Patrick provides an in-depth review of my two books, and makes a few guesses on what is to come. For those leery of spoilers, the author did a great job of warning you before reaching content that could spoil the read.
One of my favourite quotes from the review appears early on:
What I really love about Ms. Chartres’ writing is how she balances character moments, action and gore, with some intimate scenes thrown in for good measure.
I’d like to take the time to thank Patrick Webb for this lovely review. It is truly a blessing to have the opportunity to see how much a reader enjoyed one of my works. Thank you!
A lovely review from Rachel Bross, author of Graham Whitiker: They Call Him Traitor on The Grand. Featured on her YouTube Channel, this episode of Make a Writer’s Day talks about household gumball machines, ant colonies, book covers, and of course book reviews. Please note, that if you want to skip to the reviews, forward to 19:00 minutes in.
I encourage you the time to watch her review and subscribe to her channel. She covers a wide variety of topics related to writing, and will review whatever she has a chance to read!
The world was marred by a haze as it often is when waking up from a deep sleep. When she looked up, the crater caused by her impact came into focus. The visible internal structure of the wall, followed by cracked brick, made her shudder.
The room was bathed in a dull light which provided more detail but did nothing to convince her there was something important here. Nothing that required her—
A loud moan caused Edith’s ears to perk up. She sat up straight without trouble and flexed her wings to confirm that everything was healed. Certain that she was back to full fighting force, Edith stood up. Her eyes lingered on the sight of the hallway and adjoining living room, just to make sure that this spectre was not going to interfere.
When satisfied, she navigated around the ejecta and bed. Before walking up to the window, Edith noticed that a pane was broken. However, the hole was much smaller than expected, and the lack of debris implied it had been cleaned up well before she showed up.
From the corner of her eye, Edith spotted some movement. Her eyes immediately focused on a tall woman of mixed ethnicity. Even from this distance, the traits that made her a knockout were easily discerned. The fact that this woman had an imposing height, only made her all the more attractive, since that was a trait Edith found alluring.
As her eyes lingered on the details of those lips, Edith noticed someone moving below. Even though the other gal was on her knees, the silhouette was unmistakable. Edith had spent far too many hours running over the details of that toned figure, petite stature, and elfin-ears, to mistake Clara for anyone else. Although, she did have to admit the black wings were new.
“You bitch!” Edith exclaimed. “How could you betray me like that?”
Disclaimer: This chapter is currently in development. There are likely typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. Please do not treat this as a polished and completed work!
“Play with your berry patch,” Clara said from out of the shadows.
Edith unsuccessfully sought out the source of those words. The world before her was pale and grey, an existence devoid of detail. She associated this place with a poorly drawn out sketch and wondered if this was all part of a dream.
That would not have been the first time she woke up in a dream state. Most of the hunters she knew were able to manipulate their dreamworlds as they saw fit, so Edith was deeply disappointed that this was the best she could come up with.
To test her hypothesis, Edith focused her thoughts and observed the world transition from a pale imitation, to a place filled with vivid colour and detail, confirming that she was the master of this domain. Not bad for a gal who had not slept in almost a century.
“So why am I dreaming?” Edith asked herself.
The world morphed in response to her query. She was faced with a scene devoid of light, a dark room that lacked any details. The scene was distinctly familiar, but her conscious mind was not fully in control.
Up ahead, there was another version of herself, the well-dressed flapper who looked like she had just come out of the hen coop. Edith walked around her avatar, taking in the scene, and noted that her copy was observing something down the hallway. Seeing that spectre made her flinch, just in time to witness the powerful transfer of energy that launched her copy into the wall.
The sight of that impact brought back a dull memory of the pain, none of which was reflected in her current state of being. Edith had never thought about this incarnation’s ability to heal, let alone if it happened at an accelerated rate.
Disclaimer: This chapter is currently in development. There are likely typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. Please do not treat this as a polished and completed work!
Last month, I was interviewed by Sarah Walker of Hidden Gems, a talk-show for avid readers and aspiring authors.
Interview by Sarah Walker on Hidden Gems
This interview can be found here, and features The Van Helsing Paradox, along with five questions that required a lot of thought to answer! I highly recommend that you check it out!
Hopefully Sarah’s YouTube channel will pick up as she interviews more authors!
Biscuits and Gravy is a favourite down south. While not as common here, this recipe makes for a thick and hearty breakfast that is sure to put a smile on your face.
Elizabeth nodded, Clara began taking in the building’s details. The first thing she noticed was the presence of a doorman who kept a vigil over the entrance. Still, she had to assume there were cameras or other forms of security. With a bit of thought, she could get past the doorman, but that might risk exposure.
The last thing she needed was to draw in a swarm of constabulary. Clara was armed with what were sure to be illegal heaters, and the shotgun had a sawed off barrel. While it lost all effectiveness at range, it would do a number in close quarters.
She shifted her wings, not accustomed to keeping them constrained for so long. While annoying, it was either that or cause a small panic once people realised that her wings were not props.
Then she noticed the building was surrounded by alleys which meant there were fire escapes. The hunter smirked as a naughty little thought came across her mind.
“You mentioned a broken window?” Clara asked.
Elizabeth turned to face Clara before saying, “Oh yeah. Just down that alley.”
The alley was big enough to accommodate two way traffic and was filled with large trash bins. At this time of day, the sunshine was on the other side of the building which meant this side was well shaded and would have ample cover when breaking into the apartment.
“You’re sure?” Clara pressed.
“Yep,” Elizabeth replied, her voice remaining calm and steady.
“Good,” Clara said. “Have you ever used a peashooter?”
Elizabeth’s eyes betrayed the confusion she had over this terminology. Fortunately, some long lost memory of a gangster movie rushed to the forefront of her mind and filled in the blanks.
Clara was not sure if Elizabeth knew how to handle a weapon. She supposed the use of armaments did not come naturally to social workers. Although, technically Clara had been a nun, and that never stopped her from being trained to use a wide gamut of weapons.
Clara smiled and spread out her arms inviting the other for a hug. When Elizabeth moved in to reciprocate, Clara slipped a pistol between them. It was obvious to the recipient that this was not the first time such an exchange took place.
Right before Clara pulled away, she got on the tips of her toes and whispered into Elizabeth’s ear, “Clip is in, round is chambered, and there is no safety. Just squeeze on the trigger, and it will fire. But remember that the first shot will need a tighter squeeze.”
Before Elizabeth could ask, Clara kissed her directly on the lips. Despite this being nothing more than for show, there was a lot of passion behind the act.
“Not now,” Clara said as she pulled away. “Save it for the bedroom,” she added, while a uniformed police officer passed nearby.
Once the officer moved out of sight, Clara grabbed the other by the hand, jaywalked across the street, and stopped just at the threshold of the alley. She then pushed Elizabeth against the wall with just enough force to make passers-by take notice.
“I want you,” Clara said. “I can’t wait for us to get home,” she added with a wink, pointing suggestively toward the alley.
Wry smiles on the faces of several passersbys hinted that they got the idea. Elizabeth did not initially make the connection, and memories of this morning in the bathroom only served to cloud the issue. Still, once everything came into focus, the suggestion made her face turn a bright red.
Clara did not wait for an answer. She chuckled, smiled, and headed off into the alley. Elizabeth, led by her arm, followed her guardian angel.
They ventured deeper into the alley until they came across a cluster of dumpsters. Clara hauled Elizabeth off to the side and leaned in for a kiss which permitted her to disappear from sight.
“Keep your eyes mostly closed and pretend that I’m undoing your pants,” Clara said. “Then act like I’m about to play with your berry patch.”
Elizabeth played the game well since she was no stranger to faking sexual gratification. She looked down both sides of the alleyway and saw nothing more than foot traffic. How fortunate that one person lingered in the hopes of catching some of the show.
When Clara dropped to her knees, Elizabeth feigned surprise and closed her eyes until all she saw were silhouettes. As though a lover was actually between her legs, Elizabeth pushed her head back letting out a deep, contented sigh.
Clara had been busy stowing away her jacket in order to release her wings, but when that sound registered, she became inexplicably aroused.
Disclaimer: This chapter is currently in development. There are likely typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. Please do not treat this as a polished and completed work!
Evelyn hated riding in the boot of a car. Every bump or hard turn tossed her around the compartment like a rag doll. Still, this option was far better than making a run through the sewer system or waiting in that bar for someone to come sniffing around.
When the car stopped, probably for a red light, her phone chimed. The imp checked her notifications and smiled. Evelyn hated having to wait to repay her debts because that meant someone had leverage over her. That had been a common thread throughout her life, and the last thing she needed was for that habit to start up again after death.
“I’m ready to hit it on all sixes, and make this my declaration of independence,” Evelyn replied with a giggle.
* * * *
“Evelyn says that she is ready to give it her all to repay her debt,” Clara said.
Elizabeth quirked a brow. How in the world could Evelyn’s sentence equate to that? Nevertheless they clearly managed to establish a line of communication. Just in time, too, because the phone’s battery was draining fast.
“Now, I want you to ask her this,” Clara said.
Clara noticed that the waitress was hovering nearby, so she leaned over the table and whispered the rest into Elizabeth’s ear, all the while giving her friend an eyeful.
Disclaimer: This chapter is currently in development. There are likely typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. Please do not treat this as a polished and completed work!
Essence: Amber is the third of a science fiction series written by Nick Braker. This novel takes off right where Essence: Alta ends and brings this continuing saga to the next level.
While the previous books were heavily focused on limited locations, allowing for a focus on character growth, Essence: Amber enables the reader to really sink their teeth into a universe that, until now, we’ve only had a taste of.
Now that the events explored previously have come to an head, the world beyond is blown wide open. The reader quickly realises that there is much they don’t know, and that the next page might bring revelations of treachery, conquests, or the threat of eradication. This uncertainty will leave the reader to question the fate of the group until the very end.
Alas, there is still much in this universe left to explore. While the main storyline has ended cleanly, there are other avenues left to explore. Those will hopefully be answered in Essence: Candice due for release December 2020. I can’t wait!
Clara and Elizabeth sat facing one another in a booth while waiting for their order to arrive. This was an old style diner, one mostly found during the Second World War. This place featured a central counter, kitchen behind the back wall, and booths on the outside, adjacent to wrap-around windows.
Clara was suspicious of the black liquid in her cup. Despite having a bowl full of sugar packets and cream, she doubted that this concoction would rival last night’s drink. Meanwhile, Elizabeth was dividing her time between her phone and whatever odd quirk that this blast from the past dredged up. She was tempted to ask about her love/hate relationship with the coffee but preferred to witness it first-hand.
This morning, Elizabeth was not getting any enjoyment from catching up on the endless notifications she had amassed since her last check-in. Normally she would have loved to catch up on what her family and friends were posting on Bealzabook and Twitcher, but last night’s events made that all seem inconsequential.
Nonetheless, she quickly responded to her closest friends and ignored the rest. Elizabeth found it odd that there were no notifications from her wife, although being on tour meant she was always in transit or performing. Before putting down the phone, she scrolled through her apps. There was a nagging sense that there was something she needed to do, but could not remember what.
Meanwhile, Clara picked up the mug of coffee, swirling the contents as though they would crawl out of the cup like some lovecraftian creature. Once assured that the beverage was safe, she took a cautious sip. The reaction was both immediate and comical, doubly so coming from a woman old enough to be Elizabeth’s great-grandmother. This scene reminded her of a child tasting something bitter for the first time.
“Tastes like this coffee has been burning over a flame all night,” Clara said. She then eyed the sugar packets and said, “So, teaspoons of sugar are now individually packaged and sealed?”
Once the words registered, Elizabeth snapped out of her recursive loop. She then looked at the bowl of packets and chuckled.
“Yeah,” Elizabeth replied. “Why do you ask?”
“Well… Isn’t it wasteful?” Clara mused while tearing apart four packets.
Elizabeth was about to explain how they were not all sugar, but that was a lesson better saved for later. Although, she did wonder if Clara would notice the taste of artificial sweeteners.
“People can take packets with them when the order is to go, it is cleaner, and saves them having to refill the dispensers,” Elizabeth said. “Besides, the paper can be recycled.”
Clara shrugged, taking a sip, and this time, her reaction was more subdued. Another four packets were sacrificed in an attempt to make this swill safe for human consumption. When she finished pouring in the sugar, she stirred the concoction and eyed the mound of paper.
“All of that waste for sugar,” Clara sighed, and eyed the creamer. “Are those recyclable too?”
Elizabeth was about to say something, but spotted something on the television. Despite the volume being muted, she managed to infer enough from the news headline and associated pictures to know what was going on.
“Before we came here, you mentioned something about reality being shattered?” Elizabeth asked.
“Ab-so-lutely,” Clara said unfazed by the change in subject.
Elizabeth ran a search on her phone to confirm her suspicions. On her first attempt, she found a relevant Wiki page in addition to several news sites that were covering the story. Every page echoed what she saw and confirmed that Victoria’s parents were back from the dead.
“What did Hecate say?” Elizabeth asked.
Clara grabbed a creamer and shook it, unsure if it was worth a try. All the while, she mulled over her conversation with Hecate in an attempt to refine her summary.
“When I died, Saint Peter talked about the chances of my becoming a goddess had I taken her up on the offer. He also mentioned that I could have ended up a chew toy for making the same deal,” Clara said.
“Why the lack of certainty?” Elizabeth asked.
Clara smiled while she pulled off the lid and sniffed the contents of the creamer, “He told me that our ability to choose throws a kink in determining the future.”
“So our actions are not?” Elizabeth began to ask, but could not think of the word.
“Predestined?” Clara said to confirm the other’s question. “No. Ultimately, every choice we make has an effect on how the world turns out,” she added while pouring in the cream.
“How was it shattered?” Elizabeth asked.
The milky white vortex in a sea of black was eventually stirred to a consistent tone of brown. Clara took a sip and paused, wondering if she could come to terms with her coffee.
“An experiment designed to alter outcomes,” Clara said while deciding on the fate of this so-called coffee. “Instead of altering a key choice in history, they ended up resurrecting alternate timelines and merging them with our own.”
“So…” Elizabeth said. “People who were declared dead years ago could be walking the earth unaware of their deaths?”
Clara took another sip. While no amount of sugar and cream would make this a great cup, she decided that it would do.
“A bit specific there,” Clara said with a grin.
“I saw them after you saved me,” Elizabeth replied. “I thought they were ghosts, but every major news network is covering that story, in addition to related news bites.”
Clara was about to ask, but she was reminded of another lingering priority. She casually retrieved the absconded phone from the inside pocket of her coat and tossed it at Elizabeth.
“Can you reach Evelyn on that thing?” Clara asked.
Elizabeth tapped on the screen and noted that it was in power save mode since it had an eight percent charge. Despite having a charger on hand, the cable she had was incompatible with this particular model.
She ran through the contact lists line by line, discounting entries that were obviously from the previous owner. Elizabeth then skipped over any numbers that were out of state. That helped to eliminate most of the entries except for Firecracker.
“Figures,” Elizabeth said. “She probably figured you wouldn’t be the one using this phone.”
Clara laughed before saying, “Girl from the reign of the Sun King assumes that a gal from the Roaring Twenties is going to have trouble adjusting to modern technology. Smart cookie.”
Elizabeth had never stopped to consider just how old her ex was. Once she put two and two together, she no longer questioned why Evelyn had been the best lay of her life.
“Yes, she is,” Elizabeth said. She clicked on the contact to open the messenger app, then looked up to ask, “So what is it that you want me to say?”
Clara leaned forward and said, “Tell her that I don’t want to be a dingle dangler, but I know who caused this off-time jive, and I’m curious if she’s interested in giving them the electric cure.”
Elizabeth’s eyes went wide and vacant. Clara snickered, since she expected that particular level of confusion.
“Relax. Write it out as I say it, so Evelyn will know that these messages are from me,” Clara said with a wink.
Disclaimer: This chapter is currently in development. There are likely typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. Please do not treat this as a polished and completed work!
