It's My Novel.co.uk

The characters:

• The main character (can be a man or a woman)
• The romantic partner (if any)
• The surgeon’s assistant (can be a man or a woman) with whom the main character will have a friendly or a more romantic relationship
• The tramp (can be a man or a woman), close to the surgeon’s assistant but who has not seen him/her for a long time
• The limousine driver (must be a man)
• Another person close to the main character: he/she is a friend or a relative (can be a man or a woman)
• The tax inspector (must be a man)
• A character who is intensely disliked by the main character (can be a man or a woman)

Interactivity:

• Detailed psychological portrait of the main character
• Choice of the type of relationship between the main character and the surgeon’s assistant, either friendly or more romantic
• The surgeon’s fate: death, prison or anything else of an unpleasant nature
• Letter to the main character
• Writing of the main character’s horoscope

Customized book covers (included in the price) with fold-back flaps:

• Picture of the hero
• Picture of the co-author(s)
• Brief biography of the co-author(s)
• Dedication or brief biography of the hero
• Subheading

The size:

• 5" x 8"
• 160 pages

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ISBN: 2-913-595-00-6
Copyright registration: October 2007

In the mail sometimes there is a letter that makes you raise your eyebrows. An odd-sized envelope, a mysterious postmark, an unknown sender...

The mailman must have made a mistake. No, the address is correct: 64 Street Avenue, Calmtown. Either you jump on it, like a wild beast pouncing on a scrap of meat, or you wait until you find the letter opener.

Blaise uses his index finger to unseal the envelope, standing, one foot on the doorstep of his house, the other on the doormat. He lets out a heavy sigh. Last night he didn’t sleep well, so his blue eyes first skim over the letter sleepily. Then it hits him like a bullet: it’s signed by Dr. Loïc Chaveleau. A notification for a checkup. The formalities are all there:

...Dear Mr. Smith, our medical team would like to meet with you urgently to discuss a subject of the utmost importance...

Two years ago, Blaise had undergone an operation when his skull was fractured after a stupid collision with a trucker that had mixed up left and right. The operation had gone well. No complications. No migraines bothering him. His memories were crystal clear. To make a long story short, he had come out of it like a champion, thanks, of course, to the outstanding surgeon, Dr. Chaveleau. So why this urgent appointment two years later?

Blaise walks in brisk strides, his eyes riveted to his shoes. The anguish is there, churning in his gut. Doubt. Fear of the worst. It had to happen to him! He prefers pedestrian energy to taking the taxi. The oxygen irrigates his worried brain. The people he crosses on the sidewalk look like vague silhouettes. Nobody can be of the least bit of help to him. He is all alone with this letter in his pocket. Fear energizes his legs.

“Things were not going so poorly, until today,” he says to himself, shivering.

He turns right on Left Street, a calm, charming avenue with imposing noble and well-preserved stone façades. This kind of atmosphere, far from reassuring him, makes his heart beat even faster, like a drum roll. Blaise would like to turn around, but something prevents him from doing that. He wants to know. Even if this is the big blow that is going to change the course of his life for good. It’s already happened to someone he knows. A serene guy, happy with his job, still in love with his wife, creative with his kids, and bam! From one day to the next, a cerebral hemorrhage. Order the coffin! Enough to scare you witless walking down Left Street. We never really know what is going on inside a skull. Unknown, artful mechanics, whose laws cannot be found in any textbook. The human mystery. Well, here it is.

Doctor Chaveleau, sporting his eternally snowy smile, welcomes him into his den with an iron fist. The entrance looks so much like a cathedral that it could be easily mistaken for one: stained glass windows and a solemn atmosphere. Everything here, from the pearly doorbell to the Oriental rug, evokes a refined taste. Blaise remembers that in the basement, there is a private clinic, hidden away.

- Welcome, Sir. Would you be so kind as to follow me, please?

In the surgeon’s office, a woman is lounging in an armchair. She looks him straight in the eyes and welcomes him batting her eyelashes. Haughty, sumptuous, terrifyingly beautiful for Blaise, who only knows this kind of women from the ones he has seen on magazine covers.

- Véronika, my assistant, says Chaveleau as he sits down behind his desk.

Blaise doesn’t know if he should bow down, extend his right hand or hug her. He simply murmurs:

- Pleased to meet you...

- Please have a seat my dear friend. Coffee, mineral water, whisky?

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