QSFer Angel Martinez has a new urban fantasy book out:
When humans forsake the temples, the gods need to find other employment. Hades opens Brandywine Investigations after his divorce and his subsequent move to the modern world. If he was hoping for boring infidelity cases and lost dogs, he’s sorely mistaken as murder and mayhem find his agency and his extended family at an astonishing rate.
- Canines, Crosshairs & Corpses: Brandywine Investigations #1
- No Enemy But Time: Brandywine Investigations #2
- Dragons, Diamonds & Discord: Brandywine Investigations #3
Please note: The stories in this omnibus have been reedited, and expanded by about 18K (total). The majority of the expansions were in No Enemy But Time.
“Grab that cable, Dio.” Orpheus pointed with a drumstick as he packed up the last of the kit.
Dionysus, wild god of Wine and Ecstasy, threw him a mock salute. “Yes, your bossiness.”
It probably should have annoyed him, the way Orpheus ordered everyone around after a show. Lesser deity and all that. But, damn, that had been one sweet gig, everyone just completely on and the crowd in tune with every change in pace and mood. His blood still hummed and sang with it. Dio had to stop coiling the cable to adjust his overeager cock in his skintight leathers. Lots of grabby hands in the crowd that night, to his everlasting delight, and he was raring to go, willing to do anything that got them to the after party faster.
He straightened and stretched to pop his spine, taking a moment to look around the club. A few employees lingered to clean up the tables in the back but all the patrons had filtered out.
Almost all… Dio chuckled when he caught sight of the club’s last occupant, a white-haired man in a black leather duster facedown on his table. “Should we wake up Daddy Warbucks back there and see if he wants to come with?”
Hermes snapped the last guitar case closed and turned to squint into the gloom. “We probably…oh, damn. Dio, doesn’t he look a little too familiar?”
The excess of blackberry brandy made focusing a bit of a challenge, but Dio took a hard look at the broad shoulders, at short-cropped hair that was silver rather than white. “Fuck.”
Orpheus joined them, stepping over their faun drummer who lay snoring on the stage floor. “Oh, him. It’s none of our business. Let’s get packed up and go.”
“Might not be your business, but that’s my favorite uncle. And he doesn’t do shit like this.” Dio hopped down from the stage, Hermes right on his heels, and jogged over to the inebriated figure at the back of the room.
“Uncle Hades?” Hermes shook one powerful shoulder gently while Dio examined the empty glasses.
“Jagermeister. Hell of a lot of it. Think he’s out for a bit.” Dio scratched his head, baffled. “Last place I’d expect to see Uncle Straight and Narrow. What the hell was he thinking?”
Orpheus lifted a black clad arm far enough to tug out a sheaf of paper. “I’m thinking maybe this is a piece of it.”
“Lemme see.” Hermes snatched the documents before Orpheus had a chance to open them. His handsome brow furrowed as he unfolded them and began to read, and then his mouth fell open in shock. “Shit. Oh, for the earth’s sake…”
With his lips compressed in a taut line, he handed the papers to Dio. It looked like a lot of legal hoohah to him at first, stuff he couldn’t even begin to decipher, but then bits and pieces started to jump up and bite him on the nose.
“Divorce?” he squeaked. “Aunt Persephone is divorcing him?”
“No, it can’t say that.” Orpheus scowled as he snatched the papers back. “You can’t read worth shit, Dio.” But a few seconds perusal turned his glower into shock. “How can she…I mean, they’ve been together for how many centuries?” He kept skimming even as he spoke, turning pages faster and faster. “Guys, this is bad.”
“Epically bad.” Orpheus dropped the divorce papers on the table, shaking his fingers out as if the words had singed him. “She’s kicking him out, too. Keeping the palace and the dog.”
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Angel Martinez is the erotic fiction pen name of a writer of several genres. Her experiences as a soldier, a nurse, a banker, and an underpaid corporate drone give her a broad view of the world and a deep appreciation for the astounding variety of people on this small planet.
She currently lives part time in the hectic sprawl of northern Delaware and full time inside her head. She has one husband of over twenty years, one son, two cats, a love of all things beautiful and a terrible addiction to the consumption of both knowledge and chocolate.
To learn more about Angel, please visit http://angelmartinezauthor.weebly.com.