The Endgame: release date and pre-order links

I have enjoyed Chris James’s writing for many years. The Repulse series has been his BEST yet!! Can’t wait for the next installment – The Endgame. I’ve pre-purchased my copy already!!

Chris James's blog

The completion of a new novel leads to a lot of what I call “book admin”. The first and most important issue is the cover. The cover for The Endgame didn’t take long because I had it visualised in my head for some time while writing it, so I only had to play around for a few hours to create it. But in addition to that, all other aspects of my online presence need work. So, I have to update my biography for my website and Amazon, add the new cover to my header images and replace them on all social media platforms, and then let all of you know that the next book is on the way.

The Repulse Chronicles, Book Four: The Endgame will be published on Amazon’s Kindle on 30 May. The paperback will likely be available a few days before then. As regular readers will know…

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Decrescendo

Our voices smash against barren bedroom walls.

Questions, pleas, crash down upon the hallway floor

As we pass each other wordlessly.

The possible in life seems unlikely to us now.  

We hear only the faintest, constant, drum beat,

And it metes out our days.

44 words for d’Verse quadrille.

Broke

Nelson keeps his deformed left hand in his jeans pocket, rolling a two dollar coin between his three fingers. No matter what happens, with this coin in his pocket, he’s never broke. With two bucks, a person just can’t be broke.

He zips his sleeping bag closed with his right hand, then leans back against the boarded storefront, underneath a gray awning that sheltered him from most of last night’s rain.  Waiting for Old Man Russell to move spots paid off, and Nelson is determined to keep this space for himself, even if it means a few more bloody fights.    

He squints his eyes, blurring his vision and softening the surrounding scene of cement, garbage cans and rusty cars. When Nelson squints, he sees only the centre of the picture: maple trees bursting autumn within the confines of the tiny city park across the street.

Crimson. Pink. Gold. Brightest red. The same colours that painted the horizons of his childhood. His family’s home, nothing more than a rundown shack if he’s honest, had the best view on the reserve. Aunt Gladys said they never had to decorate inside because nature provided decoration enough for anyone. Nelson closes his eyes, carrying his aunt’s words and the fantastic colour, a phantom of comfort, into his sleep.

In his dreams, his family are happy. They sit at picnic tables, waiting for the day’s salmon catch to cook on an open fire. Children play and run around. The adults are telling stories and laughing. But Nelson strains to hear their laughter. It’s blocked out by a loud crackling – the sound of brittle leaves as a strong breeze passes through the tree branches.

And now Nelson can smell smoke, can actually taste smoke from the air. Light wafts have grown into thick billows, raging out of the untamed fire. Salty resin catches in his lungs and takes hold of him.

Bystanders are too distracted by the flames to see a two dollar coin roll into the street.

Change

Marquee neon spotlights the startled expression of someone who once pretended to love me. My hand reaches deep into my empty coat pocket and it’s then I realize: I’ve already tossed our past away.

A 33 word Trifecta-like writing challenge for myself and for writer Tom MacInnes. Please pop over to Tom’s new blog to read his response.