BROKEN GOD by Nazarea Andrews is now live!
This is an adult, contemporary fantasy novel.
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BLURB:
Power is a strange and broken thing.
He was the sun god, the god of healing and song.
And prophecy.
Apollo has lived alone for centuries, content to spin out the years wandering a new and strange world, lost in the past and endless versions of the future. He has cut all ties with the remains of Olympus and his power, and hidden himself in humanity.
His twin thinks he’s depressed, spending his time in coffee shops, hospital waiting rooms, and concert halls…and nothing matters. Not really.
Until her.
Iris. With her teasing mouth and soulful music and eyes that remind him of the past.
He can’t resist her smile.
A girl as wild as he was, once, with a poet’s tongue and the body of a siren, who for one night makes him forget all the years and everything he gave up.
And he can’t stop fate.
Gods knows he’s tried.
He can’t help taking her.
Even if he knows better.
When Iris wakes up screaming, caught up in visions of the future, Apollo realizes that he didn’t leave his power quite as far behind as he thought.
He’s the god of prophecy and he’s been running from it, for centuries.
Iris is everything he has to avoid.
Now he has a furious Oracle on his hands, his sister trying to fix him, and someone is killing the gods.
It’s not just his tenuous sanity that hangs in the balance this time.
It’s all of Olympus.
Godhood really wasn’t supposed to be this hard.
EXCERPT 1
BROKEN GOD
I stand on a street, in a city of ocean and air and mist.
Father used to call places like this the in-between.
It’s one of those strange places where my father and his brothers could stand as equals. I always found it odd that it was left alone. That they didn’t come here. But I learned not to question my good fortune, and I settled here, and I was happy.
Artemis said they’d come, eventually.
And there was the prophecy circling in my head.
I blink, and I’m standing outside a tiny temple a thousand years ago.
I can feel the wind and hear the girls singing my paeans.
I blink, and I’m back in Seattle, and my uncle is watching me.
For several long heartbeats, I consider bolting.
Wouldn’t be the first time I did. I dodged Hermes for almost twenty years before he got bored and quit chasing me.
Hermes isn’t quite the level of power I’m facing now, so I huff out a sigh and cross the street to stand in front of my uncle.
Like a fucking child.
Gods, this sucks.
“Uncle,” I say, inclining my head.
“It’s been a while since we’ve seen you, nephew.”
I shrug, not bothering to deny it.
What, after all, is there to deny? I fled. I broke my own laws, went insane and fled Olympus.
Doesn’t matter that the other gods followed less than a century later, and scattered around the globe, finding power and their own faithful where they could. Doesn’t matter because I left before Father and his brothers could do it first.
I left and I took Artemis with me.
“Why are you here?” I ask, picking at my nail. The polish on my thumb is chipping, and I scratch at it absently. Watch him from the corner of my eye.
My uncle is, strangely, unchanged. He looks the same as he did the last time I saw him, in the Hall of Olympus, while my family screamed and fought.
His eyes, maybe, are a little bit more tired than they were, then.
Poseidon has always favored the guise of a middle-aged fisherman, with the weathered, craggy skin of a man who spends his time on the wind-tossed waves, with long, black hair streaked with gray that tangles in his face, and sharp eyes the color of the waves where the water gets deep and dark—the dangerous part of the ocean where Poseidon and his daughters have always lived.
Vaguely, I wonder what happened to Atlantis and my cousins. If they are still alive below the waves.
“This is a port city. My ocean feeds it. I’m more welcome here than you,” he says easily, his smile tight.
Poseidon is a territorial bastard. Probably because Father fucked him over when he took the crown of Olympus.
I thumb over my cards, and tilt my head back.
Music swells and the clouds shift, and I stand for a shining heartbeat in a sunbeam, my hair alight with it, and the music of the city thrumming through my veins, and I laugh at the sheer ecstasy of it. Poseidon huffs a little, and I grin as I blink at him. When the power thrums through me this strong, I can almost convince myself I’m not insane. That the burden of prophecy hasn’t driven me completely batshit over the years.
I grin at him. “I’m perfectly at ease with my power here, Uncle.”
“You’re still a fucking showoff, you know that?”
I smirk, because duh. I’m a god, for fuck’s sake.
“Your father would like to see you.”
“Would he?” I ask, lazily. I pull the cards from my pocket, and shuffle them, spinning one over my fingers as Poseidon shifts on the busy sidewalk. “How is Zeus? Still kicking it? Not many pray to the god of thunder these days.”
Poseidon’s lips tighten. I’ve pissed him off.
Not terribly surprising. I’ve always been good at pissing off the relatives. Got even better at it when I went crazy.
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Nazarea Andrews' Bio:
Nazarea Andrews (N to almost everyone) is an avid reader and tends to write the stories she wants to read. Which means she writes everything from zombies and dystopia to contemporary love stories. When not writing, she can most often be found driving her kids to practice and burning dinner while she reads, or binging watching TV shows on Netflix. N loves chocolate, wine, and coffee almost as much as she loves books, but not quite as much as she loves her kids. She lives in south Georgia with her husband, daughters, spoiled cat and overgrown dog. She is the author of World Without End series, Neverland Found, Edge of the Falls, and The University of Branton Series. Stop by her twitter (@NazareaAndrews) and tell her what fantastic book she should read next.
Author Links:
Site - http://www.nazareaandrews.com/
Blog - http://www.nazarea-andrews.blo
Twitter - https://twitter.com/NazareaAnd
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/Nazar
Street Team - https://www.facebook.com/group
Newsletter - http://eepurl.com/MtHwj
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