Set in the Scottish Central Belt and narrated by a mortal woman with a snark cannon and zero tolerance for mediocrity, this is a filthy, funny, and fiercely honest celebration of desire. Forget perfect abs—these are complex, broken, brilliant men facing one final test. And they’d better pass.
Yes, there’s sex—scorching, poetic, absurd, occasionally athletic enough to dislocate something—but beneath the thrusting runs a deep vein of honesty. It’s about longing, disappointment, body image, female desire, and being seen after a lifetime of invisibility.
Featuring:
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15 celebrity “gods” in entirely fictionalised encounters
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A judgmental houseplant named Asphodela
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Hysterical Latin names for every trialist
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Obscene metaphors unfit for church
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No male gaze—just squinting female scrutiny
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Full-frontal mythology with a chance of redemption
This is not fanfiction.
This is not romance.
This is Olympus or Oblivion.
And the gods are on trial.