Burn in Hades … the fantasy novel I wrote … is set in the spiritual Underworld (the realm of the dead).

And I want to give you an exciting Underworld tour.

Now, I could blabber all day about the intricate world-building details I put into that universe.

And perhaps you’d be hooked on my every word.

But I refuse to walk you through all that info-dumping in the style of a dry Wikipedia article.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with an unbiased, objective perspective that delivers information in a clear, concise, and formal tone backed by reliable sources.

But I’m a freakin’ fantasy author who prefers to zig when every other author zags.

I insist on putting my style into everything I do.

And tours are more immersive through the eyes of people who’ve been there. Not some stuffy article.

​

So, let’s make this underworld tour memorable by adding an unhinged twist!

​

Here’s the fictional setup:

I possess a secret piece of technology that can transport you into the reality of stories.

And recently, I used my device to slingshot myself and a small group of voyagers into the universe of Burn in Hades to give them a tour of a few locations that appear in the early chapters of Burn In Hades.

​

The tour went great!

​

At least, I thought so … but everyone rated their Underworld experience with a 1-star and left scathing reviews.

Now, in real life, it’s in bad taste for an author to respond to negative reviews.

And I never do.

But my fictional self is a proud rule ignorer.

He … err, *I* don’t merely break rules …

Because a rule breaker must acknowledge that a rule even exists.

​

Which, fictional me, does not.

​

(Plus, before I became an author, I worked in many customer-facing positions. And I’ve had to bite my tongue too many times to keep my job. But now, with the magic of fiction, I can say all the snarky things I’ve always wanted to say and feel ZERO guilt like a total sociopath. 😈)

Besides …

“It’s my email list and I can do what I want,” said the most maturest author who ever adulted.

And I REALLY want to share the tour’s results with you so that you can get a first-hand account of what the afterlife is like in the fictional universe I created.

So, in the spirit of transparency…

Below are some blunt, unexpected, hilarious, and unhinged reviews of the afterlife experience.

​

AND … My reactions to them.

​

(Don’t worry. There are no spoilers if you haven’t read Burn in Hades. But if you’ve already read it, look for Easter eggs and foreshadowing galore.)

Now, let’s get to roasting this first reviewer, who I’m dubbing Scorchia McWhine—a name as fitting as her eyeball-searing sob story.

“I feel personally victimized by my experience in the Underworld, a so-called afterlife realm. The skies—oh, don’t get me started on those garish, burning skies! They shift colors like a toddler with a stolen pack of highlighters, scorching your eyeballs with every shade of neon misery. I expected an afterlife with some dignity, perhaps a tasteful gray or a soothing black, but no, I got a psychedelic inferno that looks like it was curated by a pyromaniac with no taste.”

​

—Scorchia McWhine

Look, you signed waivers, watched safety briefings, and paid top dollar for a one-of-a-kind jaunt through my Burn in Hades Underworld extravaganza, and now you’ve got the nerve to cry about it?

​

Boo-freaking-hoo!

​

Newsflash, Scorchia: The Underworld doesn’t do dignity. It does death, drama, and razzle-dazzle.

If you feel personally victimized by the Underworld’s blazing skies? Good. That’s the Underworld’s signature.

​

It’s what I call art.

​

You got a front-row seat to a neon apocalypse curated by a divine arsonist with a vision and impeccable taste.

Even all the Karens are side-eyeing you for waltzing into the realm of the dead expecting a Martha Stewart-approved color palette. Book a tour of a DMV waiting room if you want muted tones.

The annoying part is, you might’ve given the tour five stars if I had taken you to Yomi. It’s the monochromatic void you’re looking for.

But if you can’t handle me at my garish, burning skies, you don’t deserve my tasteful gray or soothing black.

And let’s not forget—You paid for a Jurassic Park-style thrill ride and came back alive. Not a single singed hair on your head, despite prancing through a spiritual inferno where souls literally burn for eternity. You got the full VIP experience: no squals ate you, no rivers of lava swallowed you, and you didn’t even trip over a pile of barbot skulls like some unfortunate voyagers.

​

That’s a five-star miracle.

​

Next up?

Let’s give a warm—or should I say scorching—welcome to Snoozeflake VonGrumble, the sleep-deprived diva who expected the Underworld to be their personal spa retreat.

“Don’t even try to keep track of time here. The absence of a proper day-night cycle is a disgrace. I’m forced to count my sleep cycles like some cave-dwelling hermit, and let me tell you, trying to nap in a realm where the ground is either molten lava or frostbitten despair is not conducive to restful slumber. I haven’t had a decent nap since I arrived, and my soul deserves better than this!”

​

—Snoozeflake VonGrumble

Hold up … !!!!!

​

This complaint is from an actual resident spirit of the Underworld. I don’t know how that got into this batch of reviews.

But I’ll roast this crybaby anyway … simply because they seem to think the Underworld owes them a Tempur-Pedic and a lullaby!

Snoozeflake, stop whining about the absence of a proper day-night cycle. You’re in the bad place. If you wanted a Hilton resort with blackout curtains, you should have made better choices in life.

Sorry. That’s harsh. But you’re right. Your soul does deserve better. Your soul deserves better than for me to lie to you. Your soul deserves a reality check!

You’re in the realm of the dead, where time’s as irrelevant as the life you led before your demise. You don’t get a cozy sunset to tuck you in.

​

You get underworldly ambiance.

​

The ground’s either a toasty magma flow or an icy misery rink. Get over it. Or you’ll be waiting an eternity for that memory foam mattress.

Who’s next on the chopping block?

“The conditions here are beyond deplorable. Eternal hunger? Are you kidding me? Nobody warned me I’d be starving for eternity, clawing at my stomach while demons cackle and sip their artisanal brimstone lattes. The preachers back in the living world conveniently left that out of their sermons, didn’t they? And the so-called second death process? It’s cruel and unnecessarily theatrical. Reducing my essence to ash like I’m some cheap campfire marshmallow is not the grand exit I envisioned for my soul. I paid my dues in life—taxes, jury duty, even that time I sat through my neighbor’s poetry reading—and this is the thanks I get? A one-way ticket to a realm that can’t even decide if it’s a furnace or a freezer?”

​

—Starvin’ Ashbottom

Wait a darn minute!

​

This is another complaint from a spirit of the Underworld!

Something’s gone severely wrong. This isn’t supposed to happen.

One spiritual complaint was a fluke. Two is a pattern. I’m gonna have to sort this out.

But not before a quick roast!

Alright, Starvin’ Ashbottom! Nobody promised you a snack bar in the realm of the dead. Those demons sipping brimstone lattes earned their brew, unlike you, drama queen.

You’re out here complaining about eternal hunger, and I’m over here trying to run a multi-dimensional tour operation! Your grind and my grind ain’t the same.

And you’re lucky … because I need to cut this reaction short to investigate why the heck I’m getting complaints from spirits like you instead of from the actual voyagers I took on a very exclusive, totally-not-cursed tour through the Underworld.

Seriously, what gives?

This is beyond a pattern; it’s a full-blown existential crisis for my burgeoning authorial empire.

So, let’s turn our attention away from ’’Ashbottom’ and talk about you, my adventurous reader.

Here’s the deal: despite ending this glorious roasting session sooner than expected, I’m not leaving you hanging.

I mean, where’s the fun in that?

​

I’ve compiled something just for you…

​

It’s a FREE Google Doc where I’ve gathered all the unadulterated, deliciously whiny 1-star reviews from my recent Underworld tour.

But it doesn't feature my unhinged commentary.

Instead, you get to experience the raw, unfiltered disappointment of those who clearly weren’t ready for a true adventure.

You’ll find gems about delightful Underworld realms like the brittle palace grounds of the Mayan realm Xibalba, the chilling heights of the Latvian canyons of Vinsaule, and even the supposedly serene (but clearly not serene enough for these folks) Paradise.

Plus, there are some truly uninspired gripes about our charming mythical creatures—the perpetually wretched hellhounds, the slimy, nightmare-inducing squals, and those adorably grotesque barbots.

​

And it’s all yours, absolutely free!

​

No strings, no hidden demonic contracts. Just pure, unadulterated reader entertainment.

And who doesn’t like FREE fiction?

So, if these reviews and my perfectly reasonable, totally unbiased reactions made you laugh, giggle, smirk, or perhaps just ponder the sheer audacity of complaining about eternal hunger in the afterlife, then don’t just sit there.

Go forth and witness the horror (or rather, the hilarious ineptitude) of my 1-star tourists.

CLICK THE GOOGLE DOC LINK BELOW TO WITNESS THE UNDERWORLD’S WORST REVIEWS (NO COMMENTARY, JUST PURE UNADULTERATED COMPLAINTS!):

​

​https://docs.google.com/1-Star Reviews of Michael Martin's Underworld Tour​

Michael Martin

​

​