Skip to main content

Chimera by Stephanie Walls Blog Tour

Title: chimera
Author: Stephie Walls
Genre: Adult, Dark Romance
Published: May 11, 2016
I couldn’t be anything other than a romantic at heart — it’s my nature, it’s who I am. But this isn’t a typical story of traditional love. It isn’t a fairy tale. No happily ever after neatly tied up with a shiny bow. It’s a memoir of the reality left behind in the wake of grief — the desolation, the resurrection, and final culmination life offers to the fallen.

This is a journey through love…the love of self, love of a friend, and sometimes love is ugly, messy —destructive.

My name is Bastian Thames…and this is my story.


CHIMERA - Copyright © Stephie Walls 2016

Chapter One
When Sylvie died, it left a hole in my being that seemed prodigious. I adorn my face with the plastic appearance people anticipate from me, but internally, I weep. Continuing through the monotonous motion of my daily life, I increasingly find myself lost in what my friends—well, those who remain—refer to as a fictional world: novels, authors, artists, musicians, and the illusion of relationships on social media. The more time I spend on Facebook, the more entrenched I become in the fiction that exists on the screen. I believe these “friends” are truly concerned for me; they’re what relationships are in reality. Sadly, these seem to be the only things keeping me hanging on, but the thread threatens to break daily, frayed from top to bottom. The tightly woven fabric that was once my life has deteriorated beyond recognition.
That’s the crux of my juxtaposition. My life had value, it had meaning. It was everything I had ever imagined it could be. But without Sylvie, black clouds roll through my mind, hindering my ability to think, eliminating productivity, and stifling my creativity. My art is as dead as I am. But online…online I can be anything I want to be, whatever version of myself I decide to show to the world. I don’t have to be the pathetic artist who lost his muse. I don’t have to be the sweet, sensitive man Sylvie loved. I don’t know whom I want to reinvent myself as, but the idea of being whatever still exists in my soul doesn’t appeal to me. My craft has become recreating my persona, anything to escape the pain, the desolation, and the solitude. Surely there’s art in recreating an identity.
Most days, I find it difficult to even get out of bed. The colder it gets outside, the shorter the days are, the deeper I sink—sometimes only escaping the protection of my covers to take a piss or get something to eat or drink. Although frequently, I let those things go in favor of marinating in my misery. My laptop calls to me from my nightstand when the loneliness becomes too much to bear, the darkness too black to see through.
That recognizable blue-and-white screen brings me comfort, the newsfeed seemingly a link to real conversation, touching base with the people I’ve known for years—but it always introduces the possibility of newcomers. The “friend recommendation” is the online equivalent to a friend introducing you to someone new; at least it is in my mind. I always check out the recommendations. They’re often other painters or singers that might have known Sylvie—or people I barely recognize from high school or college. But every once in a while, some totally random person surfaces with no tie to my past.
Those are the connections I find most interesting, most appealing.
They also seem to be the safest, having no knowledge of the person I once was, or how all that remains of me is a fragmented shell. I have made several “friends” this way, people I would say I’m close to—even though we’ve never met and likely never will. Herein lies my fictional world, the one my real friends don’t understand and believe to be emotionally damaging to me. I’m not processing my grief…blah, blah, blah. If I hear that shit one more time, I may scream.
As soon as I log in, the familiar recommendations bombard me as if the universe is playing some cruel joke. There she is, my Sylvie…only her name is Sera Martin. She’s a perfect duplicate with the same striking green eyes, long chestnut-colored hair, high cheekbones, and luscious, pouty lips.
I realize I haven’t inhaled or exhaled.
I gasp and hold my breath until my lungs burn. I haven’t seen her in years. The day she died, I came home and stripped our house of any reminder—every picture, every video, every stitch of clothing, anything she loved. It all had to leave. I couldn’t bear the weight of what the world took from me. I imagined if I discarded everything, she wouldn’t haunt me, and maybe, somehow, I would manage to learn to live again if reminders of her didn’t surround me.
Yet, her loss possesses me daily.
This girl. This Sera. Could this be Mother Nature returning my Sylvie to me in a strange twist of fate? The notion there’s a doppelganger roaming the world has always been a thought I believe in. It’s possible after years of suffering, dying inside, barely hanging on, that my savior has come. Without hesitation, I click “add friend.”
Sera responds to my request with a private message.
Sera: Wow! Are you really Bastian Thames?
Me: Yes. Have we met before?
Sera: Once, but I doubt you’d remember. It was at a gallery down on the West End where your work was being featured a couple years ago. Is this the real Bastian? Not some lurker claiming to be the famous artist?
Me: Far cry from famous, but yes, one and the same. Are you certain we met that night? I remember the opening and can assure you I would have remembered you.
Sera: Yes, you were with your wife. She’s quite lovely. I’m not sure which was more beautiful, her or the nudes you had in the collection. That showing was the talk of the art community for months around here.
Me: That was the last opening I did. Seems like a lifetime ago.
Sera: Are you not painting anymore? I hate to admit that I lost track of your work when I went off to college but for years, I was a huge fan.
Me: Life happened. I haven’t painted in some time.
Sera: I can’t imagine you quit painting. Surely you just quit putting them out for the public.
Me: No. I haven’t so much as held a brush in five years.
Sera: That’s a shame. Hey look, Bastian, I have to run out but I accepted your request. I hope maybe we can talk some later. Maybe you’ll let me pick your brain about a project I’m working on?
Me: Certainly. I hope to hear from you soon.
Sera: Bye
Me: Later
My mind races with possibilities. I immediately go to her profile to see what information I can garner on her before our next conversation—assuming one comes. Jesus, she’s twenty-five, went to the Rhode Island School of Design, graduated with her Masters in Fine Arts, and holy hell, she’s a sculptor. If these pictures are of her work, then she has phenomenal talent. Scouring her profile provides only surface-level information. There’s almost nothing personal. The pictures all seem to be with other artists or at galleries or in a studio. Moving to her wall, I find tons of posts by other local artists, memes about artwork, jokes…the proverbial Facebook bullshit.
I almost quit scrolling when I see a post that grabs my attention. There’s a picture of two beautiful women, scantily clad, one bent over, the other yielding a paddle, and the words, “Someone’s been a bad girl.” Jesus Christ. There are one hundred forty-seven comments and two hundred fifty-three likes on the thread posted by a Maria Martin.
I click on Maria’s name first, assuming it will be a sister or cousin, not expecting it to be her mother. Holy shit, whose mother posts this kind of profanity on their daughter’s Facebook wall? Making my way back to the thread, I find myself enthralled by the dialogue.
It’s cheeky and playful but talk about insight. This one picture, one conversation, tells me scads about who she is personally, not about her work, but seemingly what she enjoys—intimately. Reading her responses to the comments ignites a fire in an area of my anatomy I thought had died with Sylvie. As my cock starts to twitch, that old, familiar heat seeps through my crotch.
I stop myself, realizing I’m staring at dialogue—about a woman who could be my dead wife’s twin—between people I don’t know. It’s morbid, really. Backing out of the comments and Sera’s profile, then I set the computer aside. I don’t close the laptop for fear of missing a message from her. Lying back, I stare at the all-too-familiar ceiling. I know every blemish on the drywall with aching familiarity. There have been hours of loneliness and isolation. The depth of pain is so fathomless, I often wonder how I made it to the next day without feeling the cold steel in my hand, without pulling the trigger.
I've lived all over the country but have made Greenville, South Carolina my home for the last 20 of my 37 years. I have a serious addiction to anything Coach and would live on Starbucks if I could get away with it. If you follow me on Facebook you'll also find that I'm slightly enamored with Charlie Hunnam. I'm an avid reader (literary whore to be more precise) averaging around 300 novels a year. I have a penchant for great love stories, sensual poetry and am a romantic at heart.

I currently work full-time in the Greenville area and fill my "extra" time with writing contemporary romance novels with a hint of erotica. I couldn't do it without the support of my family and friends who push me to keep going when I don't have the confidence or patience.


chimerachimera by Stephie Walls
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Every now and then a book comes my way that totally blows my mind, rips my heart out ,depletes my Kleenex supply . I become an emotional mess and man alive I just loose the plot.
Chimera did more than that ! The words are etched in my heart and the characters will forever be apart of me.
Thank you to Stephie Walls for creating a beautiful artistically written book it's pure art and I feel extremely privilege to have read it .
Now that I've poured my heart out let me tell you a little about this masterpiece.
Bastian , a very talented and much loved artist goes off the map after the loss of his wife and it seems like he may actually die of a broken heart . Thanks to Nate ,his brother from another for being there and supporting him.
The bond he shares with Nate is a gift and many have mistaken their relationship but let me tell you both are hot blooded males that enjoy the opposite sex.
Sara .....there's so much to this being but thinking of her shatters my heart and soul into a million pieces ! Bastian and Sara is an artistic Romeo and Juliette. Stephie Walls has a new fan.

Review by Heidi

View all my reviews



Hosted By: 
 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Against the Boards by Samantha Lind Reveal

Title: Against the Boards Series: Indianapolis Eagles #5 Author: Samantha Lind Genre: Contemporary Sports Romance Cover Design: Jersey Girl Design Photo: Sara Eirew Release Date: February 21, 2019 Blurb Reese Blackwood I’m called America’s sweetheart. They say I have the voice of an angel. I almost gave all that up, thanks to a traumatic experience at the start of my career. Instead of letting it define me, I chose to rise above. I showed everyone what a woman on a mission could accomplish, and now I’m living my dream. After one chance meeting, my entire world changes. Austin is every woman’s fantasy, and he wants me. While the attraction is there for me as well, I don’t need any distractions right now. Austin Jones Focused. Driven. I’m the man I am today because I never let the idea of settling down disrupt being the best I can during my hockey career. But then Reese floats into my life and everything changes, and no...

Debt by K.C. Wells Pre-Release Blitz

Title: Debt Author: K.C. Wells Genre: M/M Romance Release Date: May 17, 2016 PreOrder Hosted by Enticing Journey Book Promotions Two months after Mitch Jenkins had the rug pulled out from under him when his two-year relationship came to an abrupt end, he is still hurting. A colleague’s attempt to cheer him up brings Mitch to a secret “club.” Mitch isn’t remotely interested in the twinks parading like peacocks, until he spies the young man at the back of the room, nose firmly in a book and oblivious to his surroundings. Now Mitch is interested. Nikko Kurokawa wants to pay his debt and get the hell out of the Black Lounge—where he is forced not only to have sex, but sometimes suffer abuse to please clients. Earning his freedom isn’t proving easy, especially when he starts attracting interest. Life becomes that little bit easier to bear when he meets Mitch, who is nothing like the other men who frequent the club. And when Mitch crawls under his skin and into his he...

Between the Lines by Renee Harless Blitz

Title: Between the Lines A Best Friend's Brother Romance Author: Renee Harless Genre: Contemporary Romance Release Date: May 23, 2018 Blurb An unspoken rule. A friendship that will be tested. Quinn He was my crush at thirteen and ten years later that feeling never ceased.  I thought that time and distance would change us  but I never expected the feelings to grow.  Now things are complicated.  His sister is my best friend.  She’s also his twin.  And I’m stuck in the middle. Trevor She was always my fantasy come to life and  I knew even at sixteen that girls like her were rare.  Soft, feminine, sweet to her core -  she was my complete opposite.  I knew how to keep her away when we were young,  but I’m finding it hard to keep her out of reach  when everyone is pushing us together.  My sister can never know the things  I plan to do to her best frien...