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Mythbreaker

par Stephen Blackmoore

Séries: Gods and Monsters (3)

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The follow-up to Chuck Wendig's Unclean Sprits is a stand alone tale of new gods facing up to the old ones with humanity in the middle! Growing up an orphan, Louie had conversations with "invisible friends," could see patterns in the world that no one else could see. In other times he would have been a prophet - someone to make people believe in the gods. But he grew out of the visions, and then into crime as a drug runner. Now thirty-five and burnt out, he's had enough. With access to the mob's money, he plans to go out in a big way. Only he can't. A broken down car, a missed flight; it's bad enough being hunted by the mob, but the gods - kicked out of the Heavens, stuck on Earth without worshippers - need someone who can tell their stories, and they aren't letting him go. And there are new gods on the scene, gods of finance and technology, who want him too. Caught between the mob and two sets of rival gods, Louie hatches a plan that will probably get him killed if it doesn't get him out.… (plus d'informations)
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The second entry in the Gods and Monsters series, and the first from Stephen Blackmoore.

The gods are real, living on Earth, and they're pretty much just assholes. Old gods and new gods, they all want a piece of Fitz. But he just wants to get rid of those damn nightmares. ( )
  JoshuaAtkins | May 12, 2015 |
I received an early reviewer copy of the book through NetGalley.

Dark. Intense. Frenetic. That's the best way to describe Blackmoore's urban fantasy romp through a Los Angeles abounding with very needy gods. The voice reminded me of Blackmore's other series, as well as Chuck Wendig and Richard Kadrey. They are all masters of this kind of macabre, gritty, profane dark fantasy.

The "hero" is Fritz, a guy who has operated on the wrong side of the law for years. He's also medicated himself as much as possible to drown out the voices that have always lurked in my back of his mind. On this particular crappy day, the voices decide to start screaming. Then the speakers start to show up in person. It turns out the gods—all the gods of all the people of earth—have been booted out of their firmament. Fritz is supposed to be a Chronicler, the sort of rare bard who can revive a god's legacy and save them from misery and obscurity. Therefore, they all want him.

The pace is crazy. It reads like an action movie—boom, crash, bang, barely survive, escape, oh crap there's another god on the rampage. It's fun, though it's dark in a way that I'd want to be in a certain mood to get into it.

This book is part of a series; I haven't read the previous book, and I didn't find myself lost. MYTHBREAKER stands on its own without any issues. ( )
  ladycato | Dec 1, 2014 |
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After years of doing everything from smoking crushed-up Quaaludes in a Skid Row homeless camp to snorting cocaine with Miami “businessmen,” Fitz has come to one inescapable conclusion.
Getting high is a huge pain in the ass.
You’d think it wouldn’t be that hard. Doesn’t matter if it’s pot, opium, ecstasy or Viagra; it all works the same way. You take a thing, and put it in your body. It goes up your nose, or down your mouth, in a vein, up your butt. Simple, right? But no.
People, man. Fucking people. Got to make everything complicated. Pipes, domes, vaporizers, spoons, butane torches, screens, papers, irons, ash catchers, straws, grinders, nails, syringes, chillums, hookahs, clips, masks.
Not that that’s ever stopped him, of course. Whether he’s popping prescription anti-psychotics or doing opium out of a glass pipe, it’s all worth it. To keep the voices out of his head.
“Gimme a hit,” Marty says. He leans into him on the bed, wraps his leg around Fitz’s own. They fucked the sheets off the mattress an hour ago, their clothes scattered across the floor.
Or is it Matty? Marvin? Fitz can’t remember. That’s fine. He’ll be gone by morning, and he’ll never see him again. Dark brown hair, thin to the point of ribs showing, eyes a shade of green that makes Fitz think of the ocean. He’ll remember those eyes, even if he never remembers his name.
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The follow-up to Chuck Wendig's Unclean Sprits is a stand alone tale of new gods facing up to the old ones with humanity in the middle! Growing up an orphan, Louie had conversations with "invisible friends," could see patterns in the world that no one else could see. In other times he would have been a prophet - someone to make people believe in the gods. But he grew out of the visions, and then into crime as a drug runner. Now thirty-five and burnt out, he's had enough. With access to the mob's money, he plans to go out in a big way. Only he can't. A broken down car, a missed flight; it's bad enough being hunted by the mob, but the gods - kicked out of the Heavens, stuck on Earth without worshippers - need someone who can tell their stories, and they aren't letting him go. And there are new gods on the scene, gods of finance and technology, who want him too. Caught between the mob and two sets of rival gods, Louie hatches a plan that will probably get him killed if it doesn't get him out.

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