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    See Me: See Me Rise, #1
    See Me: See Me Rise, #1
    See Me: See Me Rise, #1
    Ebook89 pages1 hourSee Me Rise

    See Me: See Me Rise, #1

    By Natalie-Nicole Bates

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    About this ebook

    Carly Anders is hearing voices in her head. For years, Carly has held up huge protective walls to keep herself and her secrets safe. Now, physically and mentally exhausted, Carly needs protection and rest.

    She accepts the invitation to visit an internet friend who needs help appraising a collection of antique photographs.  The situation is not ideal, but Carly hopes a male presence in her life will deter the determined suitor who haunts her thoughts and dreams.

    Daniel Tremont is not what Carly is expecting.

    The former funeral director has a secret of his own. Not only is he eternal like Carly, but he is also her creation from all those years before—her abomination she thought she killed.

    Daniel has been searching for Carly for years. He knows she is the piece of his life that he has been missing for so long. Now that he has found her, he has no intentions of letting her go.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPaperlate Press
    Release dateOct 3, 2023
    ISBN9798223603009
    See Me: See Me Rise, #1
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    Author

    Natalie-Nicole Bates

    Natalie-Nicole Bates is a book reviewer and author. Her passions in life include books and hockey along with Victorian and Edwardian era photography and antique poison bottles. Natalie contributes her uncharacteristic love of hockey to being born in Russia. She currently resides in the UK where she is working on her next book and adding to her collection of 19th century post-mortem photos.    

    Read more from Natalie Nicole Bates

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      Book preview

      See Me - Natalie-Nicole Bates

      Natalie-Nicole Bates

      See Me

      See Me Rise

      First published by Perfectly Poisoned Press 2022

      Copyright © 2022 by Natalie-Nicole Bates

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

      This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

      Natalie-Nicole Bates asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

      Natalie-Nicole Bates has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

      Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.

      Second edition

      This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

      Find out more at reedsy.com

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      Contents

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      About the Author

      Also by Natalie-Nicole Bates

      Chapter 1

      Chapter Separator

      Spring, 1896

      Today wasn’t a typical day.

      As Charlotte Hopkins exited the general store clutching a bag of sweets, the thick, acrid smell of smoke masked the typically fresh, sweet air of springtime. A crowd had formed in the town center. Women and men alike coughed or covered their noses and mouths with sleeves or handkerchiefs.

      She soon found out the reason.

      A sudden blaze at the lumber mill had erupted, a fierce fireball that had consumed everything and everyone in its path.

      Charlotte needed to get home. Her father would need her.

      Her father owned the only funeral parlor in town, and Charlotte loved to assist him with the whole theatre that was a funeral. She had no fear of death; after all, her whole life still lay before her. She was determined to live her life to the fullest each and every day.

      Her mother preferred that she married an Undertaker, not become one.

      Her mother firmly believed that a woman’s place in the funeral business was behind the scenes, not causing them. A woman’s pride should radiate from assisting her husband to be a success by seeing to his needs, cooking his meals, and attending to the home, and eventually, the children. Women were to be seen and not heard from. Instead, they were to serve tea and biscuits to the bereaved.

      But it was 1896, no longer the Dark Ages. Charlotte wanted to be seen and heard. Not smile politely while she served tea.

      Charlotte knew she was destined for greater things in life.

      She always knew she was special, and it wasn’t just because her family said so. It was more a feeling deep down inside her.

      Something secretive and miraculous, but still unexplainable.

      It stemmed from an incident that had happened on her fourth birthday when she somehow fell into a pond behind the family home. Now thirteen years later, her parents denied the accident ever occurred, and her older sister, Laura, was forbidden to ever speak of it.

      There was gossip regarding the flame-haired woman who was somehow involved. It was all nothing more than a malicious rumor, her mother insisted.

      But Charlotte knew the truth.

      She had cheated death, and in doing so, this had made her stronger, somehow braver.

      She rushed to the funeral parlor, but all was quiet.

      Father? she called out.

      But her father was nowhere to be found.

      She hurried to his preparation room, but he was not there. It seemed the town folk had exaggerated a bit, there was only one body. One unfortunate soul who had perished in a most heinous way.

      Charlotte was accustomed to all the putrid scents associated with death. But today, she was assailed by a new smell—burnt flesh.

      She bit back the vomit that collected at the base of her throat and approached the embalming table where the newly deceased corpse lay.

      The corpse was almost unrecognizable with red and blackened skin which had burned, blistered, and peeled away exposing the charred bone in some places. Heat still rose from the body. His eyes were open and lifeless, their color destroyed by smoke and flame. Even in this state, Charlotte could tell he was just a boy, not much older than her own seventeen years.

      She didn’t know him. This she was certain.

      A lot of transient men wandered in and out of the lumber mill. Some stayed a few months, others just a few days before moving on. If no family claimed this boy, her father’s generosity would provide him with a pine box and an unmarked grave.

      A wave of sadness enveloped her.

      No one should die until they were very old, she decided. This boy had barely begun his life; it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right. If she had been spared death, why shouldn’t he be as well?

      Charlotte closed her eyes and held her two now quivering hands above his lifeless body. You shall live again. Rise, she whispered from a force that came from an unknown place deep inside herself. Her body vibrated and heat rushed through her chest and exited

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