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ABOUT
THE BOOK
Like
a craftsman weaving the finest of Persian carpets, Etienne de Mendes propels
the reader on an unparalleled adventure of Gothic horror and romance. Isidore
de Chagny, world-renowned Noble prizewinning geneticist, has sent humankind
on a disastrous evolutionary leap. The financially taxed governments of the
world injected their common populace with his timed-death serum. People start
dying unpredictably at younger and younger ages. Onto this intense stage walk
Isidore’s creations: Christine, Erik, and Torossian. Three kindred spirits
brought through time by the scientific process of replication. Each grapples
with forming an identity and a number of profound human needs. Rich political
insights and cultural observations grace the daily reality of the trio. Our
heroine endures imprisonment at the hands of militants desperate for a cure.
Unaware of her peril, Erik and Torossian hunt for a vast stolen treasure and
in the process manage to unearth an ominous ancient creature.
Colorful,
intricately detailed, and mesmerizing, this fourth novel in a series about
the life of the Phantom of the Opera was penned solely to entertain. The curious
mature adult who enjoys a perplexity along with explicit passion will not
be disappointed. Erik recuperates his relationship with Christine, gives her
an astounding gift, and unites his modern psyche with his constant internal
companion – the infamous Opera Ghost who stalked an 1800's Paris Theater.
“See
the fire of all that I desire, the blaze lights up the night…”
EXCERPT
FROM THE BOOK
(from
chapter 20)
Nearing the bottom of the tower,
Torossian gave a directive. “Wait here on the steps. I strongly recommend
you avoid the central black puddle where the oil steeped in.” He moved
around the perimeter of the inner wall lighting a series of mounted cressets
still filled with illuminating oil. Above each metal basket a tree-shaped
area of heavy creosote, the accumulation of years long past, told a tale of
greedy use.
They stood side-by-side, enjoying the mutual revelation of an almost spiritual
moment.
“Khusrowshah’s treasure,” Erik took in the display with
the greatest satisfaction. “He navigated these passages and employed
a structure already present. And you, my shrewd brother, discovered the chamber.”
Torossian swelled with pride. “Among my many talents, burrowing is one
of my specialties.”
Erik’s eyes scanned a marvelous and morbid scene. “This is so
much more than we anticipated.” The simplicity of the Dokhma bordered
on brilliance. The curved walkway, spiraling upward into blackness added a
chilling touch to the silent eerie setting. It was as if some furtive spaceship
landed, and Nature condescendingly built a labyrinth of caverns to conceal
the craft from an unsuspecting populace. The internal base of the Dokhma was
an immense room. All around, in every direction, piles of skulls and bones
were stacked haphazardly. Interspersed among the bones lay dozens and dozens
of treasure chests. Dusty gold statues of animals and warriors, gold chairs
inlaid with medallions of jade, copper, and silver, and stacks upon stacks
of wooden boxes filled with yet unidentified wealth.
Stepping down to ground level, Erik spun in a slow circle. “Look what
they did to the eye sockets of the skulls.” Strange green phosphorescent
balls, the size of figs, were affixed inside the craniums. The hodgepodge
of skulls, ribcages, long bones, hands and feet all compressed together was
a bizarre and unnerving scene to equal any found in the catacombs beneath
Rome or Paris.
“A genuine horror, yes? Probably done to spook those making deliveries.”
Erik started counting boxes and chests, “Do you think they’re
all full?”
“Full to the brim! Packed! Let’s select a few and open them up!”
Etienne welcomes your
questions about "The Disciples of the Night".
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