain. Although, I had casually mentioned that explorers should realize that indigenous people might resent being indoctrinated into a new way of life. And Julius and I barely talked.

You altered the past, Father said. After your little talk, Julius abandoned politics to grow daisies. Hera suggested we watch the Fourth of July fireworks display in D.C., but July no longer existed. I had to go back in time, wipe Julius’s mind, and return him to the path he followed before you intervened. You know I hate scrambling their brains. Shifting forward, he braced his hands on his knees. It’s past time you learned to think about the result of your actions.

So, he saw me as selfish, did he? I couldn’t stop the crushing feeling from building behind my ribcage. It seemed I’d never please him. Please her.

Please myself.

Blinking, I stared through the windows behind him, struggling to maintain control. It was bad enough I broke down in front of Father, but Hera thrived on weakness.

For whatever reason, you always end up interfering with the important ones. Father lowered the end of his magical staff to the floor and leaned it against his knee. If you chose simple men like goatherds or cowboys, this would not be a big issue.

Goatherds? No thanks.

Cowboys were another matter altogether.

When your mother left you with me, he said. I promised to raise you well. Instead, I let you run free. He cut a glance at Hera and cleared his throat. But I can’t keep covering for your mistakes any longer. Your punishment will set an example for the other gods.

Punishment?

Hera dimpled a smile Father’s way but fed me a decidedly different one. I swear. Her teeth had points.

We thought something similar to community service would do nicely. Father shifted on his seat until his back faced Hera.

He grinned and winked at me.

I glanced back and forth between them, but couldn’t figure out what the gesture meant.

Actually, Hera said. I thought Troy would be the perfect location for learning opportunities.

You know Pandia’s afraid of horses, Father said.

Hera sighed. True. Are you sure you won’t reconsider 1776 Virginia, then?

His scowl made a black fog appear along the edges of the room. There’s a revolution going on during that time.

What’s a little musket fire here and there? The look she sent me could level a forest. It’s still a fantastic era.

I chose Pompeii, Father said.

Hera huffed.

Pompeii was…oh, yes, in Italy. You realize this makes no sense. How will doing community service in Pompeii teach me to leave people alone?

I want you to observe the impact of a major Earth event without giving in to your urge to interfere, he said. When I see you’re able to leave fate alone, I’ll bring you home.

I tapped my chin. I had a few things planned for next week, but my calendar for this week was clear. How long will this take?

Longer than you may think. You’ll need to know Latin. He dipped his magical staff toward me, casting a spell. 79 AD will give you plenty of chances to observe mankind.

Hold on, there. I darted up the steps, squeezed between the thrones, and grabbed onto his arm. I thought you meant modern Pompeii. I had no problem flitting back in time for a brief visit, but how could he expect me to spend more than an hour in the ancient past?

We were talking no AC. No internet. No mocha lattes.

Hera squinted up at me. We can’t let her go dressed like that. Taking Father’s staff, she poked it my way.

In a flash, I wore a toga and gold sandals. Definitely an odd look for me.

Father tilted his head, scowling at Hera.

What? she said with a shrug. She looks good in white.

His brow furrowed as he sought inward, sifting through my potential future in this outfit compared to my other. "Yes, yes, a toga could work. The slyness in his gaze sent anxiety skating along my spine. What in Hades was going on here? Promise me you’ll stay away from important historical figures while you’re there. Observe, but don’t intervene, no matter what happens around you. Learn to respect destiny. You’re not the only one with a fate that must not be changed."

A wave of concern washed over me.

Why was he bringing up my fate?

Something odd was going on here, but I couldn’t pin it down. Just a sec. You want me to go back in time and observe? Isn’t community service about doing good things for others? And Pompeii’s the place with the—

Pandia. His face flamed. You question my judgment?

No. Of course not. I directed my attention to the floor. Exactly what big event are we talking about here? Dread curled down my spine. I had a sneaky suspicion that—

Hera tipped her head back and cackled.

Shooting another broad smile at me, Father waved his magical staff my way.

Power blasted through me, and Mt. Olympus disappeared.

Chapter Two

Ilanded hard on my sandals and trotted a few steps along a stone road before skidding to a stop.

My toga drooped down my arm, and I yanked it back over my shoulder. Hera’s draped cloth thing was an utter disaster. Other than Givenchy, the woman had zero fashion sense. If I didn’t locate a belt soon, I’d wind up naked.

People bustled around me as if I hadn’t magically appeared in front of them. Had my Father made me invisible? That would be cool. I’d have a hard time interfering if no one could see or hear me.

To test my theory, I grabbed the arm of a woman standing nearby.

Her eyes slid down my body, and she wrenched away. How dare you? she said. Huffing, she hustled down the road, her creamy gown swishing across her calves.

Okay, not invisible.

Spinning in place, I studied the area. I stood on a stone street with buildings lining each side of the road. People strolled past me with baskets hanging from their arms. Some stopped at roadside stands to barter for fruits, vegetables, and pieces of meat. Others haggled for clothing or household goods.

I caught my sandal on the uneven surface and fell against someone warm and solid. Turning, I couldn’t hold back my gasp.

Hades, help me now.

The man’s linen tunic hung to his knees, revealing well-defined calves. He’d belted it in with a strap of leather, which accented his narrow waist. By the definition in his arms, he bulked up by using his muscles for true effort, not by taking steroids or pumping iron at the gym like guys did back home.

I sighed, because who wouldn’t? He was cute, from his dark auburn hair flowing around his shoulders to his sandaled feet.

He grunted as I blinked up at him. Deep brown eyes studied me in return. Careful, mistress. His low, husky voice did intriguing things to my hormones, making them perk up and zip through me like liquid fire.

It might be too late for careful. Sorry. Not sorry. If this was an example of Pompeii men, I was in deep trouble.

Any chance this man was a cowboy?

Wait. No.

I yanked on my imaginary reins, pulling my craving to a halt. No interference, right?

I growled.

Someone further down the road called out, Caladus!

Mr. Pompeii, a.k.a. Caladus, gave me a brief smile before striding away.

I stared after him, trying not to drool. Who would’ve thought a scrap of linen sashaying back and forth across a man’s backside could be such a turn-on?

Stick to the plan, Pandia, I whispered hoarsely. I’d barely arrived in Pompeii, and my libido was already hosting a coup on my brain.

I’d promised my father I would remain uninvolved, and I needed to stick to that promise.

Per his request, I observed.

Everyone went about their business with serious expressions on their faces. I truly couldn’t understand what it must be like to only live fifty or sixty years. As an immortal goddess, I’d live forever. Nothing would ever harm me. These poor people were fragile. They needed to be protected.

After getting shoved out of the way on the street one too many times, I scooted over to the sidewalk and leaned against a building. I stood for what felt like eternity, or at least twenty minutes, my attention focused on everyone. Brushing aside a few pesky flies that seemed determined to land on my face, I waited for Father’s big event to commence.

Nothing happened.

Well, other than a near miss when a man striding down the sidewalk almost ran over me. He had the nerve to leer before continuing.

Other men strolling past also gave me suggestive looks.

Please. Did I appear on the prowl? Surely, they could see I had a mission to fulfill.

I avoided eye contact, a tactic that worked well enough with the average creepy dude in Manhattan.

Eventually, I got tired of standing and sat on a wooden bench. Sweat dribbled down my back and soaked through my clothing. I crossed my legs and yanked my toga up before it slid to my waist. No wonder the toga-clad statues at Mt. Olympus clutched their outfits with one hand while the other rose as if they waved. They weren’t being social. They were trying to avoid full body exposure.

Whenever the breeze kicked up, a stinky odor drifted around me, like the smell of those blue outhouse things you had to use when you went to a fair. A tall urn stood beside the bench, and a peek inside confirmed the smell’s origin. Yuck. Rising, I hurried back to my street corner.

But I soon grew tired of studying others. To make matters worse, a steady stream of men clustered around me. A few asked me to stroll into an alley with them, but jeez, did I look like I’d jumped off the chariot yesterday? They were so persistent I had to tell them to get lost.

By late afternoon, I began to reconsider my vow to stay uninvolved. While observing was easy, it wouldn’t prove to my father I wasn’t selfish. He’d mentioned community service and, last I knew, the true spirit of community service was helping others.

Perhaps I could shorten my sentence by twisting the rules a bit. Like people did in their everyday lives, I could do my own, goddess-inspired version of paying it forward. Something small and helpful that wouldn’t have an impact on the future. Then Father would teleport me back to Olympus.

A simple task wouldn’t interfere with anyone’s destiny.

For example, I could seek out a local official and subtly introduce him to the idea of electricity. If they had power, they could…No! Hold on. Electricity would be taking things too far.

But what else could I do?

The street I stood on had been closed to all but pedestrian traffic. To my left, it converged with three others, forming an open area with a fountain in the center. Clear water trickled from a faucet into a pool below, creating an area for dipping. Women filled jugs and hauled them away.

Watching them gave me an idea, and I hurried toward the square.

Can I carry your water home for you? I asked an old woman. Her fingers, as gnarled as the distant branches of an oak tree, clutched the handle of the jug, and her back was hunched from a wasting disease. Surely, she needed help.

She stumbled backward, her gaze razing me from my sunburned shoulders to my painted toes peeking from beneath my toga. Get away from me, demon. She waved her arms as if wild animals drew near. Her squawk caught the attention of others nearby. Some gaped, while a few swore.

I backed away from the woman, my eyebrows shooting to my hairline. I’m sorry. I’ll assist someone else. Go on with whatever you were doing.

Her lips turned down and she scurried across the square, water slopping over the top of her jug.

I was turning to the next candidate when I got a good look at the fountain spout. My jaw dropped, and I knew I must be seeing it from the wrong angle. With a shake of my head, I focused on a man filling his jug.

Can I help you carry your water? I asked as politely as I could with the image of a semi-erect penis spout lodged firmly in my mind.

He grinned. Now that is something I have not heard from one such as you before. He leaned forward and lowered his voice. My wife would kill me, however. Hefting his container onto his shoulder, he strode away, whistling.

I offered my water-carrying services to others, but the men universally leered at me and the women acted as if I insulted them.

So much for this brilliant plan. Retreat seemed the wisest option, so I sought out the shade in front of a building. 

My day from Hades continued until the sun hung low on the horizon. A stiff breeze picked up and lifted my toga away from my legs, leaving behind goosebumps.

People packed up their wares and pushed their carts down the streets. Others closed and locked wooden doors across the fronts of shops. Rubbing my arms, I hovered beside the fountain, praying I’d find a task that would impress my father before it got dark.

Eventually, I stood alone. No people to help and, I realized ruefully, none to observe. If I’d missed my major Earth event, I might be stuck here until the next one.

With cupped hands, I drank water from the penis spout. I lifted my butt up onto the lip of the fountain and thumped my golden sandals on the side. Pompeii lacked streetlights, and the place was as creepy as the Harpy Tomb, the god’s version of a dark, scary alley.

A young woman wearing a toga like mine entered the square and strolled toward me.

May I help carry your water? I asked when she came near. It seemed silly to keep with my earlier plan, but what else could I do?

Confusion clouded her features. I am not here for water. Nor are you. Leaning against the fountain, she toed a stone with her leather sandal before flashing a glance my way. Busy?

Excuse me? I swept my arm toward the silent square. We’re alone.

"Things have been slow. More so with the events going on. She gestured to a large stone structure that seemed to be hosting a party. But when the games conclude, we will work."

I squinted through the gloom at the torch-lit building. Shouts and screams drifted along the breeze, but I had no idea what they were doing inside. Work, you said. You’re looking for business? We spoke the same language, but I’d begun to believe the citizens of Pompeii used a dialect my father’s staff didn’t translate.

I strained to see her in the dim moonlight. Hawk-like nose. Olive skin. Dark hair pulled back at the nape of her neck. Rail thin, her head only came to my shoulders.

It is decent work for a woman, she said.

What exactly do you think we’re doing here, anyway? I asked.

When she chuckled, I smacked my forehead. Sometimes, I was clueless.

I’m no prostitute. I glared down at the drapes that had caused me nothing but trouble today. Forget the belt. I needed a wardrobe makeover. Stat. My father gave me this outfit.  

Her lips twisted. "My father dresses me, as well. The evil man is strict, however, and expects me to use my toga and report my earnings to him each morning."

I’m not talking about a pimp, I said. I meant my real father, Zeus. He gave it to me.

She shook her head. Call him what you will. Mine goes by Otho, but I imagine he would prefer the name of a god instead.

I snaked my arms across my chest, holding in my shivers. Nothing has gone right for me today, and this sure tops it off.

Such is the life of a woman, is it not? she said. I hope to marry someday and put this career behind me. I have my eye on a widowed goatherd who lives in the hills near Herculaneum.

Hades, what was it with the goatherds? I’m sure you could do better than that.

Her eyes moved down my body, her eyebrows rising. You, perhaps, but not me. You are lovely. My goatherd has a brother if you are interested.

I snorted. No thanks.

Looks will not last forever. And Rufus has five goats.

Back to the toga. I saw lots of men wearing them today. Are they prostitutes, too?

Men wear them with respect. Women wear them without it. She shook her head sadly. This is the way of the world.

Not the world I’d lived in, back at Olympus. Well…That wasn’t quite true. Men could be jerks, no matter the era.

Where have you been that you do not know all this? she asked.

Far from here. Very far from Pompeii, in fact.

One person was to blame for my current situation.

Hera.

Who was dead meat.

Chapter Three

After the games ended, men streamed in our direction.

While I cringed about the idea of what she was doing, Flavia led one away. I turned down the others who crowded around me and slumped on the ground behind the stone fountain.

I wasn’t offended by sex. Hades, the older gods fooled around wherever and whenever they chose. My father leading the pack. We younger gods and goddesses were part of a new trend. We weren’t picky; we just acted like modern humans, in that we preferred to be in a relationship before we got intimate.

But Flavia…She was only a teenager. She should be planning for college, going to the movies, flirting with boys. Not having sex with strangers.

I wanted to stomp over and wrench her and the man apart. Take her home and talk her into a new profession.

I didn’t like it, not one bit. But I was only here for a short time. What could I do?

Sometime later, she took a break, sitting beside me in front of the fountain.

A boy about fourteen entered the square and dropped down onto the dirt near Flavia. He nodded at me. I am Demetrius. His voice squeaked, and color rode his