When the newest member of Eric Peterkin’s London club is found stabbed to death, Eric throws himself into a quest for the truth: missing nurses, morphine addiction, shell shock. The Great War is over, but the memories remain...
I’m posting this in the hopes of getting critiques for the project page and excerpts of my novel, Clockwork Charlie. Hard critiques, soft critiques, anything that you think might be helpful will be much appreciated.
It’s 7:48 in the morning, I haven’t even had my coffee yet, and I’m watching as they’re hauling my body out of the river. I’m an Upload, a clone. They’ve mapped my genes, replicated my DNA, made a copy, and now I need to solve my own murder.
