Persephone, Untold is my most ambitious fiction so far.

With each book I write, I give myself a new challenge. In this book, I have three challenges:

One - create a new origin story for Hades and Persephone that begins in a world before our own where "Hades" and "Persephone" are powerful leaders of an uprising against a brutal tyrant. When "Hades" is executed, "Persephone", the daughter of the tyrant, is not. To this day, she still lives, locked in a hyper-advanced level of stasis, one of the most feared punishments of her race. Though her body is held in silence, her consciousness is not, and she is able to overshadow those whom she connects with in our world. She is aware, but experiences life through the eyes of a much lesser, weaker being on Earth. She lives and dies through them, only to begin again in another life centuries apart. And she is driven by one imperative. To find the shade of Hades and feel his love again, in our world.

Two - bring to life five exceptional historical love affairs as lived through the eyes of those who experienced them: Jeanne d'Arc & Gilles de Rais, Prince Pedro of Portugal & Ines de Castro, Beethoven & Countess Jozefina Brunszvik de Korompa, and Princess Ankhesen-amun of Egypt (widow of Tutanhkamun) & Prince Zannanza of Hatti. These affairs each resonate with something "magical" or "extra" and it was to these lesser known love affairs that I have been drawn to overlay the Hades and Persephone myth as an ongoing story playing out throughout our history in the lives of human counterparts.

Three - to take my reader on an emotional roller coaster ride that will probably have them furious with me at times, but with a plot twist at the end that will make the whole delicious tale worth every moment.

So far, so good.

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PERSEPHONE, UNTOLD

| PERSEPHONE | ABOVE |

It began with him. With the one who was the other half of me—even though I didn't know it; even though I didn't understand a piece of me was missing. But, then again, do we ever realize this? No. Perhaps none of us do until it happens. Until it strikes us between the eyes and we are stunned by the force of it. Until we understand that we are alone until we are found and the one we never sought has destroyed everything we believed to be true. And then, what? We are left in the wreckage of our past, surrounded by the enormity of the future—of the sheer raw expanse of it all. Of the pain to come and the pain you suddenly remember from lives once lived and long forgotten...

But, as usual, I have raced ahead of myself. Who am I? The one who speaks to you now, out of theses symbols and lines of thoughts unformed and reunited here, now, in this moment. I am the one who became aware of many things even though I did not wish for it, or even longed for it. But I have begun to understand we are chosen, and the gods are cruel. They love to watch us suffer. And I have suffered. Perhaps more than most.

I am a daughter of the one you call Zeus. My mother was a mortal, no one special, just a shepherdess caught in the crosshairs of the lust of two gods. One prevailed, as always, in the battle of such titans. Of course, she fell in love. And of course, she lay with the one who would use her for his own temporary diversion and leave her, alone, dishonored, and pregnant. With me.

She never told me. No one did. I grew up alone, a plain girl, with simple thoughts and interests. I helped my mother with her small herd of goats. We wandered the lonely hills of On’eone. She told me stories of love, of wood nymphs and mortals. Of gods become men and woman become goddesses. We would lay on our backs under the star-studded sky and she would point up to the heavens and say to me with a soft smile: "Look there. That is where the gods live. They are looking down at us now. They are watching us." And I would ask, filled with some kind of delicious pleasure: "And do they care about us? Of the things we think, the words we speak?"

Her smile would fade and her eyes would close against the canopy of cold, silent stars. She never answered. And so, I stopped asking. Then, I didn't understand. But now I do. I understand why. And I don't know how she endured. Because I almost cannot.

It is why I write. To ease this pain. To somehow chronicle the utter improbability of it all, of who I am. And perhaps, to achieve what my mother did not.

The love of a god.

No matter what it will take.

Or how long I must wait.

| R’DDUR’N | THE DEEP | 500th CENTURY BCE |

In your world, I am Hades. Your so-called god of the Underworld. A bad translation, but for now it will do. Time enough for clarifications later.

Before I arrived in your world, I was R’ddurn’n. Commander of The Deep. Annihilator of Worlds. Bringer of Death. Bearer of Darkness. At the height of my ascendence, my power was vast: I stood second only to Marduk, usurper of Anu, Lord of Ten Thousand Worlds, Protector of The Deep.

When he began testing his strength against the pantheon, chafing against his lower rank in the ascendence, I saw his darkness, his ambition, his cruelty, and recognized the same in me. I aligned myself to him, used my faint lineage to the royal family, born of a concubine of a lesser royal. Proved my worth and served him well in his brutal coup.

If Marduk were capable of love, he would have loved me as a brother. But he is not. His soul is as black as Void. Instead, he showed his appreciation of me in what he bestowed upon me. Interstellar ships. Several dozen planets rich with resources. And the ultimate proof: one of his three regeneration devices that cannot expire. I could live until the universe reaches heat death and still look about 30 years old. If I wanted. I haven’t decided if I want to yet. It depends how this story unfolds.

After his ascendence, Marduk placed me before Enlil, even before his own father Enki. And they bowed to me. Feared me. The sons of Anu, their blood the purest of all, the true successors of Anu. They bowed because they knew what I was capable of. The weapon Marduk wielded against those who resisted his control. I was merciless, and sadistic against those who stood against him. I shattered worlds, or crushed them, or stripped them of life little by little – and enjoyed it, enjoyed the suffering of those who believed they could withstand the inevitable. I used my power to its fullest extent. No matter how many injuries I sustained, my regenerative abilities were second to none. I had everything I wanted. Power, sex, slaves, obscene wealth, near eternal life. I was a god. Or as close to one as is possible.

Until I fell in love. With the one forbidden to all. I will let her tell you her story, herself. I know she will be here, because wherever I am, she is. We always find each other. Even here, in this sudden, unexpected chronicle of our love that has emerged from a universe-spanning entanglement - hidden behind these sterile words human readers need to communicate - is our love. Our impossible, imperfect, violent, tragic love.

And how it has begun again. Perhaps for the final time.

We shall see.