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Hard as Steel

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Laura Kaye

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“This hollow of the world, round like a sphere, cannot itself, become of its quality or shape, be wholly visible. Choose any place high on the sphere from which to look down, and you cannot see bottom from there. Because of this, many believe it has the same quality as place. They believe it is visible after a fashion, but only through shapes of the forms whose images seem to be imprinted when one shows a picture of it. In itself, however, the real thing remains always invisible. Hence, the bottom - {if it is a part or a place} in the sphere - is called Haides in Greek because in Greek 'to see' is idein, and there is no-seeing the bottom of a sphere. And the forms are called 'ideas' because they are visible forms. The (regions) called Haides in Greek because they are deprived of visibility are called 'infernal' in Latin because they are at the bottom of the sphere. Such, then, are the original things, the primeval things, the sources or beginnings of all, as it were, for all are in them or from them or through them.”

AsclepiusPage 76Page 77
Book:Hermetica: The Greek Corpus Hermeticum and the Latin Asclepius
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“When Medusa was killed, her powers were plundered. She was pregnant with her son Chrysaor and the winged horse Pegasus who were born from her severed neck. Pegasus was immediately captured and made to bring Zeus Medusa's roar and the flash of her eyes, which he used as his thunder and lightning. In book three of the Bibliotheca (3.10.3) Apollodorus describes how Athena drains the blood from Medusa's veins and gives it to Asclepius, Greek god of medicine and healing. The blood from her left side is deadly poisonous, while the blood from her right side brings life. Asclepius's powers to cure and raise the dead were thereby stolen from Medusa.”

Medusa MythologyAsclepius
Book:Re-visioning Medusa: from Monster to Divine Wisdom
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“Hazel studied Reyna’s outfit with concern. “Your sword’s in the truck. Don’t you want to take a shield or something?” “Nah. I’ve got my cloak. It’ll turn aside most weapons.” Reyna brushed the collar of her sweater wrap. Instantly it unfurled into her usual purple cape. Frank’s smile faded. “Does my cloak do that?” “See you, guys!” Reyna climbed behind the wheel. “Wait, does my cloak deflect weapons?” Frank called after us. “Does mine turn into a sweater wrap?” As we pulled away, I could see Frank Zhang in the rearview mirror, intently studying the stitching of his cape.”

Frank ZhangHazel LevesqueReyna Avila Ramírez Arellano
Book:The Tyrant’s Tomb
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“My body, blood, and soul fumed. I no longer felt the ground under my feet. I couldn’t see anything but him. The very heart in my chest burned and raged and set my skin ablaze. My fingers strained, feeling every spark, ember, and flame even through my bones. Water lined my eyes. “I don’t get what’s between us or what you want. It drives me mad.” “Yeah? And don’t you think I hate it, too?” Laken stumbled back, shaking his head before aiming his glare back at me. Golden locks hung over his face, slightly damp from the rain. His eyes were as stormy as the sky above us and twice as fierce. “It kills me,” he confessed; the muscles in his throat pulsed. Somehow, he’d dwindled the space between us. I could smell the honey and mint. The scent that once lingered on my bedsheets. “It kills me to see you and not touch you. It kills me to hear your voice knowing it won’t say my name like it once did.” Laken looked at me as if I was something more, something to be hurt for. “Being around you kills me.” Each word, a wound. Laken and I both panted, both toeing a dangerous line. Traitorous. Treacherous, even. But still, I pushed further. Straightening my spine, I lifted my chin and scoffed. “Good,” I said, deep and slow. Daring to step closer, only inches remained. “I hope it hurts. I hope you pray for mercy. And I hope it leaves you aching when you go to bed. I will make it my life’s mission to ensure that you are in pain every day for the rest of your life, thinking about me.” Laken devoured the distance parting us, leaving nothing but him and me. My eyes flicked to his lips, as his did to mine. Heart to heart, heat from his chest pummeled into me. I felt him so close, yet not close enough. Never close enough. Never far enough. Our lips were separated by a thin line of love and hate. And that line was beginning to blur. Slowly, torturing ourselves, taunting ourselves, he whispered, “Do your worst.”

Slow Burn RomanceSexual TensionEnemies To Lovers RomanceMagical Encounter
Book:Second Time's a Charm
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“Every ‘I’m bored’ is an invitation. Not to fix, but to step back and let creativity take the wheel.”

Parenting QuotesMindful ParentingParenting ToolsChild Led LearningCreative ParentingDigital Detox ParentingBoredom Is ProductiveImagination Over ScreensParenting Without RescueScreen Free Ideas
Book:Digital Detox Parenting: The Science-Backed Guide to Raising Screen-Free, Emotionally Resilient Kids: Neuroscience-Backed Strategies for Lifelong Resilience
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“I have also found that with bright ideas, the wind outside seems to carry these ideas to me. Is this right my angels? “Yes, you’ve got it in one. Ideas are often carried on the wind, or breeze as a gentle way of giving you a new concept. The wind fairies, the sylphs, help us with this process, making sure that you get the next angel idea on the wind. That is why on some wind free days, particular muggy ones, the air seems oppressive and close. It is also because it is not a good time to get fresh ideas, on the breeze.”

Inspirational QuotesWindAngelsFaeFairiesElementalsIdeas QuotesBright IdeasAngelic GuidanceWind Sylphs
Book:Fairy Sparkles
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