It’s time for the widely anticipated Critique Partner Blogfest. If you’re curious about how it works, check out the original post here

Remember, when you’re done here go make sure to check out the other people participating. Even if you’re not looking for readers, if you find a story that piques your interest, this is a great time to start a new friendship and read something amazing before the rest of the word gets to it.

My story’s stats:

• Title: APATHY’S HERO (currently about 65k words. I write short drafts and bulk them up in revisions)
• GENRE/AGE: Adult Contemporary Fantasy
• PROGRESS: I’m halfway between first and final, not done, but not rough any more
• TYPE OF FEEDBACK: Ideally I’d love to find more people interested in reading the whole thing and telling me what they think of characterization, story, pacing, all that good stuff. I wouldn’t complain about line edits, though it’s not necessary.

So, that being said, here’s my story info

Blurb
Immortality has taught Conner the benefits of not caring. For instance, it makes it easier to cope with losing friends and lovers when the gods duke it out. When Ronnie — the woman he loved and watched die four thousand years ago — reappears in his life, he remembers how much it hurts to give a damn.

The ‘you don’t mess with me, I don’t mess with you’ atmosphere of the strip club where Conner is a bouncer suits him. Strippers come and go and rarely register on his radar. Until Lexi. The new dancer brushes off his advances, but always shows up when he’s trying to discover why his past has been resurrected.

Despite attempts to distract him, Conner uncovers a centuries old assassination plot involving Ronnie. Two of the higher powers on Ronnie’s hit list are already dead, and the gods are fighting back. When the god of death sets a flaming madman loose on Atlanta, the burning city and body count are only a hint of the chaos the battle could wreak.

Ronnie’s escalating war with the heavens will destroy everyone who gets in the way, including Lexi. Conner has the power to stop the carnage, but he has to decide whether Lexi and the rest of the world are worth saving. On the other hand, choosing to care may cost Conner his life, or worse, his sanity.

First 500 words

The wooden post next to Conner shattered. He shut his eyes and turned away from the shrapnel, cringing when the splinters dug into his face. At least they hadn’t hit any soft tissue. His skin would be fine, but wood chips in the eyes meant blurry vision for a couple of hours.

Maybe he shouldn’t have come to the frat party. It had become a habit whenever Janus was hosting one in Atlanta. It was a good way to see what some of the more prolific gods were up to. But when Conner thought about it, the parties always ended up being more trouble than they were worth.

The assault stopped and he counted to ten. He saw the source of the destruction as soon as he dared look. Heavy vines had worked their way up the beam, weaving into the worn wood and forcing it apart in places. To his right, a bunch of grapes bloomed to full ripeness in a matter of seconds. Someone had pissed off one of the muses at the party. Typical.

Conner brushed the debris from his shirt, frowning when a few splinters snagged the silk. It was almost two-hundred years old. It was probably time to toss it anyway. He stepped out of the way of the vines crawling through the basement of the frat house, letting them continue their journey.

A familiar prickle whispered over him, like a million tiny pins rolling across his skin. One of his mother, Artemis’, druids. That would explain the bonfires being lit one after another on the oriental throw rugs. The flames leapt toward the open-beam ceiling, dancing with the college-age girls removing their clothing. Sparks licked at the carpet and hardwood beneath, never scarring either.

Conner didn’t know why he’d expected this party to be different from any of the others. Nothing noteworthy had happened at one in decades.

Boys in their late teens and early twenties watched the stripping coeds with wide eyes. A rolling bar sat untouched in the corner, neglected keg poking out on one side. Glasses of wine had appeared at some point and were being passed around the room.

It didn’t take Conner long to find the source of the bedlam. Standing near the staircase was a blond woman in what looked like a modern-day toga. The top glittered in the firelight like white satin, tied over both shoulders and not meeting again until her waist. Her white skirt barely covered her ass. Despite her angry body language and fluid gestures, she never blinked. Yup, she was one of Dionysius’s muses.

Her verbal sparring companion was dressed more conservatively. A flowing skirt brushed her ankles, and her sweater hugged her curves without revealing any skin. Her hair brushed her waist, bouncing and shifting each time she said something. There was nothing about the druid that was visually obvious, but Conner recognized his mother’s power pouring off her in waves.

“I leave for two minutes…” Janus’s voice came from next to him.

Conner turned his head enough to glance at the god before looking back at the chaos. It was probably time to leave.

Sarcasm hung heavy in Janus’s voice. “Thanks for breaking things up for me, hero.”

“Not a problem.” Conner crossed his arms and leaned back against a still-standing pillar.