Prism Book Alliance® would like to thank Angel Martinez for stopping by today.
Title: Hell For The Company (Brimstone #1)
Author: Angel Martinez
Publisher: Mischief Corner Books
Cover Artist: Freddy MacKay
Genre: Gay Fiction, Humor/Comedy, M/M Romance, Science Fiction
Shax, the Demon Prince of Thieves, has reconciled himself to exile. He has a grand time careening around the galaxy as a high-end, intergalactic purloiner of pretties. Everything’s going just fine, thank you very much. All right, fine, the anti-gravity cows are a bit problematic and some of his buyers are bad for his health, but he manages until he comes across an injured angel in a psychedelic alien jungle.
He only rescues the wing boy for his golden feathers, but what Shax doesn’t know about angels could fill an intergalactic encyclopedia.
The Clock Lady – a Brimstone ficlet
“Shaxy…what in all the fucks that ever fucked is that?” Benny’s little rat nose scrunched as he leaned closer in the holo imager.
“It’s a statue. Solid gold, I assure you,” Shax shrugged. “Granted, it’s not the loveliest depiction of a woman—”
“She’s got crossed eyes and huge feet and a clock where her stomach should be.” Benny squinted harder. “Come on Shaxy, what’re you trying to pull here?”
“I’m not pulling anything. I’ve had this in my collection for some time. Can’t recall how I acquired it.”
“You accidentally breathed in a roomful of nitrous oxide,” Verin growled. “After that, everything was freaking hilarious. She’s not the only stupid thing you stole that night.”
Shax glared at him. “Unusual, perhaps. But not stupid. Regardless of the bizarre workmanship, it’s still gold. Can you get me a buyer or not?”
Benny let out a long breath, but his beady eyes had shifted from suspicious to calculating. “Lemme see what I can do, your demon-ness. I’ll get back to you.”
Several minutes ticked by on the stomach clock after Benny signed off, Shax sipping at his coffee while he tried his best not to glance over at Verin. He didn’t want to get into it. He really didn’t.
“So give, bonehead.” Verin obviously wasn’t going to let him off so easily. “Why now? You’ve had that butt-ugly thing for years.”
“It was a reminder of our misspent youth, Ver.”
“Don’t give me that sentimental crap. And it doesn’t explain why now.”
Shax let another three minutes tick off on the clock, each movement of the minute hand an abrasive, tinny click. “It’s gotten louder. No matter where I stash it, I can still hear it in my cabin. I’ve been sleeping in the galley the past few nights.”
“Told you not to steal it in the first place, genius.”
“So you say. I don’t recall.”
“Course not. You were high as a fucking orbiting satellite.”
Benny didn’t call back that day or the next. When he did call back on the third day, he was twitchier than usual, his eyes unable to focus on any one thing. “I got you a buyer.”
“But? There’s definitely a but there.” Shax folded his hands on the console, determined to be patient.
“It’s an old lady in the capital on Scarlen. She, um, collects weird shit. But she says she wants to you deliver in person.”
“All right. That’s not so odd.” Shax drummed his fingers beside Benny’s holo image. “Give, Benny. What aren’t you saying?”
“Um…look.” Benny twitched and actually looked behind him, though no one was ever in his workspace. “She collects really weird shit. I looked into it. Like fingers and organs and…demon horns.”
Shax blinked at him, then sat back slowly in his chair. “I see. Huh.”
“You know, Benny, I’ve decided not to sell after all. Someday this will be a museum piece. A historically significant artifact. I’ll wait a few more centuries. But thank you for giving it a try,”
“Anytime, Shaxy.” Benny’s shoulders relaxed, a skitter of a smile rushing across his face. “Anytime.”
Again Verin and Shax were left in the silence of the pilot’s pod with the ugly clock lady ticking away her maddening accounting of the minutes.
“Out the airlock?” Verin asked softly.
“Too damn right. I’ll race you.”
The scramble to the airlock was neither dignified nor safe, but the lady with the clock for a stomach finally turned peacefully, silently in the vacuum of space.
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About the Author
While Angel Martinez is the erotic fiction pen name of a writer of several genres, she writes both kinds of gay romance – Science Fiction and Fantasy. Currently living part time in the hectic sprawl of northern Delaware, (and full time inside the author’s head) Angel has one husband, one son, two cats, a changing variety of other furred and scaled companions, a love of all things beautiful and a terrible addiction to the consumption of both knowledge and chocolate.
Where to find the author:
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/groups/angelmartinez
About the Narrator
Vance Bastian loves being a professional storyteller. He writes urban fantasy about sandmen and reapers. He has grown his acting and voice background into a career performing voice-over work and narration for both radio and audiobooks. He is also a founding host of the WROTE podcast – bringing you interviews and news of authors who write, perform, and tell LGBTQ stories. When nobody’s looking, Vance is a complete sci-fi and fantasy geek.
For more on Vance, please visit:
Tour Dates & Stops:
14-Dec: MM Good Book Reviews
I have a number of paperbacks, most of which are signed, to giveaway. Over the between now (11 Mar 2017) and 31 Mar 2017, every comment on the blog (this post and all other new posts), will be entered to win 1 of these paperbacks. There are also some misc swag items, so there will be a few packs of these to give away as well.
Thank you so much for your support over the last 4 years. Prism will be closing its doors on 1 April 2017. All content will remain available, but no new content will appear after 31 Mar 2017. As such all request forms have been turned off. Again Thank you,
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