Oh. My. Gods.
If Phoebe Castro can keep her grades up and have another stellar cross-country season, her dream of attending USC with her best friends is only a track scholarship away. She’s made all her plans, so it’s a complete shock when her mom announces she’s marrying a mysterious stranger and moving them half-way around the world—to Greece.
Phoebe’s stuck on a secret island in the Aegean attending the super-exclusive Academy, where her new stepfather is the headmaster and the kids are anything but your average students—they are descendants of the Greek gods, super powers included. That’s right, Greek gods are no myth! If Phoebe thought high school was hard, she knows this is going to be mortal misery.
Securing that scholarship seems like Phoebe’s only ticket out of Greece, but training and maintaining her grades will be grueling, even without a sabotaging stepsister from Hades and a gorgeous guy—what a god!—who just might be her Achilles heel. One thing is for sure—summoning the will to win and find her place among the gods could be Phoebe’s toughest course yet.
The Greek gods get a makeover in this romantic odyssey of mythic proportion.
Between the Pages
Serfopoula — Want to visit the island home of the Academy? You totally can. Serfopoula is an uninhabited island about three miles northeast of Serifos in the Aegean sea. Don't believe me? Check out Google maps.
The Academy
- Fact! Greek philosopher Plato founded a school in 387 BC and called it the Academy (named for the place where it met).
- Fact! In 529 AD, the Roman emperor Justinian ordered the closing of the school.
- Myth? The school never really closed, but was relocated to the tiny island of Serfopoula by the Greek gods.
Cover Statue — That hottie on the cover is more than a hunk. He's a hunk of stone. Agias was a 5th century BC Thessalonian prince who, like Phoebe, was an athlete--an Olympic champion boxer. Attributed to the sculptor Lysippos, Agias lives in the archeological museum at Delphi.
Advance Praise
- “A delightful story with enough romance to make a truly happy ending.”
- —Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty
- “Childs shows a keen sense of history and a talent for incorporating ancient ‘myth’ into a modern context. A clever, well-researched read.”
- —Athena, goddess of wisdom
- “Phoebe is not just an athlete—she is a role model.”
- —Ares, god of war and patron of athletics
- “This novel will wind up on many keeper shelves—or there will be thunderbolts to pay.”
- —Zeus, king of the gods
News and Reviews
- “Riding the wave of Rick Riordan’s Percy Jackson series ... the mythological concept elevates the usual high-school dramas of cliques, romances and scandals to new heights. Funny and light, this tale is a romance of Olympian proportions.”
- —Kirkus Reviews
- “this is a really fun, funny, and heartwarming story”
- —advanced.reader
- “The characters are distinctive, and each portrayal of their god or goddess remains in tact within the distinctiveness.”
- —The Story Siren
- “Childs plucks readers from their everyday lives and drops them onto a mysterious island where the myths of ancient gods are alive and well in their modern day offspring. Oh. My. Gods. is a witty, well-defined and realistically imagined escape for teens and adults who enjoy a romantic fantasy.”
- —Darque Reviews
Excerpt
After the fourteen hours in a cramped plane seat and an hour on a packed metro train, I'm actually looking forward to the three hour ferry ride to Serifos, an island near Serfopoula. Of course there are no direct ferry routes to Serfopoula.
Still, I can imagine myself gazing out over the turquoise Aegean--the salty sea breeze drowning out Mom and Damian's repulsive lovey-dovey talk and blowing my stick-straight hair into beach-hewn waves. At least we aren't moving somewhere with no major body of water. Heck, there probably isn't anywhere on Serfopoula that isn't within running distance of the beach. Beach runs are my favorite. Salty sea air rushing in and out of my lungs. Sand shifting under my feet, making my calves burn with extra effort. Collapsing in exhaustion and watching the waves crash the shore while restoring my energy. Pure bliss.
The actual ferry ride is nowhere near the peaceful boat trip I'm hoping for. We aren't on a slow boat to Serifos, we are on a hydrofoil--a super high-speed ferry that bounces me off the deck when it hits even the tiniest wave. It's named Dolphin something-or-other, but it feels more like riding a really angry bull. One that can't wait to shake every last human off its back.
Riding the bucking bull is bad enough, but one more second of watching goo-goo eyes and I'm going to lose the contents of my stomach over the side of the boat. Mom and Damian don't seem to notice. They are busy standing close and batting their eyes at each other. Every so often he whispers something in her ear and she laughs like a little girl.
"I have to pee," I announce, more crudely than normal. I fully intend on actually using the facility until I get in there and am about to unzip my jeans when the bull hits a ripple and sends me sidelong into the door. I can only imagine what will happen if I actually squat in hover position and we hit a real wave. Instead of tempting fate I decide I can hold it until we find land.
We get to Serifos and spend a few glorious steps on an unmoving surface while Damian leads us to the chauffeured--is a private boat driver a chauffeur?--private yacht--yes, yacht--that will take us the rest of the way to the stupid, ferry-less island.
Does that mean there's no way off the island unless I have my own boat? Great, I'm going to be stuck on this stupid island until I get paroled. Or until I make friends with someone who has a boat.
Now there's a plan.
When I step onto the boat I'm smiling at the thought of befriending someone with transport.
Damian leads Mom to a bench seat on one side of the rear deck and I head for the opposite bench. Hopefully this boat ride will be less earthquake-like than the last, and I don't want my potential calm disturbed by disgusting baby talk or anything.
I think I'm out of hearing distance.
Not that Damian respects my isolation.
I rest my head against the back of the bench and start to close my eyes when he moves into the seat next to me. Prying one eye open to glare at him, I ask, "Yeah?"
Mom is sitting on the other side of him.
"Phoebe... there is something you need to know before we arrive at Serfopoula." He folds his hands carefully in his lap. "Are you familiar with Plato's Academy?"
The big philosophy school where a bunch of old Greek guys got together to talk about intense stuff like the origin of life and what kind of poison worked best? "Yeah."
"Well," Damian continues, "there is more to the Academy's history than most textbooks contain. In the sixth century, the Roman emperor Justinian issued an edict demanding the Academy be closed and forbade formal philosophical education. The ... ah-hem ... benefactors of the school were not prepared to see it closed so they moved it here. To Serfopoula."
I don't know Damian real well, but I think it's not typical for him to ah-hem in the middle of a sentence. He seems like a very formal guy who keeps his speech squeaky clean. Still, I think I should just ignore this observation and instead say, "Justinian must have been pissed when he found out they disobeyed his orders."
"He never found out." Damian swallows hard. "The ... ah-hem ... benefactors kept the knowledge from him."
There is something strange in the way he says this. Something ominous.
It must have been hard to keep a Roman emperor and every tattletale who would rush to tell him from finding out. Maybe these benefactors murdered anyone who found out and buried them in the school basement. I get shivers at the thought and I have to ask, "How?"
"Well, Phoebe." Damian looks over his shoulder at Mom, who nods in encouragement. "There is little the Greek gods cannot do when they choose to act."
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