Of Prophecies & Pomegranates by T. C. Kraven (EXCERPT)

Hello, dear readers! Today we have an exciting excerpt for you that reimagines Greek myth in unexpected but cathartic ways.

In her debut traditionally published novel Of Prophecies & Pomegranates, T C Kraven reframes the passive myth of the Goddess of Spring into a story of female agency and transformation. This modern, feminist reimagining of the story sees Persephone choosing power — and her partner — on her own terms.

When her mother Demeter, Goddess of the Harvest, tries to force her into an arranged marriage, Persephone chooses freedom instead, forging a pact with the brooding and unexpectedly kind God of the Underworld. But what begins as escape blooms into a partnership unlike any Olympus has ever seen — until betrayal, war and grief turn gods into legends and love into lore.

A bold, spicy fantasy that explores power dynamics and healing through a kink-aware lens, OP&P combines romantic heat with thoughtful representation of consent. This first book in the Dark Fates series sets the stage for more bold and blisteringly romantic mythological retellings that feature queer representation, kink-positive themes, richly diverse characters, and the lore and culture of New Orleans.

Read on for a telling excerpt, as Persephone reunites with Demeter after her time in the Underworld:

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Demeter stood near us on the frozen ground, a small olive wreath in her hand.

A peace offering.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and instead kissed Hades softly on the cheek, reluctantly disentangling from him. He eyed Demeter with cold regard, and I saw her bristle, the urge to chastise me for keeping her waiting warring with the “I’ve changed” act.

“I can be here in a moment’s notice,” he grumbled, shooting daggers at her. A muscle in her jaw jumped, but he simply lifted an eyebrow, daring her to retort. I watched with a heavy heart as Hades stepped back into the cracked earth. With a longing gaze that matched my own, he descended to the Underworld, taking my heart with him. Demeter came to meet me, hand outstretched. I took the wreath and begrudgingly allowed her to embrace me.

“You look pale,” she quipped, stepping back to appraise my body with her ever-critical eye. I sucked in a deep breath, sliding down my mental armor at the jab. There was a time, not long ago, that her words would have wrecked me, but as we walked along the fields and she spoke of the intended work, I found that her well-placed needles and barbs held little power over me anymore.

“You’ll need to start in the East fields, it will be so nice to have fresh flowers around the estate again. You know how dreary it can be without them.”

“Actually, I’ll start in the North, the ground is coldest there, and it will require more energy to break the frost,” I corrected.

It took a few moments for me to realize she’d stopped walking. I turned to see her head cocked to the side, nostrils flaring. Her eyes pierced through me, that same gaze I’d withered under a thousand times before. I stood tall, now.

“So what? You think you’ll just come in here and set the rules now. Is that it?” Her mocking tone bristled, but I didn’t give her the satisfaction. “I’m still in charge here; this is my realm.” I couldn’t help the smirk that lifted the corner of my lips, or the delight that flooded through me at the anger it caused her. “Yes, Mother, it is your realm and look at the mess you’ve made of it.”

“The mess I made?” she asked, incredulous. “Dear girl, if you hadn’t run off like a spoiled brat, circumventing your responsibilities, none of this would have happened!” She was surgical with her cuts, but when I didn’t react, she dug deeper. “I gave up everything for you. Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve worked and sacrificed for, even when your magic wavered, and you throw it back in my face? Embarrass me in front of the whole of Olympus, whore yourself out to that monster—”

The fortress inside my mind fractured at the mention of Hades.

Thousands of years of resentment churned in my gut. I wanted to avoid this, told myself I could grin and bear it, but it turned out my patience had a limit. There would be no more bearing it, not when it came to her.

“Watch your mouth,” I warned, anger rising. Her head reared back, the pleased smile on her face evidence that she knew exactly what she was doing.

“What’s wrong? Can’t handle the truth? That after how hard we worked to find you a respectable match, despite your abysmal control over your powers, you jumped into the bed of the first god to look your way? There is a reason he went after you, Persephone. He’s sought a foothold in the Upper Realm for centuries. You, my petal, were nothing more than low hanging fruit. Why else would he have bothered when there are other eligible goddesses who are surely more suitable to his tastes . . .” Her eyes raked over my body pointedly, a pitiful sigh falling from her lips as though she hated to be the one to tell me such horrible things about myself. I waited for the shame. I waited for the self-loathing.

It never came.

I laughed, the noise unexpected, but undeniable.

“I am never going to be enough for you, am I, Mother? Not as fair as Aphrodite or as resourceful as Artemis, right? You’ve reminded me a thousand times of my shortcomings, made sure that any moment when I felt good about myself, even a morsel, was snuffed out. You think Hades chose me because he wants your realm? He wouldn’t take it if you gave it to him. You think you have power here? You don’t know what true power is, Mother.” I shook my head as another laugh broke through my chest, the revelations of my confessions freeing. “You think there is no world in which he chose me for my mind, for my shade and all the parts of me that aren’t quite perfect, because you never loved me for those things. I used to crave even just one kind word from your lips. I was starved for it, but no more. I don’t need your approval or your love because I love who I am. I am excited for my future and what is to come, and you know what? Your bitter heart can’t take that away from me. You can’t fathom a love as real as ours because the ugliness in your heart has never known what real love is, only stolen lust, and for that, I feel sorry for you.”

The Goddess of the Harvest’s composure snapped, my words striking deep at old wounds. She stalked toward me, hand raised to strike, rage rolling in waves off her body. With less than a thought, shadows ripped around us as my hand came up, arresting her swing. Flurries of dusted snow kicked up on the wind, tossing the silks of our clothing around with wild abandon. Her eyes widened as my chest swelled, and with great satisfaction, I advanced, forcing her retreat. Every step sent a shockwave of power through the air, battering against her until Demeter’s shoulders bowed. I towered over her, my skin rippling with darkness, glowing with righteous fury.

“You will never raise a hand to me again. You will hold your tongue, if you can’t control your cruelty. I am no longer your puppet, your trophy, or your whipping girl, Demeter. I am the Queen of the Underworld, and you will respect me, or I will drag you through Tartarus and toss you into the Pits.”

Her eyes widened, and in them I saw something I never expected to see from her: fear. Her arm trembled in my grasp and, only when I let it go and stepped back, did she make her way to her feet. We stared at one another. Seconds turned to minutes, a stretch of eternity as large as the emotional chasm between us.

“Do you understand me?” I repeated, my voice soft on the dying whirlwind.

“Yes,” she conceded. A moment passed between us, and if I didn’t know better, I would cautiously wager that, for the first time in my life, my mother regarded me as something akin to an equal.

It was a step, the first, I hoped, of many. For the moment, I was content to leave her there, in the bed of thorns she made me sleep in. The sooner I got the work done, the sooner I could return to the Asphodels. A small shadow danced around my wrist, purring and comforting me on the walk toward the villa, a fiercely proud preen on display as it wiggled. From the very depths of its darkness I swore I could hear Hades’s chuckle whispering through it.

Now was the time for new beginnings: A spring awakening.

~~~~~~~

From Of Prophecies & Pomegranates by T. C. Kraven. Copyright © 2025 by the author and reprinted by permission.

Of Prophecies & Pomegranates by T. C. Kraven was published today October 21 2025 by Diversion Books and is available from all good booksellers, including