Spotlight: We Are the Match by Mary E. Roach
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Two women in love and in danger. Mob families at war. An explosive and enthralling contemporary reimagining of the Helen of Troy myth set against the splendor of the Grecian islands.
Paris is a fixer for mob families on the Grecian islands when a powerful crime lord hires her to investigate a bombing. Insinuating herself into Zarek's circle is the chance for revenge that Paris has been waiting for since she was a child. Years ago, Zarek wiped out everyone she loved. Now it's Paris's turn. Her target? Zarek's beautiful daughter, Helen.
Helen wants nothing more than to abandon the violent world in which she was raised—and worse, an arranged marriage to a man she barely knows. In Paris, Helen sees the perfect tool to help her escape. And in Helen, Paris sees a desperate woman who will be the perfect revenge. As the two work together to find the bomber, and their connection becomes increasingly intimate, Zarek's empire grows more fragile and their own bonds of loyalty and purpose are tested.
When murder sends them fleeing to Troy, danger only brings Paris and Helen closer together—in love, in fury, and in the will to survive. If Zarek wants a war, Paris and Helen are ready to ignite it.
Excerpt
“And you are a fool if you think you have no power,” I tell her. “You are the power here. They bend to you. If you asked, this room would kneel for you.”
“You would not kneel,” Helen says. Her throat bobs, as if the breath is caught there.
My blade—her throat—I can hardly breathe. I am so, so close to her now.
I could do it here, instead of dragging her all the way to Troy. Set my knife just—there.
“Would you?” Helen’s chest heaves just slightly, the shallow rise and fall the only sign that she is as caught in this moment as I am.
“I kneel for no one,” I tell her.
Not since Troy.
Her cheeks are a soft pink, maybe from the whiskey, or maybe the opiate intoxicating her is something more—something strange and tenuous and unexpected.
I lean close to her. Take the drink from her hand, tip it back, and down it, grinning at her as I do. I can imagine, instead, Helen of the gods on her knees for me. Throat tipped up, eyes trained on me. Begging.
“Do you want to know something?” Her voice is quiet, so quiet I have to lean in closer.
“Do you want to tell me?” I shoot back.
“I am going to die tonight.” She says it with a smile on her face, something desperate and dark but something real.
My own heart thunders against my rib cage, so hard it is almost painful.
“And who would dare kill the princess?” I ask.
Because she can’t know.
Can she?
Helen is still smiling, but the look in her eyes is distant now. She is far away from me, far out over the stormy blue sea beyond the windows.
“What is it you want, Paris?” she asks.
You, I almost answer. At my mercy.
“An introduction,” I tell her after a beat. “To your father.”
Disappointment flashes in her face, sharp and clear before her expression smooths over, and then she steps back toward the great windows looking out over the sea, alone on the symbol carved into the marble floor, a Z and an L, tilted and interwoven. Zarek and Lena. Their family, their godship, their love for each other, immortalized in marble.
How fitting that Helen will die on the anniversary of the bomb that started it all.
They will crowd Helen soon, but now, just briefly, she stands alone, framed by windows that open to the yawning mouth of sea and storm. She looks almost wistful.
I am going to die tonight.
What is it you are planning, Helen of the gods, or what is it you have learned? What bloody nightmare will these families unleash tonight?
It is the right moment for something, though. The moment Zarek will call for everyone’s attention, when Milos will descend the steps and kneel in front of Helen, ring in hand. When she will pretend to be surprised, ecstatic, perhaps a little teary but still somehow perfectly composed. She will smile for the first time tonight—other than the smile she sneaked me when I stole the whiskey from her soft, perfect hand—and the guests in the room will fall even more in love with her than they already are.
It is Zarek’s moment.
Except it is also Helen’s.
Except Helen is alone for a breath of time that lasts too long, and I smell something faint, something out of place, something devastatingly familiar.
I flick my lighter open out of habit, but the soft comfort of its click cannot calm me. Because this smell, it is an acrid smell, like flame, like—
Bomb.
I am moving before I can call it out; I am moving on instinct and instinct alone; I am faster than guard and god alike. Because Helen is mine.
I am hurtling straight into Helen of the mansion, Helen of the island, Helen of the gods, my body colliding with hers, just as the windows behind us explode in a shower of glass.
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About the Author
Mary E. Roach is a former early childhood teacher who now writes across genres and age categories. WE ARE THE MATCH is Mary’s debut adult romance. Her debut YA mystery, Better Left Buried, was published by Disney Hyperion in 2024, and her follow-up YA novel, Seven for a Secret, will be published in September 2025.
When she is not writing stories for and about powerful women, Mary enjoys running, teaching martial arts, and disappearing into the wilderness. Mary lives in St. Paul with her fiancé and their very disagreeable cat, Lulu.
Giveaway
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