My Year With The Gods

by Holden Braithwaite

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Refined exotic escapism: An intense, adult, character-driven study of the absurd where humorous overtones mask a graphic, deeply subversive, perverse undercurrent in an ancient world adventure like no other.

Cursed from birth to remember everything except his own name an 11-year-old village idiot ('savant fou') creates chaos, outrage and regime change in Eudaemon (Aden) in 534CE when he, Andromeda and Scheherazade, goddesses of the hunt and fables join Hermes, messenger of the gods in his epic search for his long lost true love, Lesbia. Discovering on their chaotic way the scrolls containing the true Epectesy of St. Gregory of Nyssa, revealing something so shocking and socially explosive it was hidden for centuries - the key to the eternal cerebral orgasm. And the emancipation of women.

". . . Master swordsmen masquerading as wandering charioteers, wild beautiful goddesses rescued from slaver's dungeons, and now pearl-diving nuns on desert islands; clearly in the last 15 minutes of visceral mayhem and magic my miserable life had turned the corner into the fast lane."

The rabbi looked at her glumly.
“He didn’t listen to me. And here’s the result.”
“What? Short hair and naked breasts.”
“No, mistress. Even the stained whites I can live with,” he said, with dread in his voice. “The idiot boy has revealed the true Epectesy of St. Gregory of Nyssa.”
“Is there a false one?”
“No, my gracious hostess. There’s one anybody can read if they care to look for it. Which even Jewish scholars have studied. And the one only Aristophanes had. The original, full and unabridged version of the epectesy, mistress. Of the soul moving into oneness of God. As Gregory dictated to his personal scribe all those years ago. This revelation transcends all faiths. ”
“The key to the eternal cerebral orgasm,” Talia said quietly.
“Correct. But at the time publishing it would be so inflammatory and dangerous to the continued functioning of ‘normal’ society, the scribe persuaded his master to only release a heavily edited version, lest they both be burned alive by the ruler of Cappadocia.”
“They weren’t?”
“No. And as my friend told me with almost his dying breath, the original was hidden away by the scribe, and passed down from father to son, scholars all, until it ended up here with Aristophanes. Who being without issue, could only leave it in the care of an idiot gypsy boy who remembers everything except his own name.”

". .This would be a honeymoon on the beach few would forget in a hurry.
“Master Farouk, I have another for her cousin Juhanah,” I said, holding the large gold coin up. “But she’s not here.”
Farouk blinked.
“She’s . .” He looked at Sahar. “Mother, where’s Juju?”
“Where she always is when she’s not growing flowers or spying. She’s swinging.”
Demetrius, who was there with the serenely beautiful Qadr reached out and took the coin from my hand.
“Kid. Did I ever tell you the story of this?” he said, breaking the heavily pregnant silence.
“No, master. I’ve never seen one like it before.”
“Nobody has,” he said, biting it. “Because this was part of only ten ever struck by the Imperial Mint in Rome five hundred years ago on the command of Emperor Vespasian. But they were stolen and disappeared without trace before they could be released to commemorate the opening of the world’s first public toilets. . . . And as such are collectibles beyond price.”
This was very comforting to know.
Suddenly from being orphans with a very grim future, Hani and I had acquired an ocean-going yacht, a horse which spoke Greek and flew, priceless antiquities and a collection of morally corrosive literature even a pope would envy.. ."

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Top UK Customer Reviews

5.0 out of 5 stars
By IAN JAMES BRADY on 24 April 2016
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Perfectly perfect performance.

5.0 out of 5 stars Five Stars
By Brenda Potter on 23 April 2016
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Lovely story to read x