RECLAIMED by Madeleine Roux-Review, Excerpt & Giveaway
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ABOUT THE BOOK: Release Date August 17, 2021
In this claustrophobic science fiction thriller, a woman begins to doubt her own sanity and reality itself when she undergoes a dangerous experiment.
The Ganymede compound is a fresh start. At least that’s what Senna tells herself when she arrives to take part in a cutting-edge scientific treatment, where participants have traumatic memories erased.
And Senna has reasons for wanting to escape her past.
But almost as soon as the treatment begins, Senna finds more than just her traumatic memories disappearing. She hardly recognizes her new life or herself. Even though the symptoms for the process might justify the cure, Senna knows that something isn’t right. As her symptoms worsen, Senna will need to band together with the other participants to unravel the mystery of her present, and save her future.
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REVIEW:RECLAIMED by Madeleine Roux is a futuristic, sci-fi, dystopian story line focusing on three humans who have suffered extraordinary personal tragedies, and have been offered a once in a lifetime chance to erase the specific memories from their pasts.
Told from several third person perspectives including Senna, Zurri and Han, RECLAIMED is set in the middle of the twenty-third century, when space travel, AI servitors, VIT, and VR are the norm. Wealthy entrepreneur and self-proclaimed genius Paxton Dunn has set up an experimental lab, at the Ganymede compound, on one of the moons of Jupiter, and has contacted our three leading characters for his inaugural test subjects and specific memory erasure. All three subjects have suffered through horrific experiences, and Paxton has targeted each for who they are, and what they know but the ‘treatment’ sessions begin to reveal that something is not quite right with Paxton and his crew, and the subjects begin to lose a little more of themselves with each progressive session.
Senna is a young woman who has spent most of her life controlled by a charismatic leader, a leader who dominated and restricted every aspect of her life but like many of his type, the need for power and control outweighed the safety of his followers, and in the end Senna is the only one to survive. Loneliness and innocence ooze through her broken façade.
Zurri is a super model with an ego to match but a stalker demanded Zurri’s attention. A televised promotion for Zurri’s new line of cosmetics ensured the world watched as her stalker appealed his final challenge. No amount of facial cream will heal the pain or memories of what happened and why.
Han is a fourteen year old, computer IT wizard, but he too, lost everything to a man man whose need to control destroyed many lives. On the fast track to genius, Han may become Paxton’s protégé, but a protégé that is about to take down a man he once considered his hero.
Madeleine Roux pulls the reader into a story of what ifs and hows? What if someone or something could erase the bad memories leaving only the good ones intact? …but therein lies the problem when memories are erased, what is left behind is a gaping ‘black hole’ of nothing, and in its’ place is darkness and pain. As our three ‘test subjects’ begin to breakdown both physically and emotionally, each will come to realize that their lives are no longer under their control.
RECLAIMED is a thought-provoking and aptly cautionary tale of desperation and loneliness, power and obsession, arrogance and egomania, suffering and pain. The premise is twisted and haunting, complex yet equally easy to read.
Copy supplied by Netgalley
Reviewed by Sandy
Excerpt kindly provided by the publisher
RECLAIMED by Madeleine Roux
Ace Trade Paperback Original | On sale August 17, 2021
Excerpt
More than anything else Senna remembered the bitter silence. At some point during the night, everyone around her on the ship stopped breathing. The soft, human sounds of sleep had mixed with the reverberation of space outside the passenger craft, a lullaby of organic white noise that helped her drift to sleep, but once it was gone, the absence was far louder. Unmistakable.
It was like how she imagined the dead of winter, still and adrift, though Senna had never experienced a true winter herself. Her entire life had been lived in outer space and, more than that, in almost total confinement.
She had taken a pill and gone to sleep surrounded by life, then woke among the dead. Senna had rolled over, tossing restlessly, and felt her hand brush something cold and almost rubbery on the sleeping mat next to hers. Startled by the sensation, she jerked awake, and under the reddish glow of the emergency lights above, she found herself staring down into the open, glazed eyes of her best friend, Mina. The blood trickling from between Mina’s full lips was as crimson as the emergency lights blinking overhead.
Senna gasped, and it was the only sound in the entire ship.
Oh my God. They’re all dead.
“You can’t leave me,” she whispered to Mina. The fear made her tremble; the shock made her grab Mina by the shoulders and shake. Her bones were thin and birdlike, and her head swiveled back and forth as Senna tried to rouse her. Nothing.
A door opened across the room, and Senna whirled to face it, torn between the sudden knowledge that she was alone and now the worse fear that she wasn’t, that whoever was responsible for all this death was still alive and with her. That she was next.
“Senna,” she heard him say. “I didn’t know you were awake.”
Why was she the only one left alive? And why wasn’t he surprised by it? She didn’t know what to say. What could she say?
They’re all dead, every last one of them, except for you and me.
“Hello? Lady? Earth to blondie.”
She blinked, hard, gazing around not at the interior of a doomed passenger craft, but at an impatient barista glaring down into her face. Grabbing her chest, Senna nodded and waved at him, but the memory took its time fading away. One year ago. It still felt like she was living inside that moment, crushed on all sides by it.
I didn’t know you were awake, Preece had said. To her, it still felt like she was deep, deep asleep. Dragged under.
“S-Sorry,” Senna stammered. She hadn’t been outside Marin’s apartment in weeks. The neon haze of Tokyo Bliss Station hurt her eyes. A halo lingered around the barista’s head, the self-driving coffee cart lit with an amber glow. “How much is it?”
“Ten for the drink,” the barista replied. He was tall and thin, tattooed from the collar of his shirt and apron to his mouth. A series of scrollwork arrows pointed to the ring glinting in his lip. “Three for the cup.”
Senna frowned up at him. “Three? Really?”
Rolling his eyes, he shrugged and handed her the mottled brown cup, frothy yellow liquid steaming inside. “Fine, no charge for the cup. Bring something reusable next time, okay? Anything else I can get you?”
Senna stared down into the drink, the familiar color and smell threatening to bring another wave of painful nostalgia.
Anything else, she mused. A new brain? A tranquilizer?
“No,” Senna told the young man. “No, I’m . . . That’s all.”
“Just remember the cup thing,” he muttered, tapping the scanner on the coffee cart counter, waiting for Senna to hold up her wrist and flash the VIT monitor that ought to be there. But Senna still didn’t have one. The barista noticed, the specter of his shaved-off brows looming low over his eyes.
“She will.” Marin to the rescue. “She’ll remember for next time. And I’ll take a sweet drip.”
The barista sighed. “Line jumpers pay double for their cups.”
“Fine.”
Marin, petite and dressed in pristine white patent leather, with a glossy black curtain of hair, leaned across Senna and swiped her own wrist monitor across the scanner. The machine dinged cheerfully, transaction complete. She glared at the thing toiling away behind the barista. AI Servitors, working husks of robots skinned with a kind of human latex mask over a carbon skeleton, were ubiquitous laborers across the stations, on the colonies and on science vessels.
“You know SecDiv is going to roll out lifelike versions of those things soon? With human fucking faces and skin and everything? I guess the regular peacekeeping bots aren’t intimidating enough or something,” said Marin in a disgusted undertone. She shuddered. “So creepy.”
“Will we be able to tell the difference?” Senna asked, more amazed than afraid.
“I’ve seen this dystopian vid, and the answer is no.”
As soon as the coffee arrived, Marin tugged Senna away from the cart quickly, back toward the carbon-black folding chairs and tables clustered on the promenade. The glitzier upper levels of the station rotated above them, rings that rose to impossible heights-financial districts and fashion houses, arcade blocks, cosmetic surgery clinics, augmented-reality parlors and universities . . . Down on their level, close to the bottom of the station and Hydroponica, nothing could be done to control the heat. The food and water operations needed the cooling systems, not the impoverished districts hovering just above them.
So Senna drank her haldi ka doodh in the swelter, accustomed to it. The hot turmeric milk almost scorched her mouth as she took a sip.
“I don’t know how you can drink that stuff,” Marin murmured.
“It’s good,” said Senna, shrugging.
“Blegh. Anyway, sorry I’m late.”
Senna sat across from her at one of the empty tables. The lunch rush crowd swarmed around them in the plaza, drawn to the coffee cart for their midday blast of caffeine. Behind them, six lanes of self-driving cars and a passenger tram funneled workers back toward the main bank of elevators at the center of the district, elevators that ran the full height of the station.
“Don’t worry about it,” Senna said, waving off her apology while swatting at the vapor rising from her milk. She liked the slightly grassy taste of the drink. It made her wonder if it was the kind of earthy smell one experienced during a real Earth summer.
“I do worry,” Marin replied, drinking her coffee. Her nose wrinkled. “Shit. They forgot my Zucros.”
“I can wait.”
“No, I shouldn’t leave you alone again.”
Senna ran her thumb lightly around the softening edge of her disposable cup. She felt stupid and small and unmanageable when Marin said things like that. But Senna also knew she had earned being babied.
New York Times Bestselling Author of the ASYLUM series, Allison Hewitt Is Trapped, Sadie Walker Is Stranded and the upcoming House of Furies series.
MADELEINE ROUX received her BA in Creative Writing and Acting from Beloit College in 2008. In the spring of 2009, Madeleine completed an Honors Term at Beloit College, proposing, writing and presenting a full-length historical fiction novel. Shortly after, she began the experimental fiction blog Allison Hewitt Is Trapped. Allison Hewitt Is Trapped quickly spread throughout the blogosphere, bringing a unique serial fiction experience to readers.
Born in Minnesota, she now lives and works in Seattle, Washington.
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