Auntie M believes in bringing new voices to your attention from time to time, so please welcome author
Gabriel Rheaume. Gabriel will describe his history and what led to his unusual premise for his book book, as well as sharing an excerpt.
Before I tell you a little bit about myself and my novel, I’d like to announce that my novel The Shores We Walk is on sale at Amazon
Kindle for 99 cents for the month of September!

The idea to write The Shores We Walk came from a statement I made to my
girlfriend, who is now deceased. I told her that her family was so
dysfunctional that someone should write a book about them. As time
passed, I became more interested in the idea and of pursuing it

When she took her life at the age of 19, I made a vow that
this book would transpire. I took a creative writing
class in college and it started there.

But her death led me to alcoholism and drug addiction. As my addiction
became worse, my writing style transformed into surreal and delusional
accounts of memories and life itself. As time progressed, my best
friend died of a heroin overdose in my apartment while I was sleeping,
and another one of my close friends passed away due to unexplained

All of these things continued to come out in my writing, and I
decided to write the book as a tribute to all of them, and to write it
in a way that felt like being on drugs, combined with bouts of psychosis
and visits from beyond the grave.

The book grew while I was in and out of rehab, but it wasn’t until I
got my own addictions under control that I was able to wrap up the
story, obtain an editor and self-publish The Shores We Walk.

Although it is a tragedy, there is a ray of hope. I recommend the book
to those struggling with addiction or who have a family member who is an
addict, and even to those just curious about the lifestyle of a junkie.

It is a fast-paced read, brutally honest and painful, but also
written in lyrical prose.

What is the book about?

When all of the people close to Francis end up dying, a lot of
questions are left in the air while he falls into a deep psychosis.
The story is written through a veil of drugs and visits from beyond
the grave. It is a love story and a tragedy; a struggle with faith and
some brief moments of hope. Through the darkness there is also much

Francis, based on a postmodern St. Francis of
Assisi, narrates this story of four people as they slowly self-destruct
and battle drug addiction, homelessness and poverty. When I
attended Wayne State University, I saw such tragic things every day.

But I was inspired by the fact that even though these people had nothing,
they never lost sight of what really mattered to them. I realized
that life contains more joy than sorrow and wished more people would
recognise that simple fact. When asked about my experiences in
downtown Detroit,  I simply say, “When you see a homeless man with a
larger smile than a rich man, you have to question what’s actually
important in your life” (Sandusky Tribune).


“If the weathered barns along the road did not reveal their age, it
would seem like going back in time. He had not visited her cottage
since the snow had fallen. It is off one of Michigan’s Great Lakes
with a beach that has a coast with no near end. There is no view
beyond the lake and sky. Sometimes freight ships sit near the horizon,
slowly drifting in time with the clouds. At times the sky and the lake
become indistinguishable. There is not a better easel for the sunset
than the framed sky above this vast oasis. To sit afloat in the center
of any large mass of water has an unfathomable magnificence. It is
like analyzing the one infinite living second that is recognizable as
life. The horizon can be divided by two shades, that of the water, and
of the air. There is no end to this one-second as there is seemingly
no end to the polar vision of the water and the sky.
Each season is equally enchanting. Lake Huron in winter is deep
blue with waves frozen to the white beach. The barren rolling,
snow-covered hills are like a desert. The wind forms drifts that are
small cliffs.
The spring is a time of new life. The green is so vibrant that
plants glow in the daylight. Blossoms decorate trees like white and
pink ribbons. The air is as fresh as rich, black, soil.
In the summer, the purple chicory grows in fields of grass. Queen
Anne’s Lace makes groups of wild plants flowers look like bouquets.
The breeze from the lake is cool and comforting.
The colors of the leaves in autumn are almost unnatural. A
rainbow falls from the sky and the land becomes a palette of trees.” 




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