After a steamy encounter with Asgard's Dark Prince unlocks her genetics, an unsuspecting scientist discovers not only are Gods real, she is one.
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When Shannon boards her flight to London, she's stunned her seatmate is actor Tod Mogroddine. Their...
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Fear and rage swept me far into the night sky. I screamed my anger in flashes of lightning, and eventually, when the worst of the tempest passed, I cried. Sobbing, the winds slowed, carrying me and a flood of tears and rain to the ground.
As dawn crept above the horizon, I found myself on a steep mountain looking down at brilliantly blue waters that stretched out in front of me. A light breeze caressed my face with the scent of salt. Wiping the tears still overflowing my eyes, I was finally calm enough to consider Loki's words.
I knew he was right.
It's why I had reacted so badly. Despite knowing he was right, I hated he'd forced me to acknowledge it immediately. Even if some of my friends believed me, I risked them resenting me over something completely out of my control. I'd had friendships blow up in the past over jealousy. The pain of being stabbed in the back by someone trusted never fully healed.
Would they actually fear me?
Intellectually, I recognized people often feared what they didn't understand or couldn't control. That certainly would apply in this case. Rationally, I saw the point Loki had been trying to make. I didn't like it, damn it, but it made sense.
What about my family? Are they like me?
My dad had passed away ten years back, but my mom and two siblings lived in British Columbia. Mom told me our background was Irish and First Nations, tracing our lineage back through the Nlaka'pamux First Nation, centred around Lytton BC.
Where did the god genes come from?
I thought about the stories my mom had told me when I was little, stories of Beaver and Coyote bringing the salmon to the people, Sasquatch protecting the forests, and the Wild Woman who steals misbehaving children.
Were these First Nation legends based on actual gods?
Knowing gods existed, that actual magic existed, it made me wonder what was real and what wasn't. Everything I thought I knew could be wrong. It was a lot to accept, and I pushed those thoughts away.
I considered how my family might react if they weren't like me and didn't have enough god genes. I loved my family, but they weren't always very nice. My mom had my older brother when she was young, only nineteen, and she wasn't the most mature of individuals. She was prone to passive aggressive attacks, as I'd seen during arguments with my uncle, our only other living relative, aside from my immediate family. He was even worse. I tried to avoid him for the most part. Both of them were champion grudge keepers. Growing up with them was probably why I'd tolerated my ex-fiance's verbal abuse for so long.
Telling my mom or my uncle about what had happened with me, or offering them Asgardian mead, would be like throwing a hand grenade into a box of fireworks. There was no way it would end well.
My older brother was totally different and more similar to me. Liam was a book worm. He loved his movies, theatre, and talking about the past. He was an English and History teacher in the town we'd grown up in, living just down the road from Mom. Despite the seven year difference in our ages, I was closest to him. I spent most of my time with him and his wife when I came to visit. I didn't think he'd resent me, but on the other hand, he and his wife were happy with their life the way it was. My brother didn't do well with change, with chaos. He liked things predictable.
