Title: Missing
Author: Chelsi Robichaud
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: 04/29/2025
Heat Level: 1 – No Sex
Pairing: No Romance
Length: 50100
Genre: Contemporary, Genre/lit, contemporary, family-drama, bisexual, lesbian, dissociative personality, therapist, musician, cult leader
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Description
Kate wakes up in her kitchen, having no idea where she had been for five hours. The only clue she has is a note she left for herself on her desk, stating that she was going to see someone named Naomi.
With some investigation, she discovers Naomi is a therapist she has been seeing for months to discuss her blackouts and dissociation. However, she hasn’t been attending the sessions as Kate, but under a different name: Veronica.
Once she realizes she is experiencing dissociation, Kate takes a deep dive into her life, trying to uncover her alters and make peace with the people she shares a headspace with.
As she unlocks secrets hidden even from herself, she has the support of her best friend, Brielle, and her therapist, but not everyone is out to help her.
Missing
Chelsi Robichaud © 2025
All Rights Reserved
When I finally did hear from Veronica, it wasn’t as I expected.
I was working on a new song. I needed a pen to write down the notes. I couldn’t find one. Nor could I find a blank sheet of paper—each one I pulled up from the catastrophe on my desk was filled with ink already. It had only been a few days, but I had managed to mess it up again.
I opened the journal I shared with Veronica. I flipped to a blank page. I scribbled out notes on the lined paper, humming a tune as I went. I could imagine which instruments would join in the melody. It would begin with piano, and as the music swelled, violins and cellos would be added to the mix. It was the beginning of what would likely become a movie score.
This was when I felt her at the edge of my consciousness. Veronica. I froze and blinked. She wasn’t really in the apartment, but it seemed like she was. My brain was giving me two different images—one of a raven-haired woman with dark-red lipstick and a pantsuit sitting on my couch, and another where I was entirely alone.
“Maybe if you cleaned up in here a bit more, finding a pen wouldn’t have been so difficult,” Veronica quipped from where she sat on the couch.
A man appeared beside her. He was in his early thirties, with a beard and curly hair. He wore a gray T-shirt and cargo pants. I recognized him immediately as my childhood imaginary friend, Jeremy. Jer for short.
“If you’re so worried about how clean the place is, why don’t you hire her a maid?” he asked Veronica.
“A maid?” Veronica repeated. “Where would we get the money for that?”
“Maybe we should be quiet,” Jer said. “She’s trying to work.”
“Work.” Veronica sniffed. “When’s the last time we made actual money from our music?”
“Hey,” Jer said in warning. “It’s not like she’s making nothing. She still gets royalties from the songs she sold.”
“Mhm. And that was, what? Two years ago?” Veronica shook her head. “Not good.”
“Always the critic, Veronica.”
“I came here to talk.” She looked at me. “So, are we going to talk?”
“How am I seeing you right now?” I asked.
Veronica sneered. “You mean you don’t remember?”
“Go easy,” Jer warned. He looked at me with kind eyes. “Naomi explained that we have psychosis. Which explains why you can ‘see’ us instead of just ‘hearing’ us in your head.”
I sat down on the couch, staying away from Veronica even though I knew she wasn’t actually there. I wasn’t comfortable being too close to her, especially when she seemed ready to verbally lash out at me.
“What did you want to talk about?” I asked her hesitantly.
“I want more time on the outside,” she said. “I didn’t get enough recently.”
“I don’t get any time on the outside, but you don’t hear me complaining,” Jer said.
“I don’t understand,” I said. “How can I trust you?”
“You can trust us, because we’re a part of you,” Jer said. “You recognize me, right?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I’ve known you my entire life. It’s her who doesn’t exactly fit.”
“We haven’t possessed you or invaded your mind,” Veronica said. “We’ve always been here. Pieces of you. When you black out, one of us takes over. I’ve been attending therapy sessions for us and speaking for both of you. You were too anxious to go yourself.”
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Chelsi Robichaud writes and resides in Halifax, Nova Scotia. She publishes sapphic romance and fantasy novels. She has also self-published two comics. You can find Chelsi on Twitter
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