Table of Contents

Book Info

Dion Marc
29 January 2022
Book Type
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Darkness hungers for the child of love. 

Alone and in London for the first time, Alex Anderson is being hunted by the darkness as the fates have seen fit to turn his dream holiday into his worst nightmare before he even steps foot out of the airport.

An archaic evil hungers for him and will stop at nothing to possess the  twenty-two-year-old and the coveted secrets that have been hidden from Alex his whole life.

All that stands in their way is a two-and-half-thousand-year-old spartan  Commander named Nikos and his fellow guardian sidekick Jin; a pink haired descendant of the goddess Hekate.

Nikos will move heaven and hell to protect Alex even if that means protecting him from himself.

When boy meets man sparks fly and an instant bond is felt, a connection that feels as old as the fabric of time. But Alex must first learn to trust Nikos and Jin while fighting his anxieties that have controlled his life if he has any  hope of surviving what’s to come.

The Last Son Of Venus is the first in the fast-paced LGBT fantasy romance series of the same name featuring queer male characters, high fantasy creatures, magic and the true gods of old. The Last Son of Venus will take  you on a long multi-series journey to a well-deserved HEA. So come and join Alex and Nikos and see what the Fates have in store. 

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Congratulations on your recent release. Please tell us a little bit about it. What’s your favorite aspect or part of the story? Do you have a favorite character? Who/Why?
G’day Everyone My Name is Dion short for Dionysos I’m an Australian born author writing
under my real name Dion Marc. I live and breathe queer art. Whether I’m painting, writing,
sewing or dancing naked in the moonlight I do it with pride. I’m a practising Hellenistic
polytheist who believes in healing the world one hug at a time and that drinking tea without
a biscuit is a horrendous crime.
I’ve recently released my debut novel ‘The Last Son Of Venus’ It’s an Urban Fantasy centred
around Ancient histories and features many of the beliefs of Hellenism and real life event
that I went through all mixed into a fictional thrilling fantasy adventure that will take you on
epic journey.
Alone and in London for the first time, Alex Anderson is being hunted by the darkness as the
fates have seen fit to turn his dream holiday into his worst nightmare before he even steps
foot out of the airport.
An archaic evil hungers for him and will stop at nothing to possess the twenty-two-year-old
and the coveted secrets that have been hidden from Alex his whole life.
All that stands in their way is a two-and-half-thousand-year-old spartan Commander named
Nikos and his fellow guardian sidekick Jin; a pink- haired descendant of the goddess Hekate.
Nikos will move heaven and hell to protect Alex even if that means protecting him from
When boy meets man sparks fly and an instant bond is felt, a connection that feels as old as
the fabric of time. But Alex must first learn to trust Nikos and Jin while fighting his anxieties
that have controlled his life if he has any hope of surviving what’s to come.
The Last Son Of Venus is the first in the fast-paced LGBT fantasy romance series of the same
name. Featuring Queer male characters, High fantasy creatures, Magic and the True gods of
Old. The last son of venus will take you on a long multi-series Journey to a well deserved
HEA. So come and join Alex and Nikos and see what the Fates have in store.
Here a few of the 5 star reviews the novel has received.
Shifters. Children of the gods. False prophets. Magic. Chases and battles. And a fated
romance. Ancient mythology. Death and heartbreak. Steam. This book literally had ALL
When anxious art student Alex Anderson decides to go on holiday from Australia to London,
he almost ends the trip immediately due to flight delay induced panic attack. At the
encouragement of his mum, he gets on the plane. Once the plane lands, he finds himself in
a bizarre and magical new world that will change his life forever. When a mysterious and
sexy man named Nikos tells Alex that he’s not who he thinks he is and he’s in grave danger,
Alex tries to escape his mysterious protector, but when danger won’t stop following him, he
has no choice but to give in to Nikos’ guard.
So much happens in this book and I don’t want to spoil it, but it was amazing and I can’t
wait for the next one
– Trish Skywalker on Goodreads
I’ve been having great luck with some fantasy series recently and this one continues my
winning streak. Alex is an incredibly well drawn character and considering what he is about
to face, having him prone to serious anxiety attacks was a really interesting choice by the
author. His panic at even the smallest change in plans is palpable and when he is brave
enough to make a trip to London and is confronted by Nikos and Jin his whole world turns
upside down. Unfortunately, it quickly becomes
clear that he can’t just ignore what they are telling him as he is clearly in mortal danger
from “something” and is going to need help and protection. There is a nice amount of steam
here but also a genuine emotional bond between Alex and Nikos as well as some great
world building. Cannot wait to see what the author has in store next.
– Ida Umphers on Goodreads
I’m really proud of this book and I think you may possibly enjoy reading it
My Fav Character would by Alex as he is apart of who I am and this character gives my
readers a glimpse at my soul made physical.

Are you a planner or a pantser and How much do you know about your story before you start writing? 
I don’t really buy into the planner or pantser aspect of writing because for me whether you
sit down and plan out your writing or you just jump right in you actually end up pantsing the
plan or you then get to a point where you plan out what you have pantsed. So, I guess I
would say I am a planter – a combo of both.
I usually have a scene in mind or a character I want to explore which is how I start the
writing process and will play around with these elements which is then how I expand out
with the story. Sometimes I jump right into writing and other times I’ll develop a plan for a
scene or series of scenes and that’s how I get into the process. It just depends on the day
and how I am feeling when I sit down to write.

Do deadlines motivate you or block you and how do you deal with them?
I’m usually a last-minute type of person – which I think a lot of creative people can
understand, the more time I have, the more time I use to create and explore and then when
crunch time is coming I write like someone possessed because I have a deadline to meet. So
I think they can be effective in getting things finished. However, I hate the after deadline
phase because I struggle to turn my ideas off after everything has been locked in. There’s
always something new that pops into my head that I want to explore – but that’s why I write
series and not standalone books.

Do you schedule a certain amount of time for writing each day/week, or do you just work it in when you can?

My preference is to have at least an hour in each day to write and I have become really good
at being able to focus my mind and creative approach to fit these times – but to be honest if
I could spend all day writing and exploring stories and characters I 100% would. Depending
on other commitments I have that set time isn’t always at the same time each day but I feel
lost if I don’t at least spend an hour deep In a story each day – it feels like I lost an arm.

What was the most difficult part of writing this book? Why?
Oh 100% the editing. Going back and reading through sections of the book that I wrote
awhile ago and then matching that up with more recent sections was a nightmare. And it’s
always a scary moment when you take what you have written and give it to someone else
and hope that it makes sense is nail biting. It’s also a long process and I think where you
start to love/hate what you have created because any tiny change can have bigger impacts
later in the story.

How do you develop a story idea?  
I don’t have a set way of doing this, sometimes I just fall in love with a character and it
grows from there and other times it will be the story itself that motivates me. I guess a
common thread for me can be locations because I am obsessed with the old world and
ancient sites so seeing a picture of the Parthenon in Greece or the great pyramid kicks off
that little spark of imagination and I just have to start writing. Another thing I’ve started to
do is illustrate the characters during the initial creation phase so i have a physical
representation as i develop the story.

Do you prefer to read ebooks or print?
I prefer audio books, I have mild dyslexia and so listening to books is much easier for me. I
definitely prefer queer romance books, but I love any genre – and I gravitate towards series
rather than standalone books because I love to get immersed in a world that spans more
than one book.

Does writing energize or exhaust you?
This really depends on what I am writing. In my book there is a traumatic assault scene, and
this took me 5 weeks to complete, and I was emotionally and physically exhausted when I
wrote this because of the subject matter. But generally speaking, it invigorates me to write
because it’s truly something I love to do.

What is your writing Kryptonite?
Stopping ha! I really struggle with wanting to stop because I love the world that I create and
I just want to stay there and keep exploring and meeting characters. It’s always a downer
when I come to the end of a story so I find ways that I can keep it going. My partner usually
has to say to me “I think that’s enough now – you can explore more in the next one”. But i
would also say spelling. I grew up off and on homeless and missed a lot of the building block
years of school. I have zero issue spelling complicated words but the easy ones are
sometimes so hard.

If you could tell your younger writing self anything, what would it be?
That even though you can’t spell, and reading is difficult for you, you can write and you’re
pretty good at it.
I can’t tell you how much that got in my way before I started.

What is the best money you ever spent as an author?
I would have to say Scrivener. Because I do a lot of world building and character
development as part of my writing process, and write scenes out of sequence and then do
elements of planning this program really helps me to have it all in one place and be able to
research and reference things easily. I know I would be completely lost without it.

What is your favorite underappreciated novel?
Sooooo many but today I’ll go with ‘The Guardian’ by Mary Calmes.

What do you find to be the most difficult thing about writing characters from the opposite sex?
I’m don’t think that I do struggle with this if I am honest because I think your own lived
experiences can allow you as a writer to get inside a character. As an example, I might not
understand exactly what it feels like to be a ‘woman’ but I do know what it feels like to be
judged for my life and “choices” by society because I was born gay. I understand societal
pressures as a queer man, I understand sexism because I have faced it time and time again
as a male who loves makeup and fashion. so based on my shared experiences on some level
I can understand what it feels like to be judged as a woman. There are a lot of parallels there
so it can help to get into a different lived experience to my own. But in saying that there are
some aspects of being a female I just would never write such as a sex scenes between a man
and a women or between a women and a women.
I also have a lot of female friends and ask them often about how they might handle a
situation that I can then draw upon for a character I am developing.

What did you edit out of this book?
Several scenes with the Bellum Sarcum that just didn’t punish the story forward enough.

How do you select the names of your characters?
Because I have many layers to my books, character names are other elements that I use to
underpin the themes in my books and the characters own values and beliefs. So, I do spend
a lot of time researching the meaning behind names so that I can find the perfect one that
summarizes that character or what that character represents in the story.
I also spend a lot of time looking into history and there are some names of ancient people
that speak to me or to a section of the story I want to tell so that’s another layer I like to add

What were your goals for this book? Did you achieve them?
Really when I started out, I just wanted to finish it and get it published – I didn’t have any
other goals – I just wanted to be able to get to the end. So yes, I 100% achieved all my goals
with this first book.
The second book I have the same goal but I would really love to be able to start building a
fan base that love these stories and characters as much as I do – which has started with The
Last Son of Venus, so I really just want to keep expanding on this with each book I release.

What do you think about when you’re alone in your car?
I actually don’t drive! So I’m never alone – I’ll either be with my partner or a random Uber
driver. But when I am driving with my partner we usually like to sing and talk about artists or
talk about whatever creative thing we are working on – so not much time for thinking.

What were you like in high school?
Oh gosh – I didn’t really like school all that much, being openly gay in a small town where
everyone knew who I was and with mild dyslexia and Bipolar made it pretty difficult for me –
and I had the whole emo thing going on but I was pretty loud too, so yeah… A loud gay emo
kid that was SUPER into Buffy.

What are the three best things about you?
I asked my partner shannon to answer this for me haha so these are his responses.
I am unintentionally funny
I care deeply about my friends and family
I have a strong drive for social equality and kindness
What is your favorite ice cream flavor?
Any ice cream can be elevated with Nutella!
If you could time-travel, where would you go and when?
Oh, easily ancient Greece – that is my spirit time, I can imagine being an Oracle or Pythia
and all the kings and queens and nobles coming to my temple where I would consult them
on their lives and tell them what the gods were saying.
I know I would be popular

Who would play you in a movie about your life?
Oh gosh this is really hard, looks wise I think maybe Leonardo Di Caprio or maybe a blonde
Zac Efron but I think as far as acting ability would go maybe Timothee Chamalet or Eddie
Redmayne because they have this kind of awkward way of acting that I think fits me
Is that arrogant? An awkward Leo? Hahaha

Thank you.


Bitter wind violated my exposed flesh, sending a deep chill to the very core of my bones.  Mother had warned me that London was cold, but I thought she meant cold like Melbourne in  winter, not winter in Antarctica. If it wasn’t for the fact that my jumpers were all packed down at  the very bottom, I would have stopped and added an extra layer of protection. But I was cold  and feeling far too lazy to reorder my bag, so I went without. Yes, I was an idiot.

As per the map’s instructions, I turned right onto Gillingham Street. It was becoming really

hard to focus on the map because the streets were barely lit. I cursed myself inwardly that I  didn’t just buy a portable phone charger, but I would be sure to rectify my error first thing  tomorrow. My goodness, this would be a lot smoother if I was using my phone’s Google Maps.  Anyway, what was done was done.

For a Saturday, there was very little nightlife, which I thought was odd considering what I knew  about Londoners and drinking, although I have to say my knowledge on the subject was like  ninety-five percent based on Geordie Shore reruns. But still, there was not a soul on the street.

I could feel my anxiety grow; it wasn’t helped by the fact that some random man told me  someone was trying to kill me—though he wasn’t some random man, was he? He knew my  name. I felt a shiver run up my arms; I didn’t think I could feel any colder. Maybe I should have  stayed and heard him out before running away…again, if I had, maybe he had a portable phone  charger.

Looking back down at the map, I estimated I had maybe another six-minute walk ahead,  although I wished I had just paid for the stupid cab fare, but I really couldn’t justify the cost for,  what, maybe four hundred metres. I walked further every day on my morning run.

The light flickered in the lamppost above. How strange. It flickered again, but this time, it didn’t  light back up. I was plunged into darkness as the rest of the streetlights also extinguished.


My anxiety started to peak, and my instincts told me to get out of there fast. All of a sudden, I  felt eyes on me. Shit shit shit. My pace quickened into a slight jog, my bag swinging heavy  behind me.

Why did it feel like the approaching darkness was watching me? I looked up to the sky where  once a moon sat giving light to the sky, but now it was gone, shrouded by darkness. I started to  shake  uncontrollably; I couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or my anxiety. Both seemed to be at war for  dominance over my body and mind.

A sound emerged through the darkness, muttered voices. I started to run, every fibre of my  body telling me to do so. My flight response was fully active, I flew down the street, but the  voices seemed to be gaining on me. They were now close enough to hear what it was they were  chanting. “Consumptura est lux tenebris.” They repeated it over and over.

I crossed the street in mere seconds, but was stopped from going further by a gate of iron. I  turned to go around, but to the left of me, I found that the men were closing in on me. Looking  to the right, they were doing the same yet only metres away.

Fuck fuck fuck, my only option was to jump the fence. It wasn’t very tall, so I knew I could make  short work of it. I put my hands on the spikes and pushed down, lifting my body. I swung my  legs up and jumped down. The hem of my shirt got caught on a spike, lifting my shirt up,  trapping my arms. “FUUUUCK!” I yelled, trying to fumble myself free. I was shaking so violently,  I could barely unhook it, the process taking minutes rather than seconds.

It came loose just as the men closed in. It was then that I realised my duffle bag’s strap must  have also gotten caught on the spike as it lay broken just on the other side of the fence, but I  could clearly see the men’s robes of red now. I hadn’t the time to retrieve it. I’d have to let it go  and hope I found it later after I had made it to a police officer.

Even the darkness seemed to draw dimmer. How was that possible? Turning, I started to run,  pushing past plants and shrubs, pulling my shirt back down as I ran.

Their chant suddenly changed, I could now hear their voices ringing in my head as if they were  whispering right into my ears. “Arbores et plantae saxa animari, prohibere eum.” Their chant  had changed. It felt as if the trees were drawing closer, which couldn’t be so.

Something grabbed my foot. I let out a scream as I fell to the ground hard. What was that? I  looked around, but all I could see was grass. I must have tripped over a root or something,  though I couldn’t see one. Getting back on my feet, my left ankle felt swollen, and as I put  pressure on it, I let out a loud scream. I hoped against hope that it was just twisted and not  broken. I tried to run, but the pain was just too great.

CRASH. The gate lifted from the ground and flew into a tree. The robed men continued to follow  me. FUCK.

“HELP! Someone, anyone, help me!” I shouted.

One of the men raised his hand at me, and my voice faltered. I tried to let out a scream, but my  voice was gone. What in the name of Ursula the sea witch was this? All I could do was try  limping away.

Roots lifted from the ground before my very eyes, spraying moss into the air, leaving the earth a  maze of traps, clearly designed to stop my escape. What was I to do? I tried to hop over them,  the pain forcing tears to fall from my eyes. But the pain didn’t stop me. I continued to push  myself, for my life clearly depended on it.

“Corrumpam vineam eius,” shouted one of the robed men. Instantly, vines fell from the trees  and launched themselves at me. I ducked and missed the first one, but the rest found their  target, instantly forcing me to the ground, wrapping around me like dangerous pythons.

The roots curled up, pulling me to face the robed men, forcing me to watch as they approached.  The men were dressed in robes of red. I could just make out a crucifix scar on one of the men’s  outstretched arms. Wrapped around their hands were what looked to be rosary beads, but  something looked wrong. It seemed like the beads dug into their hands, drawing out a dark  fluid.

The wind changed, and the smell of metallic ooze hit my sinuses, causing my nose to curl. That  answered the question of what the fluid was: it was blood. I struggled with everything left in my  body, but it was no use, the vines just grew tighter and tighter, almost to the point of breaking  bone.

“Help me,” I prayed inwardly. “Someone, please.”

A man in the centre stepped forward chanting with the others, “Accipere auferat divina virtute.”  Something jabbed into me sharp like a needle, causing unimaginable pain to flow through me. I screamed and screamed, but no sound escaped me. Whatever it was it felt like it was crawling through my veins.

He continued forward towards me, chanting. Only a few feet away, I could now clearly make out  his face that was hidden by a hood. He looked to be in his mid-fifties with a full white beard,  long hooked nose, and beady black eyes. He kneeled beside me and raised his outstretched  hand over my face. I tried to close my eyes, but they were forced open. The man squeezed his  palm into the rosary beads, which I could now see were made of jagged barbed wire that cut  into his flesh. As the man squeezed, blood fell like water droplets over my face. On impact with  my flesh, it sizzled like acid; it smelled like it too. I was truly dead. My only thought was on my parents, hoping they would be able to get past my death. My vision started to fade to black.  This was the end of me. My eyes finally closed. I had no strength anymore. Maybe death  wouldn’t be so bad? And with that thought, it all went silent.


The earth reverberated. There was loud running, yelling, and what sounded like sandbags hitting a wall, but I couldn’t open my eyes to see. They felt like they were welded shut.

“You must continue the chant!” shouted a voice that felt like spiders crying in my ears.

The chanting started again. “Accipere auferat—” But was cut off mid-sentence as what sounded  like thunder struck the earth. I needed to run, move, get up, break the bonds holding me. My  brain told me this, but it was as if I was buried alive.

Something dropped beside me. It radiated warmth. I wanted to lean into it. I tried to but failed. I  wanted it closer. “Please come closer,” I begged the universe, and by some grace, it did. I felt a hand on my cheek; it was warm to the touch. Who was this? What was this? Again, I tried to  open my eyes but failed. I started to panic again. This couldn’t be the end. My mind started to  race. Mentally, I was thrashing back and forth, wishing my body to do the same. This feeling of  disconnection was the scariest thing I had ever felt.

“By Zeus, Alex, gods fucking dammit, your lips are blue,” growled a familiar voice. Was it the  Adonis? It sounded like him, and for some unexplainable reason, I hoped it was him. I could feel  his hands on me. Everywhere he touched, I felt warmth.

“Jin, we’re going to need a recovery charm,” he yelled at an unknown person.

“Babes, I am fucking busy if you didn’t realise, you know, holding off the Priests of Bellum  Sacrum,” bit back an unknown, effeminate voice.

“Fuck it all to Hades, you couldn’t have just come with me at the train station.” The Adonis’s  voice turned gravelly. But I couldn’t follow him at the train station because he was a stranger. I  didn’t know him; therefore, I couldn’t trust him. But was he here now to save me? So maybe  that meant I could trust him?

“Fuck it, we’ll have to swap,” called the Adonis back to the person he called Jin, I assumed.

No, don’t leave me! He can not leave me. Don’t take the warmth away. I’m so very cold. As if he  could hear me, he assured, “Don’t worry, Alex, I’ll be back.” Then he was gone. The coldness set  back in, his warmth only a haunting memory.

Thunder struck the earth again; there were more screams of pain and terror. The smell of  metallic ooze grew almost too strong to possibly bear. A thud beside me. Was it the Adonis? It  couldn’t be because this person didn’t radiate warmth like he had. Was he friend or foe?

“Queen, don’t even stress, okay, I’m here to help you, boo.” It was that voice again; it was  distinctly fem, but like fem male, not a fem female. I assumed it was Jin, but I really wished I  could open my eyes and stop all the guesswork.

“Álysoi kaí desmá nýn spázete.” I felt warmth all over my body. Suddenly, I felt weightless like I  was flying in the air. The darkness began to fade as a white light came towards me. I tried to  meet it halfway.

Light burst into my reality as my eyes flew open, temporarily blinding me as my eyes readjusted.  A man who couldn’t be any older than myself stood over me, his hair fairy-floss pink, kept neat  and short on the side with a front fringe that covered the tops of his brows.

“Is he awake yet?” yelled the Adonis from somewhere just out of my field of view. “Yes, fuck, give me a second, Miss Bossy Tiger,” snapped the pink-haired man. He turned and spoke to me, trying for a soothing voice, but came off very condescending.

“Hi, Alex, my name is Jin. I’m going to need you to stand up. Can you do that for me, dolls?” But  wasn’t I tied to the ground by vines?

“Jin, get him the fuck up now. We need to move!” said the Adonis, running back into view. “I’m  trying,” he responded.

“Then try harder.”

Before I could process what was happening, one of the robed figures instantly appeared

behind the Adonis, bloodied dagger outstretched ready to strike, going for the killing blow.  “NOOOOOOOO!” I screamed, sending out a blast of energy that felt like it came from my

very soul. I couldn’t let the Adonis die.

Gusts of power forced the robed man into the air, flying back with a loud crunching sound

into a tree. The dagger burst into smoke. It took me a moment to realise what it was I had done.  My body retracted inwardly, instantly forming a ball. What had I just done? I started to rock

back and forth, tears falling from my eyes.


I was a freak, and I may have just killed someone. I needed my mother to tell me it would be  okay, but she wasn’t there, so I didn’t know what to do. I needed to know I didn’t just kill  someone. “Shhhh, calm down, it will all be okay,” said Jin softly.

But it wasn’t going to be okay; nothing was. It would never be okay again. “Right, fuck this. Get the fuck up now, idiot, before you get us all killed,” growled the Adonis.

I just looked at him, like was he kidding? Like really, was he kidding? The rudeness. I was

going through something. Instantly, my anxiety and grief turned to anger like a light switch. I  was standing up, pointing my finger at him. “Who the hell do you think you are? Do not EVER  talk to me like that again, do you understand?”

The corners of his mouth turned up slightly; the barest whisper of a smile ghosted his face.  “That got you up, now didn’t it?”

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one of five DELUXE eBook copies of ‘THE LAST SON OF VENUS’ 

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Scottish Australian author Dion Marc lives and breathes queer art. Whether he is painting, writing, sewing or dancing naked in the moonlight he does it with pride. He is a practising Hellenistic polytheist who believes in healing the world one hug at a time and that drinking tea without a biscuit is a horrendous crime.
Dion has spent over eleven years working full time in film and television as a Makeup Artist, Hairdresser, Wig Maker and Costume Designer. For the last year Dion has been working on the award-winning theatrical shows Hamilton, Moulin Rouge and more recently full-time on Harry Potter and the Cursed Child as a hair and makeup artist.

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