top of page
  • Writer's pictureboundlessbr

Book Series Spotlight: Gods Inc. Series by Gabriele Russo

Incompetent Gods By Gabriele Russo

Book 1: Gods Inc. Series

Fiery Seas Publishing

December 13, 2016


Amazon ~ Barnes & Noble

Kobo ~ iBooks

In a dimension created by the ancient gods, most are now stuck working at Gods Incorporated. CEO Queen Louhi Pohjola, a mortal demigoddess turned vampire (on a diet), holds the planet in the palm of her hand and while she cannot by any stretch of the imagination be called a nice person, there’s worse lurking in her shadow.

Goblin, a bitter hybrid with childhood issues and shape-shifting abilities, has a grudge against the world. First on his to-do list is getting rid of the Queen and take her place by forcing the titan Ba’al to devour her.

As her friends and allies fall one-by-one into Goblin’s traps, the Queen’s fate seems inevitable. With no one left to fight, will Ba’al’s friends, a bunch of over-the-hill incompetent gods, be enough to stop Goblin from turning the world into hell?


3. Conversations of Drunken Gods

Hours later, the conversation had taken a serious turn downhill.

Manitou, the solemnity of his bearing marred by the feather headdress hanging askew on one side of his head, scrutinized his glass. “Do we drink because we are thirsty, or are we thirsty because we drink?”

Thor waved his hammer. “Who cares?” He emptied his beer. “War on thirst! War on sobriety!”

“Where’s my funnel?” asked Ah-Peku, searching under a table.

“I need another drink… Hic,” said Ba’al, leaning precariously on his elbow. “I’m starting to have blood… Hic! In my alcohol.”

Sheela gave him the bottle she was nursing. There was barely a drop left.

Ba’al waved the bottle. “Bar… Hic… Girl?”

The barmaid let go of the column she was holding, drunkenly leaned forward to grab a new bottle and fell flat on her face.

Sheela peered over the bar. “Well?”

Ba’al hiccupped again. A strange pain twisted his insides, piercing through the drunken haze. It felt like something he had not experienced in thousands of years: a tug at his central core. He breathed slowly and it faded.

Bacchus, a fat and normally jolly god, appeared behind the counter. With his reddened fair skin, he always looked two seconds away from a heart attack. As he took a moment to survey the scene before him, a new vein started pulsating on his forehead.

“Gods!” he shouted with disapproval. “I’ve asked you a thousand times to stop destroying my barmaids.” He picked up the girl and carried her out.

“Hey! What about… Hic! Our bottle… Hic!”

And there it was again: throbbing, pulling, burning. Another hiccup brought up a trickle of bile; either he needed to vomit, or he was being summoned.

If Gods Incorporated thought they could summon him at this hour, they had another thing coming. He swallowed to quiet the pain and slid down his stool, holding on to the bar to stay upright. Two steps forward, one step back, breathing deeply and swallowing the whole way, he slalomed around the tables and got to the bathroom. Where he lost consciousness, draped on the toilet bowl.


Inclement Gods by Gabriele Russo

Book 2: Gods Inc. Series


Fiery Seas Publishing

July 4, 2017

Amazon ~ Barnes & Noble

Kobo ~ iBooks

When you live in a world pullulating with gods, can you truly be an atheist? Well, yes…if you know a way to get rid of them. Mysantheos, a fanatic atheist at the head of a powerful lobby/terrorist organization, has created a weapon able to kill gods and his kamikaze army is ready to attack. As the divine bodies pile up, resentment builds at Gods Incorporated and violent factions start pushing for the extermination of the human race, and the CEO/Queen Louhi is running out of ideas to calm them down. Hopefully, her black ops teams are doing better. But will the Nerds and Richard (a down-on-his-luck private eye), saddled as they are with a group of angry gods, manage to find Mysantheos before all hell breaks loose?



Down in another section of the basements of Picchu Palace, Bill the court torturer was at work.

The enormous black man looked depressed (just about as much as the half-naked prisoner lying on the table). He was holding a small white feather, made even more incongruous by his costume of studded black leather.

The man standing beside him also contrasted sharply with the décor. Older and distinguished, his dark brown hair graying at the temples, he was wearing a tailored navy blue three-piece suit with a violet silk tie. He was of medium build, yet his stance exuded a subtle menace that comes with long years of training.

However, right now, he felt as bemused as the torturer.

“Andrew,” said Bill, throwing down the feather in disgust, “this is not working… And his feet smell. Besides,” his voice took on a pleading tone, “I have all these cool instruments, can’t I use one of them, just this once?”

Andrew sighed. Before becoming Queen Louhi’s chief of security he had been a secret agent and this type of torture did not sit well with him either. The man had been caught hiring an assassin to kill the Queen, so what if he lost a few limbs? But she had her rules, and so, once again, the wonderful implements decorating the torture chamber remained unused.

Andrew let his gaze wander on the Iron Maiden and the Bastonata and let out another long breath. “I wish we could. The Queen should join us soon, maybe you can convince her. Gods know I’ve tried.”

Bill groaned and picked up the feather. “This is just all kinds of wrong… I mean, have you tried this outfit?”

“The suit makes the monkey, Bill,” said the Queen, walking in the room behind a guard, who, after giving Andrew a salute, left the room.

The Queen was in her usual court attire: a black and royal blue military uniform that set off her ivory skin and abundant mane of red hair. Her green eyes were glittering, as they often did when she found situations humorous.

“I think it’s: ‘the habit makes the monk’, your Majesty,” said Andrew.

“Same diff. The point is that he has to look the part.”

“Actually, the point is that it’s not working,” whispered Bill.

The Queen frowned.

“Well, it’s not,” said the big man in a louder voice.

“He’s right,” said Andrew. “And it’s basically degrading for both of them. A prisoner has the right to actual torture.”

“I just got this new impaling stick…” said Bill hopefully.

The Queen shook her head. “The pal is for execution, not torture.”

“Not this one. Look, it’s so thick, it takes at least a day for it to reach any major organs.”

The man on the table blinked.

The Queen glared at Bill and Andrew, then her eyes lit up. “Are your balls ticklish?”

Bill’s cheeks reddened and Andrew coughed.

“I beg your pardon, Your Majesty?” he asked after an uncomfortable silence.

“I said: Are your balls ticklish?” Not waiting for an answer, she turned to Bill and pointed to the prisoner. “Take off his pants!”


About the Author:

Gabriele Russo, AKA Lucie-Gabrielle Jolicoeur-Rousseau, was born in Quebec City amidst a family of book lovers – her father had dreamed of being a writer and both of her brothers are published authors.

Since she earned her Bachelor’s in History, it was no surprise (except to her) that she ended up working in restaurants, eventually owning two, which almost drove her mad. She sold them and was nursed back to pseudo-sanity by Douglas Adams and Terry Pratchett.

That’s when she answered the family calling and decided to write. Armed with her ideas for the Gods Inc. series she went back to the University and got her Master’s in Creative Writing.

She now lives with her husband in Culpeper, Virginia, where she divides her time between painting, ripping apart and reconstructing her recently bought historical home, playing tennis and, of course, writing more books.

Social Media:




6 views0 comments
bottom of page