His writing has won Honorable Mention in the action/adventure category of the Golden Triangle Unpublished Writer's Contest, first place in the novel category of the Bay Area Writers League Manuscript Competition, and was a finalist in the science fiction/fantasy/horror category of the Houston Writer's Conference manuscript contest.
His proudest achievement, though, is in having fooled his wife into marrying him more than thirty years ago and in helping her to raise three wonderful children. He is now a grandfather five times over.
And his gardening? Well, let's just say he still has a bit to learn in that area.
What kind of books do you write?
I do my best to evoke emotion of one sort or another, whether it be humor or sorrow. I want to force them to question… to think. And I do it by writing stories in which people are thrown into extra-ordinary situations that force them to push beyond their limits.
Can you describe your writing why?
This one will sound strange, but much of my “why” is because of my martial arts background. I often saw people who had been pushed out of their comfortable lives by the harsh realities of a cruel world around them. I like to empower my readers… make them consider the idea that we are all capable of doing so much more than we think. Success at any endeavor is often as much a matter of determination as it is skill.
Share with us your favourite passage from the book you enjoyed writing the most
Together, Richard and Henderson escorted Amber down the hallway to Kevin’s room. As they passed, each detective came to attention, dropping into a resting stance once she went past. It was a tradition hundreds of years old, and the show of respect touched her… that her coworkers—no, her family—had taken it upon themselves to support her.
But all too soon, she came to the door, and her legs froze. That’s not Kevin. Kevin’s already dead. It’s not Kevin.
As if they knew what she was going through, Richard and Henderson waited patiently. She didn’t want to go in there. Once inside, the med-techs would perform their final duty to her partner, and he would be gone.
No! That’s not Kevin.
Once inside, there was no more pretending that there was a possibility that Kevin could somehow wake up. Once inside, she would have to watch her partner die. And she didn’t know if she could do that.
He’s not there, Amber! That’s not Kevin. Kevin died four days ago. This is just making it official. Finally, she took another deep breath and nodded at her escorts. Henderson stepped back into the hallway, but Richard hesitated.
“It’s okay, Richard. I can do this.”
He gently squeezed her arm and then left as well, and it was just her, Chief Fischer, a med-tech, and Kevin in the room.
Even then, she had trouble approaching the bed, but Fischer came and took her hand.
“Come on, Detective. He needs us one last time.”
Unable to speak, she nodded, sniffed, and allowed Fischer to lead her to Kevin’s side.
The tech busied himself with disconnecting various tubes and wires, while Amber tried her best to ignore him. She knew each action brought the moment she dreaded closer, and she simply didn’t want to accept it.
The tech eventually addressed Chief Fischer. “Are you ready?”
“Payne?” Fischer asked. He wasn’t going to let her avoid it. “Do you need any more time?”
Of course I do. I need the rest of his life, damn it! She looked up with barely controlled fury, and her retort died on her lips as she saw his face. Somehow, she’d never thought about how it would affect him. He was the Chief. Chief with a capital C! He seldom showed much emotion. It was rare enough that she’d been shocked to find him smiling at her when she’d returned to work after her stay in the hospital. That she might ever see him with such raw sorrow in his eyes was beyond belief.
But she saw the anguish that she felt reflected in his haggard face, and the first tear as it rolled down his cheek. He wiped it self-consciously and swallowed before he found something that required his attention on the wall at the head of Kevin’s bed. But before he turned, she had seen it. His pain matched her own, and that realization damped the fire of her anger, replacing it with compassion. She shook her head and realized with the motion that her nose was running. That’s not Kevin. That’s not Kevin.
She envied Fischer his tears. She missed being able to cry. Sure, she felt the tightening in her heart and the tingling in her sinus cavities. And she even broke down at times with an exhausted dry sobbing in her throat that she simply couldn’t escape. But without tears, she never felt cleansed. It was as if the tears leaving her eyes were a necessary catharsis, easing a spiritual pain. Without tears, that pain, that pressure of emotion, remained trapped within her, and she feared her soul would one day simply wither and die, leaving her as machine-like as her cybernetic eyes.
She sniffed again, then turned to the tech. “Let’s do it.”
Kevin wasn’t there. But Chief Fischer was. Richard was. Henderson and Jenkins, and Walker, and Stacey, and all the others who had shown up… they were there. And they all hurt, not only at the loss of one of their own, but also at the sight of how it pained her. So she wouldn’t let them see it. She would be strong.
For them.
And for Kevin.
She squeezed Fischer’s hand. “That’s not Kevin, Chief.”
He looked at her quizzically.
“Kevin’s already gone. You told me that the other night. It just took me a while to accept it.” She looked down at the body on the bed. “This is just a shell.” Then she looked up at Chief Fischer and repeated it more strongly. “That’s not Kevin.”
Fischer swallowed and nodded. Then he turned to the tech, and though his voice cracked, he gave the man the word. “Do it.”
Tell us about your latest project
The above scene is from Streets of Payne, the first book of the cyberpunk Amber Payne series. I just published Book #4 (Payne of the Past) in July of this year. From the back cover:
In February of 2236, rookie detective Amber Payne was ambushed by organ jackers who took her eyes and left her for dead. Cybernetics allowed her to see again, but she had nightmares for years… nightmares in which she relived that horror… saw the faces of the men bent over her as they applied gruesome devices that ripped her eyes from her skull without benefit of anesthesia.
For fourteen years Amber has seen those men in her sleep. One man with piercing blue eyes, the other with a jagged scar running from his left temple to a ragged split in his nostril.
And now, all this time later, she stumbles onto a case where the victim is a young woman who has a similar experience. When the woman describes her attackers, Amber knows she has to take the case. For one of her assailants has a long scar on the left side of his face, from his temple down to his nose.
What is your favourite cake?
My wife makes an absolutely amazing Lemon Cheesecake. It’s the perfect blend of tart lemon, sweet pudding, and of course, cream cheese. I look forward to it every year for the holidays. Luckily, it’s something she only makes for the holidays, or I would be too large to fit through the front door! LOL
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a slice of cake with Melinda Kucsera.
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Claire Buss is a multi-genre author and poet, completely addicted to cake. Find out more about her books on her website clairebuss.co.uk. Join the discussion in her Facebook group Buss's Book Stop. Never miss out on future posts by following me.
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