The Augmented Man Repub

Yes, I know.

The book, much like protagonist Nicholas Trailer himself, is back.

Fascinating publishing history this near universally praised book has had (and something I’ll write about later. The best I can offer is “It’s been a wonderfully educational experience I wish I never needed.” I was going to write “…I never had.” and know such things happen with a purpose).

In any case, resurrected again with a new cover and front- and back-matter, The Augmented Man is on sale until 15 March 2023 for $0.99 Kindle, $10.99 Paperback.

From 16 March 2023 forward it’s $2.99 Kindle, $18.99 Paperback.

At least I know neither the book nor Nick Trailer himself are going away this time.

It’s not the publishing path I would have chosen, and at least now I know it’s with a publisher who’ll do what they say they’ll do when they say they’ll do it.

Can’t beat that.

The Alibi (A John Chance Mystery) – Chapter 8

Previous entries in this novel:

Enjoy!


The Alibi – Chapter 8

 
Sean Davitty practiced his free dives at least twice a week wherever he was and daily when on break. He spent a year with the Bajau learning their techniques. He didn’t have their genetic disposition, but he came close – his best dive was ten minutes at two-hundred feet. His teammates shook their heads at him. “You’ve already got all the certifications you need, Sean. You working at being a whale?”

Davitty’s brogue came out clean and crisp. “No, I’ll settle for seal.”

Part of the fun was surfacing where no one expected it. The looks on people’s faces made him laugh.

Today nobody laughed.

Today he parked at the south end of the closed USS Boston memorial, pulled a backpack out of the passenger’s seat, lifted a camera out that, and walked around taking pictures. He hopped the gate and took more pictures until he stood at the water side of memorial. Reaching into his pack agian, he pulled out a blanket, sandwich, thermos, an old and dogeared paperback of The Best of H.P. Lovecraft: Bloodcurdling Tales of Horror and the Macabre, and sat down in the shadow of one of the big guns.

He chewed and read. Once or twice his sipped from his thermos.

He finished the story undistured. No one came by; no sightseers, no lovers, no WWII enthusiasts.

Sure no one watched, Davitty donned his diving suit sans tank, fitted his flippers, donned his mask, and plunged into the water and swam to the bottom. From there the test was to Langone Park. It would be empty today and provided a convenient landmark.

Waterfront construction dominated the waterfront a few hundred feet west. Apartments and condos, none occupied. There might be some people walking dogs, cycling, sightseeing. He’d be careful. Surface just enough to recharge his lungs then down and back.

Coming up along the ocean wall he found a tunnel. Okay, maybe not a tunnel, but definitely something large enough to swim through. Algae lined its walls and gave off phosphorescent light.

Interesting.

Surface.

Charge.

Check his watch. If he hadn’t surfaced by half his limit, turn around, get back.


Greetings! I’m your friendly, neighborhood Threshold Guardian. This is a protected post. Protected posts in the My Work, Marketing, and StoryCrafting categories require a subscription (starting at 1$US/month) to access. Protected posts outside those categories require a General (free) membership.
Members and Subscribers can LogIn. Non members can join. Non-protected posts (there are several) are available to everyone.
Want to learn more about why I use a subscription model? Read More ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes Enjoy!

The Alibi (A John Chance Mystery) – Chapter 7

Previous entries in this novel:

Enjoy!


The Alibi – Chapter 7

 
Leddy sat across from Penny Lane in the Boston Public Library’s Johnson Building. Leddy always thought she and Penny’d look like a tower salt&pepper shakers if Penny could get on her shoulders. Leddy, stocky and dark like her father, Penny thin and fair like her father if he didn’t get to his Bermuda home for a weekend.

Out the window she watched firetrucks and ambulance race towards the waterfront until people crowded around her and blocked the view. She switched her tablet from screen to dVids, a gift from Penny’s father, and guided her drone with a specialized pen she designed inside MIT’s Media Lab as part of the Future Entrepreneurs Club. She couldn’t stop actionable ideas from coming to her. Her advisors wondered if she were adopted. Grad students and professors attempted to copy her designs. Penny’s father, Briggs Lane, Senior Partner at Lane, Cuomo, and Greenberg, told Penny to keep an eye on her and bring any things she came up with to him.

Briggs had Penny and Leddy to lunch at least once a week and probed Leddy about anything Penny brought to his attention, but gently, conversationally, so she wouldn’t catch on.

Leddy thought him a playable fool. He could get her hands on tech even her Media Lab buds knew nothing about and Leddy always let him think something profitable would come of it.

But gently, conversationally, so he wouldn’t catch on.

She tapped Penny’s tablet. “People will see what’s on your screen.”

Penny laughed. “I’m going inside. I’ll be able to sell this, create a bidding war. We’re the first on the scene.”

“You take too many chances.”

Penny kept her tablet active. “You don’t take enough. What are you doing?”

“Watching vehicular and foot traffic.”

“Do you listen to yourself? You sound like your father.”

“You sound like yours.”

“Yeah? How ’bout you give those dVids back. Briggs won’t mind.”

“I’ve never heard you call your father father, dad, pop. He’s always Briggs to you.”

“That’s the way he likes it. Good business practice. He’s grooming me to take over for him when he retires.”

Leddy smiled and nodded. You don’t have the horsepower to takeover for a snail.

Penny nodded with her friend. “See? Even you know it.”

Leddy smiled and nodded again. I’m agreeing with myself, you wanker.


Greetings! I’m your friendly, neighborhood Threshold Guardian. This is a protected post. Protected posts in the My Work, Marketing, and StoryCrafting categories require a subscription (starting at 1$US/month) to access. Protected posts outside those categories require a General (free) membership.
Members and Subscribers can LogIn. Non members can join. Non-protected posts (there are several) are available to everyone.
Want to learn more about why I use a subscription model? Read More ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes Enjoy!

The Alibi (A John Chance Mystery) – Chapter 6

Previous entries in this novel:

Enjoy!


The Alibi – Chapter 6

 
Cranston stopped at the doors to the precinct’s central office when he saw John Rhinehold kneeling beside his desk. Too-thin, too-young, and with a dark black beard and thick brown hair tied in a ponytail half way down his back, Rhinehold was the latest edition to the BPD’s undercover cybersecurity squad. He reached for the screen on Cranston’s desk and pulled his hand back quickly as if shocked.

Cranston frowned and focused on his mobile. He TXTed back Leddy “K U?”

The precinct’s wall mounted blues flashed ON-ON-off ON-ON-off. Chairs screeched across the hardwood floor.

Leddy TXTed “C THIS?” and Cranston’s attention returned to his phone. Leddy sent her video through. “SIMON GOT IT ALL!”

SIMON. Situational Intelligent MONitor. Leddy’s MIT-Harvard sponsored drone. She had it working? He needed to pay more attention during dinners.

Its cameras moved through hazy clouds flecked with ash. He wasn’t sure what he was seeing until the drone cleared the clouds. It flew just above street level and revealed the clouds as billowing smoke.

“WRU”

“BPL Johnson w Pen.”

Cranston’s jaw tightened briefly. He didn’t like to interfere in Leddy’s friendships. Getting into that special high school MIT-Harvard thing really made her blossom. She hadn’t been able to focus on anything since her mother passed five years back. Cranston knew his daughter was special, used his connections to get her time with top grief counselors and therapists, but it wasn’t until Penny Lane and through her father, Briggs, that Leddy got into the program.

She didn’t make the cut but Briggs put forward the money, sponsored her, convinced MIT-Harvard to make room.

Cranston met the man once. Briggs arranged the meeting at his top floor, corner office in one of Boston’s largest law firms. They smiled at each other and sized each other up, one a professional skeptic the other a professional SOB in a three piece, bespoked suit.

When Cranston asked questions, Briggs Lane explained Leddy’s inquisitive mind was too good not to be nurtured, given a chance to thrive.

Cranston shook his hand, thanked him, and told Leddy to make sure she let him know whenever she saw Lane, whenever she was about to see Lane, and everything that happened when Briggs and her had their biweekly lunch meetings.

Penny Lane shadowed her father’s footsteps; suck whatever you can out of people then cast them aside and always do it with a winning smile.

Cranston wondered if Penny, like her father, would acquire a deep knowledge of the law and maintain deep enough pockets to enure her from anybody saying otherwise.

But that was just Cranston’s opinion. Leddy didn’t see it that way and Cranston wanted her to learn the world which meant two things; protecting her from it as little as possible and being there when she learned what the real world was like.


Greetings! I’m your friendly, neighborhood Threshold Guardian. This is a protected post. Protected posts in the My Work, Marketing, and StoryCrafting categories require a subscription (starting at 1$US/month) to access. Protected posts outside those categories require a General (free) membership.
Members and Subscribers can LogIn. Non members can join. Non-protected posts (there are several) are available to everyone.
Want to learn more about why I use a subscription model? Read More ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes Enjoy!