Is The Gods Of War: Memoir Of A German Soldier Worth Reading?

In our tenth year together, the King of the Gods, Aetheon, threw the grandest wedding I had ever seen on the peak of Mount Olympus. And at the ceremony itself, he calmly told me he had cheated on me. "Go on with the rite, or stop it right now. It's your call." He swirled the wine in his cup, bored. He told me that just before the ceremony began, he had sex with a mortal girl. The world went cold around me. I stared up at the king standing high above me. "Do you love her that much?" His brow creased slightly, as if he thought I was making too much of it. "Not really. She's a fragile little mortal, nothing more." "You've just been so proper, so well-behaved these past ten years. Never a flaw I could find. It was interesting, for once, to be adored by someone who didn't know any better." He turned the thunder ring on his finger as if none of it mattered. "Don't worry. If you choose to go through with the ceremony, you'll still be my queen—no question. And if you want to throw a fit about it, fine. Throw your fit. I won't stop you." I stood frozen on the altar platform. I had waited ten years for this day. And now the perfect ceremony in front of me pressed down on my chest until I couldn't breathe.

“But I have lifted my voice in pain to pray to you too. Am I irrelevant? I have done that since I was born. Do I not matter? Do the gods segregate as well?” “Feisty…” he replied, but before he could continue, I glanced at the edge of the cliff for a second, then turned back to him and smiled. “I refuse to be useful to these people you love so much. Even in my death,” I said as I jumped off the cliff. It was the beginning of my complicated fate with the gods and the end of my suffering with werewolves.

I had seven days left to live. My father was the God of War. My mother was the Goddess of the Harvest. I was born with divine power running through my veins, and like all gods, I should have lived forever. But I'd been poisoned by Godsbane, a plant so deadly that even the Healer had no cure. I forced myself back to the temple through the pain, one step at a time. That was when my husband Caelum, the King of the Gods, came home. His expression was grave. "Lyra," he said, "your sister Selene has collapsed. Her divine blood is completely spent. The Healer says she won't survive the month. The only way to save her is for someone who shares her bloodline to give her half their divine blood." "You're twins. Your blood is perfectly matched." He paused. "Would you reconsider donating half of yours?" "I know it's a lot to ask." He hesitated, then reached into his robe and placed a divine decree on the table before me. It called for the revocation of my title as Queen. "But if you won't save Selene, I'll have to honor her last wish. She says she wants to marry me before she dies." I looked at the decree for a long moment. "Don't worry," he said, his voice softening as he took my hand. "Once this is over, I'll burn it myself and marry you again as my Queen. Lyra, you know you're the only one for me." I looked at him trying so carefully not to push too hard, and something hollow settled in my chest. He wasn't the only one. Even my parents, when I'd refused before, had turned cold and driven me from our home: "If you'd rather watch your sister die than help her, then get out. Don't ever come back." If that was what they all wanted, fine. I had seven days left anyway. "All right," I said. "I'll give her the blood." My father and mother were pleased. They said I'd finally come to my senses. I finally became the Queen they'd always wanted me to be. A good daughter. But when I died, why did they all cry?

On Mount Olympus, one law is ironclad: a god must never fall in love with a mortal. But Aresios, the God of War and heir to the King of the Gods, bound his very soul to mine. For me, he endured ninety-nine bolts of divine lightning and knelt before the Olympian altar for three days and three nights. Ichor soaked his armor, yet he smiled and kissed my lips. "Elara, don't be afraid. I want only you." The gods finally relented, on one condition: he had to leave behind a pure-blooded divine heir. After that, the words I heard most from Aresios were, "Just wait a little longer." The first time, it was to wait while he bedded another goddess. He and Cassia, the Goddess of Fate, lay together for thirty nights, until his golden ichor quickened in her womb. The second time, he told me to wait. Their first child was a girl, unable to inherit his divine mantle. The gods demanded a son. So he lay with Cassia for another ninety-nine nights, until she once again conceived a divine child. Just when I thought the ordeal was over, their newborn daughter was struck by Hydra's venom. The entire divine realm was convinced I had done it. As I was thrown into a cold bronze cage by the river Cocytus, Aresios stood outside the door, his eyes crimson. "You know what Hydra's venom does to an infant god. Why would you harm our daughter?" That one word. Our daughter. I was too numb to feel the pain. When the bronze cage door opened again, I unclenched my blood-drenched fists. This time, I would not wait.

Matthew O'Donnell is a respected soldier that loves his family as well as his work. The things of his past haunt him down that made him dig himself in work. But an accident that happened will force him to go back home.Will it force him to face the haunted past?Will Matthew give in and listen to his mother’s wishes and live on a safe and happy life?Find out as the story progresses

Dionysus finds sanctuary in the human realm, stowing away from the heavenly gates of Olympus. He wears the scars of defeat, melancholy, and betrayal in his heart the moment he set foot on earth, vowing never to return until he has regained his pride and honor. However, at love's playful coincidences, The wine god alias Kim Yeojoon, secret CEO of Victoire Wine Company, dreams of an unfamiliar face that had not only awakened his cold heart, but has left him chasing for more answers. With a few pulls of power in his midst, he finally was able to put a name to that face. Behind that otherworldly beauty is Charon, a famous model under the name Han Sejin, the ferryman of Styx that guides the souls of the dead to the afterlife. Will the stirring of his heart's desire be a sign of a new beginning? or will it be the cause of his misery, with an unknowable prophecy looming over him?