Westside Harpy (Midlife Olympians #2)

<p><strong style=color: rgba(15 17 17 1)>When a fake fortune teller receives the gift of the Oracle of course there's strings attached Olympic-sized strings.</strong></p><p>Hi my name is Lydia. I used to be a grifter reading fortunes for money. Now I'm Oracle to the Gods and my life has never been more exciting or dangerous.</p><p><br></p><p><span style=color: rgba(15 17 17 1)>A couple of years ago this witchy fae princess and her supernatural clique decided to expose themselves on live television. No not that way you perv. They showed the mundane world that all legends about gods and monsters were true. At the time I'd been one of those mundane schlepps munching on chocolate drizzled popcorn as I watched a viral video of humans turning into fae werewolves and bears--o</span><em style=color: rgba(15 17 17 1)>h my!</em></p><p><br></p><p><span style=color: rgba(15 17 17 1)>That was before a Titan named Dione came through the door of my fake divination shop to tell me I was the real deal a descendant of the Oracles of Delphi.</span></p><p><br></p><p><span style=color: rgba(15 17 17 1)>Now I'm eyeballs deep in gods monsters and the supernatural community breathing down my neck to predict the fate of our kind. I haven't let anyone except Hermes know that I can't control my visions. I know the secret formula of bringing on a prediction remembering it and how to see specific things is another story.</span></p><p><br></p><p><span style=color: rgba(15 17 17 1)>I've got to figure out how to use my powers or I might get fired from this job. Gods don't pay severance. They throw you into the abyss.</span></p>