Architects of Illusion (Echoes of Olympus, #1): Diana, Goddess of the Hunt

Castle in the Mountains by Gray Artus

Castle in the Mountains by Gray Artus

Welcome to Olympus, where the Muses of Greek Mythology are charged with the responsibility of discovering, inspiring, and guiding the young incarnations of legends past until they once again take the form of greatness.

Embark on an enchanting journey through Architects of Illusion (Echoes of Olympus, #1), a YA fantasy novel series inspired by my backyard neighbors, Biltmore Estate, in honor of George Vanderbilt‘s extraordinary legacy. 

Join me, and a cast of brilliant film composers, as we awaken your imagination to the magic of the mountains during this year’s international A to Z Challenge (representing #TeamDamyanti).

For a PHOTO TOUR of Biltmore Estate’s marble statue of the Goddess, Diana, click HERE! Want to read more? Visit my A to Z “Sneak Peeks” page!

Diana, Goddess of the Hunt

I STOOD on a serene hill, watching the sun dip behind majestic mountains, the last of its rays kissing copper flashing that ran along the slated crown of Olympus. It was peaceful, this secret place surrounded by silent hemlocks, the air heavy with the promise of rain.

“I never tire of the view,” a voice whispered. I tilted my head to glance at the woman stepping in beside me. From her golden halo of hair that curled into elaborate knots, to the silky sage chiton hugging her powerful frame, she oozed with power.

“What’s your name, child?” she asked, her emerald gaze oddly protective.


She studied me with the keen eye of a hunter. “Your path is fraught with danger, Anise. Be wary of whom you align yourself with. Not everyone is what they seem.”

“My…path? I don’t–” I stammered, my mind wrapping around the unexpected warning.

“You must look beyond who you are to who you must become. Only then, will you be free,” she cautioned. She snapped her head towards the horizon where the day was slowly swallowed by the stars. Turning her back, she moved swiftly towards a small temple at the top of the slope, a quiver of arrows swaying across her back.

“I don’t understand. Please,” I called out, running after her. “Wait!”

A guttural growl sunk into my spine, rooting me to the spot. A foot away, a dwarf of a dog stood between me and answers, his tiny snout sprouting a wicked grin, baring the razor sharp teeth of a puppy. Its coffee coat was cropped close to the skin, delicate ears pulled back against its narrow skull, daring me to move.

“Venator! Come!” the woman commanded.

The eager pup tore back to its master, hopping onto a pedestal the woman had balanced upon. She reached a hand to nuzzle its nose moments before their skin slipped into stone.

© 2014 Samantha Redstreake Geary


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