‘The man may be the head, but the woman is the neck, and she can turn the head any way she wants.’
As the daughter of a red-blooded, hairy chested, plate-smashing Spartan, and more recently the wife of an (ever so slightly) less hairy-chested but no less red-blooded Cypriot warrior, I live my life by this saying.
I grew up predominantly ‘English’ but spent my formative years learning that every word comes from the Greek language and that no other nation compares to the might of the Hellenic realm. The smell of olive oil on my skin (well it IS a great moisturiser) and the unruly curls on my head, leave most people in no doubt that Zeus has struck me with his lightning bolt, despite my reluctance to play the role of the stereotypical Greek woman stuck in the kitchen.
Stories were an important part of my childhood and I began writing from an early age. Even now, my…
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