PLUTO HAS LEFT THE UNDERWORLD
A Novel
What happens when the Roman god of death gets bored with his job and decides to take a vacation in suburban New Jersey? After two millennia of processing souls and managing cosmic bureaucracy, Pluto has had enough. Tired of stamping "APPROVED FOR LIMBO" on every form that crosses his obsidian desk, he opens an interdimensional portal, aiming for a peaceful meadow—and crash-lands in a Walmart checkout line instead. Welcome to New Lethum, New Jersey, where the most exciting thing that usually happens is the annual debate over snow removal policies.
But when a polite man in expensive robes starts paying for groceries with authentic Roman gold coins and performing elaborate funeral ceremonies for deceased pigeons, life gets interesting fast. Soon Pluto is living in a haunted Victorian house (the ghosts are delighted to finally have a roommate who appreciates their work), revolutionizing efficiency at the local DMV (turns out divine administrative experience transfers surprisingly well), and falling in love with Barb, the town's philosophical funeral director who's the first person in centuries to make him actually think about what his job means. But Pluto's not the only cosmic entity discovering the joys of suburban life.
When Venus opens a matchmaking service, Mercury becomes addicted to energy drinks while working food delivery, and Mars organizes the most tactical neighborhood watch in New Jersey history, the Roman pantheon starts to wonder: maybe there's more to existence than duty and paperwork. The problem? The cosmic administration wants their death god back. The underworld is experiencing "technical difficulties" (people keep showing up to their own funerals), federal agents are asking uncomfortable questions, and Pluto must choose between cosmic responsibility and the happiness he's found among mortals who think efficient government service is miraculous.
Pluto Has Left the Underworld is a hilarious and surprisingly touching story about finding joy in unexpected places, the bureaucracy of the afterlife, and what happens when ancient gods discover that the secret to happiness might be as simple as choosing your own breakfast cereal. Perfect for fans of Terry Pratchett, Christopher Moore, and anyone who's ever wondered if there's a better way to run things—whether "things" means the DMV or the entire cosmic order.
