Renee Miller's Blog, page 22
July 29, 2013
You can’t understand crazy, unless you are crazy, in which case, I will write about you.
I research weird shit. Can you believe I get paid to Google serial killers? I do! I love my job.
5 Strange Motives of History's Most Notorious Killers | Top5.com.
Bacon Wasters: You all should be ashamed.
I might have mentioned once or a hundred times that I freelance for websites to pay the bills. Now, usually I write exciting articles on parenting, gardening and fixing shit around the house. But since I started writing for Top5, I’ve gotten some more interesting assignments. BACON assignments. This is my article about how idiots waste good bacon.
Top 5 Most Bizarre Uses of Bacon | Top5.com.
It’s really a crying shame. I shed more than a few tears writing this one. I mean, soap? Seriously? And a lamp? Once you shellac that shit, you can’t eat it. *sniff* The moral of this article: Don’t waste bacon.
July 23, 2013
The Muse: Writer’s Friend or Mythological Creature?
Muses: The Muses in Greek mythology, poetry and literature, are the goddesses of the inspiration, supposedly responsible for all the great accomplishments in literature, science and the arts. They were the source of knowledge that is contained in stories, art, and lyrics.
We writers invoke the Muses when we write, and this typically occurs at the beginning of a story. We cry for inspiration sometimes, but other times we simply open our hearts and our minds and invite them to come whenever they feel like doing so. Sadly, desperate pleas have the same result. The Muse only arrives when she is good and ready.
I find myself at a stand-still with my fiction. I am not blocked. There are ideas coming out every orifice in my body (it’s not pretty), but I just can’t sit down and WRITE.
So I set out in search of the mythological Muse. My goal is to first confirm such a creature exists, and if it does, to capture it and take it home with me, where I will force it to dance to my literary song. Oh, that was poetic, right?
So anyway, as I began my journey, I first had to encounter THE OUTSIDE.
Is this the Muse? I wondered. Its great fangs and dark, fathomless stare said no, but I had to be certain. “Outside,” I said. “Are you my muse?” It laughed maniacally before scooping me up in its cold, bug-filled claws. “I can help you find your Muse, if you have a bit of time.” So we went, me and THE OUTSIDE, and journeyed far and wide. But THE OUTSIDE did not find my Muse. It wanted to terrorize me with people and conversation and stores and errands, and I think it wanted to devour my soul. So I told THE OUTSIDE that I had shit to do, and it found another hapless writer to torture.
I left THE OUTSIDE and soon encountered THE TELEVISION, also known as THE NETFLIX and THE MOVIES.
THE TELEVISION is a master of disguise. You have only to look into its great, shiny face and stories just happen. Characters appear fully-formed. The color, the sound, the action! Such versatility must involve creativity, so I asked THE TELEVISION if it was my Muse. “Of course,” it grinned. “Just give me your time and your mind and inspiration is yours.”
THE TELEVISION looked kind and fun, so I went with it into a thick, dense fog. Hours later I emerged, tired, hungry and slightly less intelligent than when I went in. “TELEVISION,” I said. “You’ve taken all the time I had today, but you haven’t inspired me to write a single word.” It winked, “I haven’t? Well, I guess you’ll be wanting these brain cells back. Sorry, no returns.”
So I left THE TELEVISION and walked home.
Inside my house I found THE TWITTER. Oh, the TWITTER is cute at first. “Come fly through cyberspace with me!” It called. But once I joined it, I found its other prisoners—erm, tweeps, and THE TWITTER showed its true form.
I tried to look away, but I could not. THE TWITTER is full of powerful magic. Once it has you in its claws, it pecks and pecks at your subconscious so that walking away is an exercise in sheer willpower. “Twitter,” I said. You are not my muse. You have lied to me.” It tossed a hashtag at me and laughed. “#Getoverit” said the hashtag. I wished for a gun or a knife, or a really big shoe with which to squash THE TWITTER. Sadly, I had none of these things. But THE TWITTER suddenly smiled and took my hand. “Here,” it said. “Perhaps my bastard brother, THE FACEBOOK might be your muse. He definitely knows its name. THE FACEBOOK knows everyone.” As THE TWITTER passed me off to a cool looking fellow without any facial features, I thought I saw cash change hands. But I may have been mistaken.
THE FACEBOOK sauntered away and I followed, because what else did I have to do? I had to find my Muse. “Facebook,” I said. “I really need to find my Muse. Are you it?” Facebook continued walking, cool cat that it was, and shook its head. “No, man, but I’m sure it’s here somewhere. Care to try some candy? How about a bubble? Have you ever wanted to run your own farm? It’s all possible here.”
So I got lost in candy and farms, and hours later I emerged. “Listen fucker,” I said. “I don’t have time for your shit.” THE FACEBOOK tsked and snapped its fingers. I found myself alone in my garage/office. THE FACEBOOK suspended my account, so now I was locked out of the coolness that was not my Muse.
I tried not to feel discouraged. Every artist has a Muse, right? It’s the rule. But what if I wasn’t a real writer? What if I didn’t get a muse because I’ve fooled myself this whole time? I searched near and far, high and low, until I encountered THE BOOK.
My heart soared. I knew THE BOOK. I loved THE BOOK. We shared many a laugh and a few tears in our long relationship. Perhaps THE BOOK was my muse.
“No way, sister,” It said. “I’m just a good friend to get you through the day. I’m not what you’re looking for.”
Damn it. Where was my muse?
I sat down before my computer. The blinking black line mocked me on the white screen. “Write me. Write me. Write me,” it taunted. I would, you son of a bitch, if my brain would just pick a damn plot and go with it. So there we sat; me and the blinking black line. Silent. Desperate. Alone. We just stared.
But then something strange happened. My fingers moved and letters appeared. Slowly those letters formed words and then sentences. In no time I had a page and then four, and then ten pages of story showed up almost magically.
Was this my muse? This screen? That mocking cursor? What?!
“You never lost it, fucktard.” A voice in my head scolded. “The Muse waits for you to just sit your ass down and write.”
Oh. Who knew it was so simple?
Tagged: animated adventures, facebook, fiction, humor, muse, twitter, writing
July 20, 2013
Creating a Killer: Psychopath, Sociopath or Just Evil?
Today is the official launch of THE LEGEND OF JACKSON MURPHY. Join me on Facebook for the virtual launch party and win some shit while you’re there. I’m giving away an assload of e-books, and you can have your choice of IN THE BONES or JACK if you win. I’m also giving away goodies, gift cards, e-books by fantastic authors, and some paperbacks. Prefer Twitter? Well you’re in luck. Katrina Monroe (@AuthorKatM) and I (@ReneeMJ) are also tweeting throughout the launch. Join us by using hashtag #WWJMD and you could win there as well.
As I shared interviews with each of the characters of Jack’s story this week, I realized they all had their little psychological horror stories, but none as disturbing as Jack’s.
In most of my work, there’s always a character that turns the stomach of most readers. He or she is beyond likability and seems evil to their core. In IN THE BONES, it’s Carroll Albert. Sociopath, for sure… well mostly. However, in THE LEGEND OF JACKSON MURPHY, that character is actually likable. You root for him. You want him to succeed while knowing what he’s doing is so very wrong.
Why is that? Well, he manipulates you into doing so. He’s charming, witty and so good at getting what he wants. Although I didn’t know it while I wrote the rough draft, I wanted to create a psychopath. It wasn’t until later, on rewrite six or seven, maybe even rewrite ten, I pondered whether his actions were even plausible. So I researched and found it disturbing that I’d managed to unwittingly create such a good little psychopath.
Here’s a condensed checklist of traits you’ll usually find in a psychopath:
CHARMING
Psychopaths have an amazing ability to be smooth, engaging, and glib. They’re never coy, their charm is not shy, and they are never self-conscious. Psychopaths don’t have that filter in their head that causes them to worry about offending someone by saying something. On the other hand, they’re equally adept at appearing to be a great listener. They feign empathy and have an uncanny knack for picking out your vulnerabilities and your hopes so that they can better manipulate you to suit their needs and goals.
DISHONEST
Pathological lying is a common trait among psychopaths, but the manner in which they lie can vary. For example, a moderate pathological liar is shrewd or sly. Omitting information or twisting facts to tell “white lies” is common. An extreme pathological liar is unscrupulous, manipulative and downright dishonest. However, he’s so damn charming and smooth he’ll often have you believing him in the end.
MANIPULATIVE
The use of deception and trickery to con others for personal gain is common for psychopaths. They lack concern for the suffering of others and will do whatever is necessary to see their personal needs and wants are met. Psychopaths can be ruthless in their exploitation of the vulnerabilities of others.
ARROGANT
A psychopath is arrogant; having an over-inflated sense of self-worth. You’ll find them to be opinionated, self-assured, and perhaps even cocky. This is because psychopaths truly believe they are superior.
EASILY BORED
A psychopath needs constant stimulation. He wants constant thrilling and new experiences or stimuli. Psychopaths take chances and do things that are risky for the sheer elation that comes from doing such things. In terms of work or relationships, this tendency leads to problems carrying things through because they get bored before the task is done.
REMORSELESS
Actually, a psychopath may not even be aware of his own guilt. If he is, he has no feelings or concern for the loss or pain his actions may have caused. It’s not that a psychopath wants to hurt others or that he gains pleasure from it, a psychopath just doesn’t care. He tends to be unconcerned, aloof, and cold-hearted. Instead of remorse, you’ll often find disdain for the victims.
EMPTY
Basically, as you’ve probably gathered from the above traits, a psychopath has a limited range and depth of feelings. They’re empty inside. Although outwardly they’ll seem friendly and warm, this is superficial. They do not feel friendly or warm.
PARASITIC
Psychopaths are selfish and they won’t hesitate to use you for their own gain.
IMPULSIVE
It’s common for a psychopath to be visibly irritable, annoyed or impatient. They deal with these feelings with threats, aggression and verbal abuse; because they have poor control of their anger and tend to act impulsively when you piss them off. Their impulsivity may be why many tend to lead nomadic existences. Psychopaths don’t have the ability to set long term goals or take responsibility for their lives. Actions or behaviors that aren’t premeditated get them into some hot water now and then. The inability to resist temptation and urges comes from the inability to foresee consequences. This impulsivity can make psychopaths unpredictable, erratic and reckless. However, a psychopath quickly learns from his mistakes and he doesn’t often make the same one twice.
PROMISCUOUS
Numerous brief, superficial relationships and sexual partners are nothing new for the psychopath. It’s all about their needs and their wants. They’re often indiscriminate in their choice of partners and have multiple relationships at the same time. Some may have a history of trying to sexually coerce others into sexual activity (aka: rape) or you may notice they discuss sexual exploits and conquests with pride.
Some have called Jack a sociopath, and they’re sort of accurate. You will find all of these traits in sociopaths as well. It’s easy to be confused as to which one you’re dealing with. However, there are small differences between a psychopath and a sociopath.
First, let’s look at intelligence:
A sociopath doesn’t care about the rights, feelings, and safety of another human being. Like a psychopath, they don’t even consider these things. However, a sociopath sometimes has no regard for their own safety either. The psychopath is a little smarter. While they’re risk takers, a psychopath is less likely to get caught. A sociopath will do something, get caught, and carry on without examining the mistakes in their plans. A psychopath on the other hand, will take the risk, look at how close they came to getting caught, or if they were caught, they’ll examine how that happened, and then they’ll do whatever is necessary to avoid the consequences the next time. In other words, a sociopath keeps doing the same thing over and over again. No matter how many times a plan or behavior leads to negative consequences, the sociopath repeats it in the same manner. Psychopaths have the intelligence to change the behavior or plan to avoid the consequences.
Psychopaths and sociopaths also differ in terms of remorse. A sociopath feels no remorse for the damage they cause because they lack the part of the brain that processes feelings for anyone but themselves. They might feign regret or shame, but often it’s not felt. Sociopaths can’t feel much of anything. Now, a psychopath will sometimes feel remorse after they have been caught, but this is usually because they were caught, not because they feel bad for the damage caused. The difference is that a psychopath has the ability to regret their actions, although the reasons tend to be shallow or self-involved; a sociopath does not.
A brief look into the history of a person can also reveal whether he is a sociopath or a psychopath. A sociopath usually has a history of problems with building and maintaining relationships, both romantic and platonic, repeated juvenile behavioral problems, poor performance in school, and problems with anything that requires responsibility and accountability on their part. They’re rebellious and narcissistic, and feel entitled to have or do whatever they want. They seldom respect authority or anything resembling it. Now, the psychopath doesn’t have much regard for authority either, but he may show limited respect for the law (because he wants to avoid consequences) and his school and juvenile record may be spotless (due to his manipulation of people and facts to elude detection). Because of his charm, and expert manipulation, a psychopath may have been quite popular in school and in later social circles. This is because psychopaths can cover their “illness.” They can force themselves to put on a friendly, “normal” mask when they must do so. A sociopath has no self-discipline and cannot usually do this. Psychopaths are impulsive, but they do have the ability to control urges when the need arises.
While neither can tolerate boredom, psychopaths and sociopaths differ in how they deal with it. Psychopaths can find productive ways to deal with it, primarily because they’re often highly intelligent and creative people. Sociopath relieve boredom by causing drama (know a few of these?). They’ll spark conflict between friends, coworkers or family or break the law, disturb the peace, etc. just for shits and giggles. They engage in inappropriate behaviors just to get attention. Causing conflict in someone else’s life is entertainment for the sociopath. Psychopaths can cause drama too, but it’s due to the selfish acts they do to get what they want. It’s not usually intentional. In other words, psychopaths have a purpose behind their destructiveness, and the damage left behind is simply a by-product. Sociopaths LIKE causing shit storms. They intentionally set out to hurt others.
In THE LEGEND OF JACKSON MURPHY, you might notice that Jack is almost entirely psychopath, but now and then he shows sociopathic traits. For example, his actions and thoughts in the final scene with James or Whitney shows a definite sociopath. It is possible for a person to be a sociopath AND a psychopath. The traits overlap from time to time. They come and go, changing as the person adapts to his situation or surroundings. Basically, there’s no sure way to distinguish one from the other unless you’re a professional who is given the time to dissect the person’s history and actions. But neither one is likely to cooperate long enough for someone to study them.
Now, how many of these traits apply to you or someone you know?
Tagged: character, fiction, psychopaths, serial killers, sociopaths, The Legend of Jackson Murphy, writing
July 19, 2013
The Legend of Jackson Murphy: Meet the Characters: Harvey (The Lawyer)
The official launch of THE LEGEND OF JACKSON MURPHY is tomorrow!
So far I’ve shared interviews with the star of the show, Jack Murphy, his wife Jenny, his mistress, Whitney, the business partner, Ray, the tenacious homicide cop, Detective Newman, the conman cousin, James, Jack’s mob connection, Tony, and Michael Thorne, the competition. When you stop by the official Facebook launch party you’ll find that some freebies and fun will include the information I’ve provided in the interviews and excerpts. Katrina Monroe will also be live-tweeting with Jack trivia, offering prizes and fun for Twitter folks too. Follow me (@ReneeMJ) or Kat (@AuthorKatM) or use the hashtag “#WWJMD” to get in on that fun. Yeah, John Mayer fans use the same hashtag, but he’ll have to learn to share.
Twitter folks will get the opportunity to win digital copies of the first 4 books in Darke Conteur’s Watchtower series, and you’ll all have the chance to win books by other authors too, including one of my personal favorites, Maria Zannini.
Everything will begin at 10 a.m. Give me time to get caffeinated, all right? In the morning, we’ll chat, goof around and if you have questions for any characters, or if you have a burning need to ask me something, this will be your chance. I’ll be giving away digital copies of Jack and IN THE BONES as well, lots of copies, so if you can’t stop by in the afternoon, say hello in the morning.
Today, let’s get to know Jack’s eccentric lawyer, Harvey.
Age: Early 40’s
Occupation: Lawyer
Background:
My family is a legal family. My father left my mother for some sweet piece of ass when I was ten, but he stayed part of my life. Ma, she never married again. My father was a small time lawyer. Had his own practice, but never made much cash. My mother was his legal secretary, but after the divorce, she went to work for the prestigious firm I work for today. The senior partners helped put me through law school. The agreement was that I’d come work for them, no questions asked when I was done. I figured it was a pretty sweet deal. I think Ma had something with the old man, but it was never confirmed. She’d dead now, so it’s no big deal.
What? My eye? Hockey. I wasn’t playing, though. Just spectating. This big jerk that used to bully the neighborhood kids did it. Not intentionally, or Ma would’ve sued. He was aiming for another kid and my giant head got in the way. That guy is serving a life sentence now. Funny how shit works out, right?
Mental Characteristics:
The senior partners offered to pay my way through school because I’m a genius. Sounds conceited, but I really am. I graduated high school at sixteen. Ma thought I might be autistic for a while there, but we cleared that up right fast. I’m not psychotic or anything. Don’t have the usual lawyer hang ups with the arrogance and womanizing and such. I do like women, but my wife’s got a short leash. Ever since that sweet little secretary—never mind. Best forgotten. Maybe I drink too much. Yeah, I can overindulge.
Spiritual Qualities:
I pray every day. Usually right before I enter the courtroom. Other than that, well I could be a better Christian, but I don’t think God really wants us to be in Church every Sunday. As long as we do right in general, God’s probably cool with that.
Emotional Characteristics:
I’m level-headed, easy going. You know; a good guy. I used to be a real head case, but that was back when I practiced family law. Bullshit, that’s what family law is. People are nuts, I tell you.
Motivating Desire:
I’m going to be partner one day. Right now every decision I make is based on reaching that goal. Just a matter of time. Once I’m there, it’s smooth sailing.
External Characteristics:
I’m not exactly handsome, but I’ve got character. Good teeth. Big, but good. Solid. I’m in good shape too. Doc says I’m going to live to be a hundred if I keep it that way.
What do you fear?
Spiders. Creepy little fuckers, right?
Do you have secrets?
I’m a lawyer. What do you think? You want to know the big secret, though? I know what Jack’s up to. As his lawyer, I can keep my mouth shut, but I’ve known the man long enough to know when he’s scheming. I’m just going to stay the hell out of his way. Something tells me that’s the best way to keep breathing.
Excerpt:
Though Jack found Harvey amusing, the man had a big mouth. The upside was lunches were always interesting. As he picked at his undercooked pasta, Jack realized Harvey was so drunk he probably wouldn’t remember their discussion anyway. His old friend waved to the waiter and held up his sixth empty gin and tonic.
It was now or never. “Do you handle divorce?”
“Why? You want a divorce, Jackie?”
“No, a guy I know asked for advice. I mentioned we were having lunch. He knows you’re my lawyer and he needs someone he can trust. Poor bastard could lose everything he’s worked for over a simple mistake.”
“What did he do?” Harvey furrowed his brow, but serious wasn’t an expression he was capable of with big eyes staring out of an ugly face.
His greasy mass of curly black hair sprung from his oversized, square shaped head as though trying to escape. Sometimes if he got really drunk, like now, his nose made a whistling sound when he breathed. When Harvey was a kid, he took a hockey stick to the face. The result was a broken nose and a glass eye. Unfortunately, all his mom could afford at the time was a used replacement. Over the years, he could have bought himself a new one at least a dozen times. But old Harvey said he liked his used eye, despite its morbid beginnings. The effect, however, was like looking at a Siberian Husky—Harvey’s blue glass eye staring blankly at the seat next to Jack, while his brown one drunkenly ogled the waitress as she walked by.
“Are you awake, Jackie? What did the guy do that was so wrong?”
“He married the bitch.”
Harvey frowned for a second before erupting in hysterical laughter, his good eye watering as he leaned back in his chair.
Jack didn’t understand what Harvey found so amusing. He was serious. Still, he joined him with a half-hearted chuckle.
Harvey’s big white teeth reminded him of an old mule Jenny and he rented on their honeymoon in Mexico. It used to bare its chompers for treats from the tourists. He wished the man would stop laughing. Jack glanced at the other tables and sank into his chair as people turned to stare.
“Isn’t that always the problem? So he divorces her, big deal.” Harvey shrugged.
“No Harv, he doesn’t want to lose his money. He earned it. She’s never worked a day in her life.”
“Did he earn the money before or while he was married to her?”
“Most of it was after they got married, but she never did anything except spend it. Why should she get half?”
“Okay, here’s the thing. Your friend needs to understand the law. As long as they’re married, she is entitled to one-half of every single dollar he brings in. All of it whether she earned it or not. Just as he would be entitled to half of what she made if the roles were reversed. The court doesn’t care who did what, marital property and all that shit.”
“It’s not right though. She’s a leech. Why should he pay her anything?”
“That’s why I don’t do divorces anymore. Too messy. I can send your friend along to a good guy, but you better tell him it doesn’t matter how good your lawyer is; the only way he won’t pay is if she’s dead. Then she’ll be paying him won’t she?” He laughed at his joke.
Jack smiled. He couldn’t kill Jenny, not with his own hands, but someone else might. It was something to think about.
Could he do it? Jack didn’t ponder the question for long.
Yes, he could.
“So how’s your old lady?” Harvey asked.
“Still kicking,” Jack muttered.
Tagged: book launch, characters, fiction, Harvey, humor, lawyers, The Legend of Jackson Murphy
July 18, 2013
The Legend of Jackson Murphy: Meet the Characters: Michael Thorne
Eek! I’m late today, I know. Blame the heat, or the dogs, or whatever. I’m so easily distracted it doesn’t matter. Just 2 days away from the official launch of THE LEGEND OF JACKSON MURPHY .
So far I’ve shared interviews with the star of the show, Jack Murphy, his wife Jenny, his mistress, Whitney, the business partner, Ray, the tenacious homicide cop, Detective Newman, the conman cousin, James, and Jack’s mob connection, Tony. When you stop by the official Facebook launch party you’ll find that some freebies and fun will include the information I’ve provided in the interviews and excerpts. Katrina Monroe will also be live-tweeting with Jack trivia, offering prizes and fun for Twitter folks too. Follow me (@ReneeMJ) or Kat (@AuthorKatM) or use the hashtag “#WWJMD” to get in on that fun. Yeah, John Mayer fans use the same hashtag, but he’ll have to learn to share.
Twitter folks will get the opportunity to win digital copies of the first 4 books in Darke Conteur’s Watchtower series, and you’ll all have the chance to win books by other authors too, including one of my personal favorites, Maria Zannini.
I’ve made some changes to the times of the virtual launch. I’ll be available all day, beginning at 10 a.m. Give me time to get caffeinated, all right? In the morning, we’ll chat, goof around and if you have questions for any characters, or if you have a burning need to ask me something, this will be your chance. I’ll be giving away digital copies of Jack and IN THE BONES as well, lots of copies, so if you can’t stop by in the afternoon, say hello in the morning.
Today, let’s get to know, Michael Thorne, the pain in the ass competitor that wants to bury Jack. Tune in tomorrow for a look at Jack’s eccentric lawyer, Harvey.
Age: Early 30’s
Occupation: Businessman
Background:
I come from a wealthy family. In fact, we’re so wealthy, I really don’t have to work. But my parents believed in making things look good, so I founded Michael Thorne & Sons. I have no kids. No wife. But people like that familial link, and in the future I might have children, so it’s not technically misleading. I’ve used money to open doors that are closed to average people, but this man, Jackson Murphy, keeps getting in my way. He’s quite successful, and his bank account is impressive, so buying him out isn’t an easy task. Good thing he’s as dishonest as I am. That I can work with.
Mental Characteristics:
I’m extremely intelligent. How could I not be with the best education money can buy? What I don’t know, I pay others to know. So it all works out in the end. Some of my exes call me narcissistic, but they’re jealous of my confidence, money and my obvious good looks. I don’t worry about things that don’t concern me, so I’m relatively stress free.
Spiritual Qualities:
I believe in the power of money. If you have enough money, you can do anything. Money buys power, love, and whatever else you need to help you sleep at night. Other than that, my faith is in myself. I don’t need an invisible, and likely imagined, being dictating right and wrong. When we leave this earth, we’ll all go to the same place. I’m certain about that. Some of us just have an easier time getting there.
Motivating Desire:
In case you missed it; money. Well…I suppose it’s more power than money. I want to be the guy with all the money and all the power. The top dog. People envy me. They want to BE me. I’d like to keep that trend moving along.
External Characteristics:
Perfection. My physical appearance is due in part to genetics and good old fashioned hard work. I exercise, eat right, stay away from alcohol, unless of course it’s the best sort of alcohol, and I let my doctor take care of the rest. Not a gray hair on my full head of blond hair and only the most distinguishing of lines on my face.
What do you fear?
Poverty, but then, who doesn’t fear that?
Do you have secrets?
As if I’d share such a thing.
Excerpt:
Chez Martine’s was a fancy, pretentious French restaurant. Jack knew the owner, and he couldn’t possibly have been more German.
Smart man.
Dress it like a bistro you’d find in Paris, on a larger scale of course, charge a fortune for crêpes, or fillet of whatever, and watch the rich assholes come running.
Guys born rolling in it made Jack want to puke. They had no clue about money, and spent it as though it grew on a tree in their backyard. If it cost too much they had to have it. Bunch of fucking knobs.
It figured Thorne would eat at Martine’s; he had money to waste. Jack skipped these places unless a client insisted, and certainly never paid. It was robbery plain and simple; like handing them his wallet before bending over.
Thorne had arrived earlier at the restaurant, as Jack expected he would. The first rule he’d learned when he opened his own business was to be one step ahead of his opponent— or customer. Thorne thought he had the advantage, but he was wrong. Jack knew what he knew and Thorne didn’t know that he knew, making him the one ahead. Jack suppressed a smile at the convoluted thought. He’d crush the arrogant prick before this was done. If he couldn’t crush him financially, it would have to be literally.
The maître d led the way to Thorne’s table. Pasting a nervous smile to his face Jack followed. Thorne sat at a table at the back of the restaurant so Jack had to walk past all of the snotty bluebloods on his way through. Heads turned to stare, and Jack stared right back.
Yes, his suit was off the rack. But when they all died, Jack would have more money than they would because he didn’t pay through the nose for a tag on the back of his clothes; a tag no one ever saw until he undressed.
Stare, you stupid freaks, I can afford to eat here every day.
Jack hated these places. He hated the diners’ ugly pinched faces even more.
By the time Jack stood at Thorne’s table, his face hurt from forcing his cheeks to keep the smile in place.
“Jack, you’re late.” He didn’t rise to shake Jack’s hand.
All right then, he wanted no class? Jack could do that.
“Sorry, I had to nail the girlfriend before I left. Gotta get my money’s worth, you know? I put a lot of cash into that piece of ass so I tap it every chance I get.”
“That’s interesting. Weren’t you married?”
“She died,” Jack deadpanned.
Thorne’s mouth opened, but no sound left his throat.
Jack laughed. “She was fucking Ray anyway. You remember Ray don’t you? He was my business partner, and apparently, we partnered out of the office as well. Actually, he saved me a lot of hassle. With him banging her, she wasn’t nagging me for it. Once they have kids, it’s just plain unpleasant to look at. I tell you, Jenny was like the Grand Canyon after the last one. I could hear an echo sometimes, I swear.”
“Okay, so you know about Ray and your wife. I figured you weren’t so stupid you’d let that get by you.” He smiled.
If Thorne loosened up and stopped being such an ass, he could be a nice looking guy. Blond hair and blue eyes, all-American for sure. Jack wondered why he hadn’t married; rich jerks always had a trophy wife.
He’s probably a fanny-bandit.
“Why are we here?” Jack asked. No point in drawing it out.
A waiter slipped a beer stealthily in front of him and vanished.
He didn’t order a drink, but at least it wasn’t some gay man’s cocktail. Jack took a swig and gagged. Piss warm. Mr. Thorne could pay for that. Jack did not pay for piss.
“Some facts have recently come to my attention, and they’re…how do I put this? They’re bits of information you’ll find very interesting.”
“Skip the fucking crap and just tell me what you want.”
“You’re a prick. Did you know that?” Thorne’s voice cracked.
His cool guy image was obviously slipping.
Thorne continued, “I’m trying to be a nice guy and you are making it very hard.”
“Why should you be nice to me? I don’t want any favors. You’re here because you want something so just spit it out.”
“I know about the bidding. How’s that?” He leaned back in his chair, as though he’d just revealed the Coke secret formula.
“I also know about what you’ve been keeping from the IRS. I could crush you right now. You’d do the rest of your life for fraud, tax evasion, bribing officials, and probably a lot more once they begin to dig.”
Jack gazed at him for a minute or two. Should he play the game and act shocked or scared?
“You don’t know anything.” Nervous was the way to go.
“You were very unkind to Ray and he didn’t appreciate it. He might have had second thoughts later, but he came straight to me when you knifed him in the back.”
“Ray was a fucking lunatic. I didn’t do anything to him. He was screwing my wife as you well know. Was I supposed to be best buds with the prick that was nailing my wife? I don’t think so. He didn’t have the balls to do anything like what you’re saying.”
“Okay then, here are a few names, Jonny Tanor, Tom Kemp, Sammy D., and Lou Vito. All of these men cheated out of paying jobs because you stole their bids. You undercut them and I doubt they’ll be pleased. Do you know what they do to cheats in their world?”
“Are you threatening me?”
“Of course not. I just want you to be aware of what I could do with my information. I could go to the IRS, or I could go to the Teamsters. I could go to these guys and whisper in their ears as well, but I haven’t yet. I want to make a deal.”
“A deal?” Here it was.
“I think it’s a fair deal. You get to live, I get everything else.”
“I don’t get it.”
Play dumb, that’s the way to win this.
“If you want this to go away, you give me everything.” He smiled, his perfectly straight, perfectly white, and perfectly expensive teeth sparkling in the candlelight. “Well, I wouldn’t take it without compensation of course. You do have to live somehow. I want you to sell me your business. All of it: client lists, jobs, you know the deal. I will pay fair market value for it. I want you gone. You sell out, leave and never do business again.”
“Do I look stupid?” He had to be a complete nutter if he thought Jack would go for that.
Thorne had nothing that would send Jack to jail. Michelle was fixing the books as they spoke. As for the mob guys, Tony, Jack’s source, was in their organization. It wasn’t like they weren’t doing the same thing all over town.
“Of course you don’t, which is why I came to you before doing anything rash. I thought you were a reasonable man who would see the wise thing to do here. I hope I wasn’t wrong.”
He waved to the waiter for another drink.
Jack stared. What an annoying face he had. He longed to punch those perfect teeth out of his mouth. He wanted to smash his head off the wall until his hundred-dollar haircut was covered in blood and brain. Bastard thought he had Jack by the balls, but he didn’t know anything. “I would need to see a contract and a few days to look it over.”
Thorne reached under the table and brought up a briefcase. It looked as if he’d come prepared for Jack to give in.
Unbelievable.
“I took the liberty of having my lawyers draw something up. Of course, you have ten business days to look it over and get back to me. I welcome any changes. I’m not so hardheaded that I won’t negotiate. The terms are firm, but the money I can move a little on. Just a little, mind you.”
He handed Jack a stack of papers.
Jack didn’t bother to glance down before folding them. “Don’t think this means I’m going to agree.” Jack stood. “I will consider what you’ve told me before I think it over. How am I supposed to know you can back up your story?”
“I knew you’d ask.” Thorne produced a large brown envelope. “These are just copies. I have the originals.”
“How did you get started in this business?” Jack asked, suddenly curious. “Did you have to work your way in?”
“Work my way in? No, I don’t have the time for that nonsense. I bought it. I bought a little company that was going under and I bought my contracts until I was known.”
Everything just handed to him. The thought made Jack ill.
“My parents wanted me to do something so I chose this. I can sit back, enjoy the money rolling in, and pay lesser people to do the work. My hands don’t even get dirty.”
“That’s what I thought.” Jack walked away with his stack of blackmail.
Two weeks to get rid of Michael Thorne.
Tagged: book launch, characters, fiction, humor, The Legend of Jackson Murphy
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The Legend of Jackson Murphy: Meet the Characters: Detective Newman
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