From Heliotrope: 

G is now streaked yellow, green and pinkish-blue, wild brushstrokes that seem to swirl like a Van Gogh sky as her muscles pulse. “You’re awake, thank the Goddess!” she says, shooting me a quick look.  
“Which goddess is that?” I mumble. “You’re the Goddess.” 
“Athena/Minerva. The one who put the ‘ow’ in the owl. Wisdom hurts.” 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Are we figurines in Athena’s dollhouse, being moved from room to room at the whim of a child? No, wait, Athena’s not a child . . . did she have a child? No, she was a virgin, right? I look to G to see if she’s reading this train of thought and might help me out, but she’s ogling Anita like she wants to tongue-fuck her bullet holes. Oh, fuck it, I got the green-eyed monster of jealousy licking my rim. That’s a line from a Sapph, I’m sure of it, and I’m sure I wrote it, Lonnie doesn’t know Othello from a board game and he thinks Desdemona’s hankie is a sexual position.  

From Cinnabar: 

“We’re priestesses of Athena. But not like Medusa, who was also a priestess of Athena, but she was raped by Poseidon in her temple, and I don’t mean the side of her head, her place of worship, and Athena, who could be a real hardass, fucked her up. Ain’t no male gods gonna rape us . . .”

From Cobalt: 

She puts an arm around me and hugs me tight to her so I get a load of her scented Athena arena, a gladiatorial space that is the place. 
“Deb, fucking what’s that Burroughs bit about the guy who got his eye pecked out by vultures in a Panama City park when he passed out from paregoric? I can’t remember it right, this acid has me all addled.” 
“Leif the Unlucky?” I venture. 
“I think that’s it!” T shrieks. “Fuck, Deb, you’re good.” 

From the forthcoming Aurum:

“What do you mean when you say her karma tasted like chicken shawarma?” G asks San. “It’s more than Deb’s obsession with Dr. Seuss and Motherfucker Goose, right? Could you smell the impending doom on her? And why shawarma? The vertical rotisserie as a metaphor of post-apoc mortality, such as it is? We’re slow-roasting in our ever-changing power, bits of us being carved away by an imperious Athena? And why chicken, in particular? Are we putting the hen in hentai?”