Nether by Jason Beymer

Burklin has a crap life. He is part of an unholy trinity dedicated to keeping the adolescent demon Lord Avnas “Max” McPhee alive. This is a difficult and messy task, since Max is a serial killer and a moron. Low man on the trinity totem pole, Garrick follows Max from crime scene to crime scene, cleaning up Max’s gory mess and stashing mutilated bodies behind Hoppy’s Diner.

The rest of the trinity includes Burklin’s ex-wife, shape-shifter Lorraine, and his sadistic boss/possible father, Garrick. Three years ago, Garrick tore out Burklin’s soul and put it into a miniature dachshund, Pearl. Now Pearl talks, Burklin is an impotent wuss, Lorraine is sleeping with Garrick, and the group has two more years to protect Max. If they manage to get the asshat to his twentieth birthday, all the demons of hell will be set loose upon the Earth, and the trinity will be awarded the entire beachfront paradise of Iraq.

There is simply no one to like in this book. Even minor characters like doormen and security guards are slimy, dumb and disgusting. Then there is Pearl. You would think a dog, especially a talking one, would be a cute sidekick. Pearl says some funny things, but her eating habits make me nauseous.

Reading Nether, I wanted to spray my Kindle with Lysol. I felt the vinegar-smelling ichor called Netherite seeping onto my fingers. Brilliant! Nether gets three and a half tombstones as a superior example of creating and maintaining atmosphere and mood. Every word oozed and smelled — blackest comedy at its foulest. Now, does anyone know if it is safe to bleach a keyboard?

Book Stats:

  • Paperback: 264 pages
  • Publisher: Beer & TV (December 18, 2012)
  • Language: English
  • ISBN-10: 0615729509
  • ISBN-13: 978-0615729503

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Burklin has a crap life. He is part of an unholy trinity dedicated to keeping the adolescent demon Lord Avnas “Max” McPhee alive. This is a difficult and messy task, since Max is a serial killer and a moron. Low man on the trinity totem pole, Garrick follows Max from crime scene to crime scene, …

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About Marie

Marie’s first memory of reading is at 3 years of age and involved a Pizza Inn placemat. Her family was amused by her pronunciation of Oh-clay-loma. Luckily, her speech and subject matter picked up speed after that. Now Marie can’t wait until Matrix-like technology is real and she can absorb a book by plugging it into her brain/hard drive. She will always love the smell and feel of words on paper, but let’s face it – there just aren’t enough hours in a human lifetime to take in all the great stories out there. Marie pushes paper during the day but on weekends you can find her hiding backstage, doing tech jobs for live theaters. Her favorite place to read is in her giant claw-foot bathtub, with bubbles, a fruit & cheese plate, and an icy martini. Ok, she hasn’t actually got any of that. She makes due with Mr. Bubble, a box of cheese crackers, and a Diet Coke. Marie loves book nooks, dogs, scary movies, and teasing those with coulrophobia. She lives in Wichita, Kansas, with her weapon of mass destruction, a rescue dog otherwise known as Piglet.

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