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I read several blogs today regarding Amazon putting in a new policy intended to penalize huge sites that specialize in promoting only free Amazon books. Before you panic, know that the site must have 20,000+ downloads per month (that’s a lot) and must have more than 80% of them in the free book category to lose their Amazon Associate commissions for that month, so it may only affect a few of the large sites for now. It appears Amazon has gotten a little indigestion from the massive flood of free kindle books it must provide and is attempting to slow what must be runaway numbers.
As one of the indie authors who has benefited from Amazon’s KDP select program that provides five free days per ninety day period, I hope Amazon doesn’t throw the baby out with the bath water. Opening the door to independent authors and providing a means for them to get some much-needed exposure is certainly part of the reason Amazon has stomped their way into the book market and successfully established their Kindle reading devices despite mega-competition from the iPad, and at a time when traditional bookstores are closing their doors and paper book numbers are in steady decline. And the numerous sites that have grown up in Amazon’s wake do drive customers straight onto Amazon.
I also hope that Amazon will not succumb to pressure they must surely be feeling from the Big Six publishers to use their new-found weight in the publishing industry to crush out the indie authors, something the traditional publishers would be pleased to do forever. Yes, indie authors may not be as profitable as the major name authors, and yes, an unregulated free-for-all on free books probably doesn’t make financial sense, but Amazon was not built by bean counters. It was built by an entrepreneurial spirit named Jeff Bezos whose outside-the-box thinking included, among other things, the indie author. I am confident he will not forget.
Here in 2012 we have reached a tipping point. Drastic times require drastic measures. So the saying goes. If it isn’t the omnipresent threat of terrorism, it’s the omnipresent threat of global warming.
There is the religious faction dedicated to bringing Armageddon down upon us. (What’s the matter, can’t you read the signs?) The great scientific minds see an ironically similar version of Armageddon on the horizon, called singularity, where we all burn in a glowing blur of rapid technological advancement racing out of control. How many versions of Windows can there be?
Or, worse than any of those, we suffer from the omnipresence of Democrats. (and Republicans—don’t read anything political into that) It’s either too much government or not enough government, but always the other guy’s fault. Hasn’t that tune gotten old? There just might be a reason that the US Congress has an approval rating that falls on the scale somewhere between Hitler and Satan.
It’s time for a Frank Capra.
There comes a time in every great nation when the tipping point is reached. Where we either go sailing down into the abyss with one last insane whee, or we dig down through the bad news and blame and dust off some of the truth that makes life worth fighting for. There is a reason we all watch It’s a Wonderful Life every year. (or should) There is a reason we cheer for the good guys, the decent guys to win. Deep down every one of us knows that we are good guys.
There will be those who claim a happy ending is trite, that good guys finish last, that you have to fight fire with fire and the punishment must fit the crime. But aren’t those really the rants of those already on the toboggan ride down?
My appeal is to the many who are kind of heart, the forgiving and helpful many who sincerely wish themselves and others to survive and thrive. I know you are out there.
It’s time for a Frank Capra.
We need someone to remind us not of the depraved or despicable few, but of the determined and decent many who provide the backbone of any great civilization. Someone who will lift our spirits above the fray, not grind them into the earth.
It’s time for a Frank Capra.
New Release
The Color of Greed
Raja Williams Series, Book 1
Prologue
A twenty-five foot cruiser floated idly next to the dock at the Alamitos Bay Yacht Club, just north of Seal Beach on the Southern California coast. A recent storm in the Pacific had churned up enough sea to send choppy waves now and again into the bay. As the boat rocked up on a wave, the name Maid Marion flashed momentarily into view in the moonlight. The sound of two voices interspersed with giggles echoed from below deck.
A tan young man and a cute girl in shorts and a halter top were making out on the curved bed in the boat’s lower cabin. As he heated up, the young man made his move to climb on top of the girl. Realizing where things were headed, the girl straightened her arms between them and managed to break his grip momentarily.
“Darryl, are you sure no one will see us out here? What if someone comes along? I don’t feel safe on this boat.”
“Are you kidding? It’s just like a house on the water. We are completely alone, Sandy. Trust me.” Those two words were uttered countless times by a boy to a girl to invoke favor from the gods of love. Darryl’s hopes that they would work yet again soared when Sandy smiled, untied her top and dropped it onto the floor. The two resumed their fevered grappling until a loud thud echoed in the cabin followed by an unpleasant scraping sound. Darryl ignored the interruption twice and pressed on, but when it happened a third time, Sandy’s eyes bugged wide and her body stiffened.
Darryl knew then he would have to deal with whatever was making the horrible sound.
“What was that?” said Sandy, right on cue, reaching for her top.
“Wait here,” ordered Darryl, impatiently. He was halfway to the stairs. “I’ll be right back.” He thought it was probably a tourist who hadn’t secured his boat well enough. A couple of quick knots and he’d be back for business. Darryl climbed up to the deck and peered around. The thump repeated behind him. He turned and saw a forty-foot sports yacht scraping against the seaward side of the dock. It was an Azimut 40, high-end luxury and nicer than most, and there didn’t appear to be anyone on board. The edge of the hull screeched loudly as the boat pushed itself outward. Darryl hopped onto the dock and ran toward the boat that now drifted ten feet away.
“Hello? Anyone on board?” he shouted, listening in between for any sign of life. Nothing. When the boat drifted back toward the dock again, he leaped onto the rear deck. “Hello,” he said, once more. There was no sign of anyone. As he searched in the pale moonlight for a line to tie the boat, something bumped into the back of his ankle. He jumped and let out a girlish yelp. It was only an orange mooring buoy that had rolled across the deck. Darryl laughed at himself, shook his head and continued searching until he found the dock line. He tied the back end of the boat to a cleat on the dock, and then went below to look around.
Meanwhile Sandy managed to get her top back on and came up on deck just in time to see Darryl ducking into the interior of the derelict yacht. She pulled on her sneakers and hopped onto the dock and from there to the rear deck of the other boat. She noticed the yacht’s name Clarice painted in cursive on the back panel. Several gruesome scenes from the movie The Silence of the Lambs flashed into her head. Sandy shivered involuntarily and decided not to follow Darryl below deck. Feeling safer in the open air, she climbed up to the overhead flybridge. There was a sundeck behind a control panel full of dials. She noticed a rumpled piece of canvas along the railing. When she pulled one edge to move it out of her way, the canvas shifted and a man’s body rolled out and flopped on its back in the center of the deck. The face was bloody and had no eyes. Sandy screamed.
Amazon Reviews
The Ultimate Detective Story
This is the first detective story I’ve read by Jack Thompson. It reminds me of the old time radio shows where the private detective comes to the aid of a woman; in this case, a recent widow. The author doesn’t waste any words and neither does a good detective put his feet up on his desk. It’s time for action, and that is what the novel offers. Detective Raja Williams speeds to the west coast at the call of new client, Clarice Hope. Her husband, Randy, had been found dead on the topside of his yacht that had drifted into a harbor in the dark of night. The police have no evidence of foul play, but Clarice is sure the he’s been murdered. Vinnie is Raja’s assistant and researcher who keeps him informed and supplied with techie equipment as if he were Agent 007. Right from the beginning of Raja’s investigation, his pride and joy classic vehicle, 1966 Alpha Romeo Duetta, has the brake lines cut and careens off a cliff right after Raja safely bails out. Raja and Vinnie, with the support of the LAPD, delve deep into more deaths and political deception. An aggressive story for the reader to embrace. The story is ‘catnip’ for the readers who love detective stories. Detective Williams and Author Jack Thompson have achieved success.
I loved it!
…I don’t want to give too much away but wow. I just loved Raja and his partner Vinny they are a perfect pair they complement each other well. This book had me from chapter one and I couldn’t put it do down. It’s fast paced, full of action, and dripping with mystery. The characters are well developed you have a great idea who they are and they are portrayed well. This book is packed full of twists and turns that keep you guessing through the whole book. I really enjoyed the concept of which Raja is he’s not your typical detective but reminds me of Dick Tracy helping out the damsel in distress. A enjoyable read that has me wanting more. I can’t wait to read book two.
Exciting, Suspenseful, Deep Character, Thrilling
…I totally enjoyed reading this excellent mystery-suspense-thriller. Yes, I label it a thriller, because the plot twists and complications, as well as the intriguing characters, kept my attention on the story without lagging even for a moment. I’ve always enjoyed mysteries, but this novel has something special-a certain joie de vivre, perhaps; definitely a twisty plot, and characters that are well fleshed-out and mostly likeable (even the villains are comprehensible, and make no mistake, there is a plurality of villains). The writing is smooth and excellent, and I truly hope the author will make this a series with multiple entries.
Hard to Put Down
Gripping … Chock full of suspense and intrigue. The riveting conclusion, with it’s shocking revelations, will leave you spellbound. I can’t wait for the next book!
Buy The Color of Greed now for $4.99 at:
(Prime members can get it FREE)
Shara glanced nervously over her shoulder and ducked into a used clothing shop on the main boulevard. There were very few of those left since the Godmachine had limited all citizen apparel to three specific outfits. Shara always felt somehow comforted seeing all the old blouses and dresses with their rainbow of colors, and feeling their unique textures, even though they were only sold as historic collectibles and were illegal to wear in public.
Today she didn’t notice the clothes at all. Today she felt annoyed and confined by the low ceiling of the shop, and smelled an unpleasant, musty odor she had never realized was there. Today was different. It was to be her last.
She stared out through the big front picture window as Transbus 7 glided silently past the corner where she was supposed to die. She looked at her timeband. “There, it’s done,” she thought, feeling an unexpectedly exhilarating sense of freedom. She cherished the feeling, if only for a brief moment, wishing it could last forever. She knew she could not hope to evade the PETs for long. The Godmachine collected a continuous stream of data from the Data Analysis Fusion Towers that covered Plixon. Her violation of her Daily Duties would be downloaded to local PETs within minutes. In what seemed to Shara like only seconds, she noticed two uniformed men approaching the store from across the boulevard. Each wore the familiar black leather jumpsuit and black visored helmet with a yellow triangle containing a single open eye on the front.
Feeling an uncommon surge of courage and defiance, Shara stepped deliberately through the door of the store and toward the approaching PETs. When the first officer pulled out a small weapon Shara instinctively stopped walking. It wouldn’t have made any difference if she had tried to run. When he fired a short blast of green light on her, she felt like her feet were frozen to the sidewalk.
The second uniformed man said, “Shara Macor, you stand accused of a capital violation of your Daily Duties for this, the fifth day of Tarill.” Shara could only listen. “Specifically, Duty #4—self-deletion by walking in front of Transbus 7 at precisely 4.25 this morning. This Duty shall be carried out now by PET officer 43325 at 4.29 on the fifth day of Tarill, year 5442 AF.”
With no further comment he trained a cylindrical device at Shara and pressed a small button on its side. A soft hum preceded a wave of transparent energy that enveloped Shara. The energy came alive, turned a translucent blue and swirled quickly about her for several seconds before becoming opaque and shrinking slowly inward on itself, getting smaller and smaller until it finally disappeared. Shara was gone….
Review from Twisted SciFi:
The planet Mars is one of the most pervasive images in Science Fiction. Why is Mars still prevalent in Science Fiction today? I suspect it’s because it’s the most accessible and most likely place for Earthlings to inhabit besides the moon. Recent projects like Mars One and the landing of NASA’s most sophisticated Martian rover only serve to reinforce this. In Jack Thompson’s Godmachine, not only are you treated to a Martian adventure, but you actually get two stories in one. Click here to read complete review
Reviews from Amazon:
Heart-pounding action! Great read for fans of Science Fiction If you’ve been following the story of the recent landing of NASA’s Mars Curiosity Rover, or if you’re a fan of NASA’s Apollo missions, they you’ll almost certainly enjoy reading Godmachine. As a bonus for all readers, along with the tale of the astronauts’ journey to Mars, Thompson cleverly weaves in the tale of the Godmachine. Both stories are heart-pounding and action packed. These stories are skillfully crafted in such a way that Thompson is able to make us take an introspective look at our own human strengths and weaknesses. I highly recommend this book for fans of Science Fiction and Space Travel, or for anyone who’s just looking for a quality book that’s fun to read.
Great Nail Biter This was a great “computer takes over the world” story that I really enjoyed. Although I was tempted to skip ahead to discover how things turned out, I’m glad I didn’t because I would have missed the ride. Congratulations for a great book.
Buy GODMACHINE for $4.99 at:
Copyright © 2011 Jack Thompson
principle (noun):
1. A basic truth, law or assumption
2. A rule or standard, especially of good behavior
(from L. principium–origin, source)
Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.
Each time the lights flashed into the New York City subway car, a lone red-haired man appeared in the last car. He sat very still and upright, like a man getting his picture taken with a slow speed portrait camera. A Kansas City Royals baseball cap was next to him on the seat, along with a brown leather shoulder bag. Two cars ahead, a man in a cheap business suit was making his way toward the rear of the car. He looked like a thousand other middle aged businessmen riding to or from work on the A train in Manhattan. But, he was not; he was a top-level government agent named Carver Townsend. The strobe effect of the passing lights showed him jerking awkwardly through the car like an old-fashioned flip book. In reality, he was a hungry panther methodically stalking its unsuspecting prey.
Carver Townsend was not a particularly brave man. The true idea of bravery has a certain requisite of overcoming one’s fear in the face of danger. Carver Townsend felt no fear, nor much of anything, for that matter. He was a psychopathic personality by any standard of evaluation, but that made him exactly the type of man coveted by ruthless rulers and governments down through the ages to carry out certain necessary dark deeds. He was a specialist, a highly organized and skilled assassin trained to neutralize his assignment–to get his man, as it were. The death he brought was never personal, and Carver felt neither guilt nor regret. Being entirely egocentric coupled with having the full support of the federal government behind him sometimes made him feel invincible.
Carver had recently completed a solo undercover assignment infiltrating a brutal Miami drug ring, had previously led a frontal assault on a terrorist training camp in Libya, and once even had to disarm a nasty bio-weapon set to go off in a Middle Eastern embassy. Over the course of his career, he had watched strong men weep like babies and beg for mercy. On occasion he had seen highly trained and seasoned fellow agents suddenly lose their nerve and run screaming in terror from a confrontation. Those experiences had only confirmed what he already knew. He was the toughest SOB there was. Carver Townsend prided himself on keeping a cool head under fire and having balls made of steel.
Nevertheless, something was nagging at him the closer he got to his target.
His pre-mission briefing had been peppered with the standard warnings: armed and dangerous, proceed with caution, terminate with extreme prejudice. This had all become routine for Carver, for he was never assigned anything but high-risk operations. He expected to be chasing the most vicious and deadliest targets. Men who could and would kill their enemies, or anyone else for that matter, in a variety of nasty ways. His job was simply to be more vicious and even deadlier.
He spent almost a week studying every bit of data the government had on the current guy he was tracking. He had seen the reports, and even some video, of agents killed or incapacitated while pursuing this man. What he never saw was any evidence that this vicious killer carried any sort of weapon–ever. That bothered him a lot. Carver made it a firm policy to bring the biggest weapon to any anticipated fight. Then there was the ease with which Carver had located his target. The man certainly didn’t seem to be trying to avoid discovery. He hadn’t even dyed the carrot-red hair that made him stand out in any crowd. He might as well have painted a big red circle on his back. But then again nothing said his job HAD to be difficult. He wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Agent Carver entered the third to last car at the 116th Street station and was slowly working his way to the rear. In the dark between stations he slid into the second to last car. From there he could see his target sitting alone in the final car, about halfway down, next to the right side exit door. “When opportunity knocks, remember to open the door,” played in Carver’s head, an idea his father had drummed in, often accompanied with his fists.
Carver began to feel uncharacteristically nervous as he prepared to enter the last car. Sweat dripped under his arms and his throat tightened as he slid open the last door. The target didn’t move a muscle when Carver stepped onto the rubberized floor grid just inside the car. It was relatively dark now, as they were still in the tunnel, but he could clearly see his target silhouetted in the light from the station landing they were rapidly approaching. “Clear line of sight–time to earn my paycheck. Not much time–maybe a few seconds, maybe less,” he thought. “This is it.” He pulled out his lucky SIG P229 handgun with suppressor, and moved in for the kill.
The train hissed as it slowed for the Penn Station stop and thudded softly as the engineer locked the brakes. When the doors opened, a tall red-haired man with a blue baseball cap and a bag over his shoulder stepped out of the last car and casually headed for the stairs.
The train took on more passengers, and then slowly chugged on toward its next destination, business as usual in midtown, midday Manhattan. No one even noticed when the man who remained in the last car sat down, calmly unscrewed the suppressor from his gun, and placed the end of the barrel under his chin. No one saw the tears streaming down his face when he slowly pulled the trigger. It was the invincible agent, Carver Townsend, about to meet his Maker….
Buy The Rand Principle for $4.99 at:
Copyright © 2011 Jack Thompson