Curse of Prometheus: A Tale of Medea by Morgan St. Knight‏

Morgan St. Knight live in Atlanta, and is a lifelong student of mythology, the occult, and comparative religion. With more than 25 years of experience as a journalist, Morgan enjoys the occasional foray into fantasyland to escape the grim realities of life. He is currently working on the sequel to "Curse of Prometheus" and is developing a second paranormal series which also takes place in the South.

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How do you fight a god of light who has been seduced by darkness? That’s the challenge Medea Keres must meet. Posing as a wealthy young heiress in modern day Atlanta, no one knows she is the original Medea, the sorceress from ancient Greek legends.

As priestess of the witch goddess Hecate, Medea is charged with hunting demons that would otherwise overrun the world. Now she must face a far greater adversary. One of the twelve shining Olympian gods has turned rogue, violating the edict against human sacrifice. As the body count quickly rises, Medea knows her enemy is getting stronger.

With the help of the underworld nymph Orphne and the hero-god Heracles, she must find a way to unmask the evil so that the other Olympians will take action.

But as she probes deeper into a blood-soaked labyrinth of suspense and intrigue, Medea finds a net of deceit and treachery that will require all of her cunning to escape.


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The man in front of me held up a restraining hand. A hand that, like the rest of him, was changing again, shifting from the image of my father to someone new.

He was becoming far younger. Barely twenty now. The face so familiar, tanned from months on the unforgiving waters of the Black Sea as he sailed with his comrades to my birthplace in Colchis.

I kept myself from looking into eyes that should have been a soft amber-brown. I knew they would be red, and that I would be lost if I glimpsed them. Instead I focused on the hair. A rich chestnut, curling slightly where it met his shoulders. It matched the short beard, streaked through with gold from the relentless sun.

The beard framed a mouth that still had the fullness and softness of youth, not a trace of chapping despite his exposure to the cruel elements. It was a mouth that begged to be kissed and promised to be marvelous at returning it.

I avoided that temptation, though it was hard. Instead I allowed my hand to trace the arm. So well-muscled from his turns at the oars, which he insisted on taking even though he was leader of the band.

He leaned into me, the feeling of his body so familiar against mine. I smelled honey and salt, and a slightly heavier musk wafted to my nostrils now and again. The scent of hardship and deprivation willingly embraced, the sadness of friends lost along the way, and an underlying fear that he would never again see his home.

If the situation had been any different I could have almost forgiven him for taking Jason’s form. Almost, because no matter how much it hurt to see my first love’s likeness again, there was something else too.

This was how he had looked when we first met alone, after he landed in Colchis on the quest for the Golden Fleece. It was enough to remind me the breathless excitement of infatuation which I’d mistaken for love. I’d never felt quite the same way with any other man.

“Sweetly done,” I murmured, allowing my lips to just caress the edge of his ear. “But we have a saying these days. I’m over you.” I pulled back and turned away.

The movement was so subtle I almost mistook it for an errant shadow. Orphne?

I glanced back to my right. The movement came again. It wasn’t Orphne. Nyx had just appeared, quickly. She saw that I was looking, put a finger to her lips to silence any possible giveaway I might make, and just as quickly vanished.

Was she going to help me somehow? She had some tricks up her sleeve, but I doubted they’d be enough to get us very far. Still, she had the one thing I desperately needed now: the element of surprise.

“I was right,” I sighed as I took a few thoughtful paces. “You’ve been stuck on holy Olympus too long. You think these images from my past will hurt me. But you’re wrong. I long ago came to terms with my father and Jason, and their memories. They wronged me, but in revenging myself I committed my own wrongs. I forgave them. I had to, so I could forgive myself.”

There was a slight sound of footsteps behind me. But they were softer than they should have been for a man of Jason’s size.

“And have you really forgiven yourself?”

My veins ran cold at the sound of the child’s voice. My breathing quickened, but my heart slowed so much it might have been pumping lead. My eyes squeezed shut involuntarily at the pain that voice sent surging through me.

A small, cool hand slipped into mine.
“Have you forgiven yourself,” the voice repeated. “Mother?”

Q) What inspired you to write this story?
I have always loved Medea, and thought she would be a perfect hero. Anti-hero, some would say. She definitely has a reputation that’s hard to beat, but if you really look at the myths involving her it’s hard not to be on her side. I wanted other people to see her as I do: a strong woman who isn’t afraid to take action when the chips are down. The big thing people remember about her is that she supposedly killed her kids, but that was a later interpretation of her story that I think was a smear campaign because the ancient Greeks didn’t like the idea of a woman standing up for herself and taking revenge when she was wronged. I address the deaths of her children in this book, weaving a storyline that introduces the real killer (in my world) as her arch-nemesis.

Q) How long did it take you to write?
This has taken years. I did the first write-through between 2005 and 2006, hated it, ripped it apart from stem to stern and did it again, let it sit for several years while I pursued other things, then picked it up again late last year and finished it. In others words: way too long.

Q) What is your favorite thing about writing?
Seeing a story tell itself as I’m writing it. I have only a rough idea where things are going before I start writing, and often the developments surprise me as I’m writing. It’s very much like reading a book, because I often don’t know what’s going to happen next. It’s amazing to have your own book unfold before your eyes.

Q) What is your least favorite thing about writing?
I get bursts of inspiration at all hours of the night and day. It’s one thing to get up in the middle of the night and loose sleep while I start banging away at the keyboard, but it’s another thing when I have to drop what I’m doing during the day and whip out a notebook. It’s hard to do discretely when I’m having quality time with a loved one, but they understand. And I’ve learned to take very succinct notes to lessen that distraction.

Q) If you could be any famous person for one day, who would you be and why?
Buddha. I really want to know what enlightenment feels like so I have some idea whether I’m on the right path.

Q) What is the oldest thing in your fridge and how old is it?
Paul Lynde. I’ve had him on ice since ’82. Seriously, it’s a jar of homemade sauerkraut I put up last October.

Q) What can readers expect from you in the future?
My obituary, if I break down and eat that sauerkraut. Otherwise, I’m well along in writing the sequel to “Curse of Prometheus”, and that book will introduce a character who will get her own spinoff series. The first book in that series is also well underway. I hope to have both done by early 2015.

Kindle Giveaway

To win, you just have to follow Morgan on Twitter @MorganStKnight and send a tweet that says "Entering giveaway for CoP". Only one tweet is necessary, but you must send that one tweet to know you're interested in entering the giveaway.

Additionally, Morgan will be giving away 2 copies of "Curse of Prometheus" each week of the tour. Everyone who enters for the Kindle giveaway on a given week is automatically entered for that week's book giveaway.

And yes, if you win a copy of the book, you are still in the running for the Kindle giveaway.
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