The Suitcase

The Suitcase.
I beg that before you pack to leave,
You follow these instructions; please.
Place my passion in first,
Then place it under the pillow of your bed.
Wrap yourself in it when you are alone at night,
And let it lead you, to where it wants to be led.
Place my heart in the centre,
But keep it close to your own.
Don’t leave it on the journey
To die cruelly all alone.
Let my love be the last
That you fold carefully within.
When you arrive unleash it.
Wear it like perfume,
Clothing your skin.

Danny Kemp
http://theauthordannykemp.com/
Danny Kemp is a best-selling London based author whose thriller The Desolate Garden is being made into a 30 million $ film. He is also well-known to many of us from FB!

Macaroni

            There were only three times a day while in Army basic training when I was completely alone, and that was in the port-a-johns just outside of the mess hall. It became the only time I would be able to smoke, so I developed the habit of wolfing my chow down then holing up in the crapper hot-boxing a cigarette.

It was a brilliantly blistering July day, and we had just arrived for lunch en masse, standing at attention in our uniforms, web gear and helmets. As was the established routine, at command and in unison, we all took our helmets off and held them in front of us until we heard the barked order to place them on the tarmac between our feet, and it had better be with one sound of fifty helmets clopping onto the pavement or we’d do it again until we got it right. Then came the web suit – a wide, strong utility belt with thick suspenders designed to hold a rucksack, a canteen, a small shovel, two full clips of .22 shells for our M16A1, and various metal loops for grenades - placed around the helmet, also in unanimity.

The drill sergeants had us go into the chow hall in single file, take our plate of food and eat it as quickly as we could. I always tried to be one of the first ones out, just so I could get a prime seat in the portable toilets outside and smoke. This day, as I puffed away, trying not to notice the lung-searing chemical smell wafting up from below, I spotted a pigeon feather caught in the vent. Almost unconsciously, I picked it free and sat twirling it between my thumb and forefinger as I inhaled smoke.

In a couple of minutes I was done, so I hot-footed it over to my position in the platoon and waited. About half the group was already milling about, chatting with each other. As there was nobody close to me, I squatted down and sat on my helmet, absentmindedly putting the feather in an elastic headband wrapped around the helmet’s base, designed to hold the forest-colored liner in place. And then I forgot it was there, plain and simple.

Soon, the drill sergeants sauntered out of the mess hall and the entire platoon stood behind their gear. A couple of commands away, and we had out gear back on and were marching back to the barracks
              when one of the drill sergeants yelled at the platoon to stop, came within an inch of my face and screamed, “Harding, what in the hell are you doing with a goddamned feather in your helmet?”

Without hesitation I stammered, “Whawhat feather?”

The DI yanked it out of my headband and held it out in front of me, and though he didn’t say a word to me, I could feel his eyes burning into me. I’m sure my own eyes must have been as large as frisbees as I felt all the blood drain from my head, threatening to take me down in a white cloud of unconsciousness. My brain screamed Deny!, and I found my voice squeaking, “I . . .duhdon’t know!”

Instead of scorching me with his tongue, the drill sergeant took a step back, held the feather up high for everyone to see, and thundered, “So which one of you shitheads thought it would be a good joke to pull on your platoon leader (me, btw)?” After a few seconds of nothing but fifty scared men breathing and looking around, the sergeant added, “Somebody better come clean, or you’ll all be low-crawling all over the company grounds!”

Nothing.

The drill sergeant had us double time (meaning a jogging run) to our barracks and proceeded to make everyone but me hit the ground and crawl themselves through a maze of dirty obstacles. I stood next to the sergeant as he punished the platoon, reminding them that one of our number had brought this about, and that when he found out who the culprit was, he’d make sure they all found out who the clown was. One of the things he said was, “I’m not going to punish Harding, because he was the object of your little prank!” Knowing I was indeed the one who had done this, I felt shame as I’d never known before, witnessing the entire platoon being grilled in the indomitable heat.

Finally unable to take it anymore, I approached the drill instructor and blurted out the truth, willing to face whatever derision would befall me. To my utter shock, the sergeant made the platoon stop and stumble into formation, then told the ragged lot, “Your platoon leader has just informed me that he’s willing to take the blame for this, and I find that so damned honorable I’m going to show each one of you how unworthy you are to be in his presence! Now back to your bellies and crawl!” If this story happens across the view of any of those poor guys in my platoon, I want you to know that life has a way of balancing everything out, and I’m sure at least three of my own personal hells were in payment for that day. 

Jay Harding  

 http://www.jaytharding.weebly.com 

Facebook Author Page: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Jay-T-Harding-Writer/34011897933730

Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/jaytharding   

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B008RM847E

PIRATES, KARMA, AND MY UNLIKELY RISE TO #1

            In the last three weeks I’ve experienced more personal accomplishments than I ever could have imagined. First of all, “My Temporary Life,” became available as a free download in an Amazon promotion. The idea is that folks download it for free and with the momentum that has built, when it becomes a paid download, it sells. Well-IT WORKED! It became the most downloaded ebook in North America for one day, a few Sundays ago.                    

            “My Temporary Life,” built up momentum like a rocket taking off, there was nothing gradual about it at all. By the second day, it was second overall in free downloads. On the third day, well you know what happened, because you heard me. You heard me screaming. Yep, doesn’t matter where you were, you probably heard me. We hit #1 overall.

            So, then, “paid” day happened. It changed over at midnight on Sunday and paid sales slowly started to trickle in. The next morning I expected to see 15 or 20 sales. We had over 200. Over 200 folks pulled out their credit cards and took a chance on my self-published book, that over 120 publishers and agents turned down (oh, did I forget to mention that part).

            Sales continued all day, and the days after. We peaked in the overall rankings at #9, but it didn’t stop there. An independent website emailed to tell us that we were the #7 most downloaded independent ebook of the week; we did a bunch of online interviews, emails and reviews stacked up like crazy, the momentum was deafening.

            We hit 60,000 downloads, 51,500 of which were free There were so many requests for information that we issued a press release. Yep, we issued a press release talking about the book that I wrote in the spare bedroom of my house, and emails kept coming in. A Dallas, Texas television station ran the story. They were interested in the fact that over 120 agents and publishers had rejected “My Temporary Life” yet all these folks were downloading it. We were on the Movers and Shakers list. We were one of the top 10 self-published ebooks on Amazon. We were #2 in Romance/Suspense. We were #2 in Mystery/Thriller. And more 5 Star reviews kept coming in every day.

            At dinner one night, Jacquie and I sat and read the newest reviews. Two of them made us cry. It’s an amazing experience to read about how your work, your characters, can touch another person. The sales figures are amazing, and they really are amazing, but the almost overwhelming part is that you have an opportunity to touch so many people. Our current numbers as of this day are over 67,000 people have downloaded “My Temporary Life.” Now, while all this momentum was carrying us through, it was also getting a little help-I was spreading the word. You see, although, I do trust in Amazon, I was helping it along. I was posting interviews, sales figures, anything I could. I was on Amazon discussion boards, Kindleboards, KDP’s Community site, Facebook, Twitter, even Craigslist! All I wanted to do was tell people about my book. And, in doing all of this, not a lot of other things were happening, including writing. And, you see, there are several things that I have to do in my life to feel good. One of them is running. I need to run long distances. The other is-I need to write. I was running a little bit, and sleeping four or five hours a night, but not writing at all. That was the first problem. The second problem was when the pirates showed up.

            “My Temporary Life” showed up on a piracy site. Someone had taken my work and changed some things, and was giving it away. So, we quickly sent a letter to them, and the owners of the site were kind enough to take it down right away. I remember years ago, sitting in front of my computer and playing with Napster, and I felt karma kicking me solidly on my rear end.

            Our sales have tapered off a little lately, but folks are still buying it every day. And, oh yes, the sequel has been started. “My Name Is Hardly” is underway, and I’m very excited about it. I’m aiming for a December release (gulp), and as you can tell from the title, Hardly’s story is going to be told. So, thank you everybody for Facebooking, and Tweeting, and emailing your friends. Every time you’ve told someone about my book it made a huge difference, and the book that over 120 agents and, oh never mind, that doesn’t matter now, the word is out there, and people are enjoying the book. Thank you all, it’s truly appreciated!

Martin Crosbie
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Fatal Compulsions

My first book came out yesterday and I am so excited.  I have a second book coming out this Fall as well.

Fatal Compulsions is the story of Audry Sampson, a forensic psychologist with a gift for solving the hardest puzzles of dark human motivation.  But when men are being murdered by complete strangers across the country, she is faced with a puzzle that refuses understanding. The murders seem simple, solved quickly and prosecuted cleanly, with no connection to each other...  Except one thing: The murderers have no idea why they killed their victims. Only able to murmur, "He won't be able to hurt her now," their confusion pulls Audry into a mystery that refuses solving... Until a new victim turns up.
Excerpt::
"Don was on his way back to his hotel room after meeting up with a few old friends for a nightcap at one of the local bars in Madison. He had decided that a nice quiet drive would clear his mind and since he would be leaving town in less than forty hours, it would be nice to sort of say goodbye to the area as he didn’t know when he’d be back out this way for a while.
Randomly choosing a road and cranking on some old school country music, he meandered down one lane after another, enjoying the solitude and the autumnal Georgia night.
Just as he rounded a curve in the road, his car lights slid off of a silvery figure off to one side of the road that was making its way into his lane. Thinking it was a deer, Don slammed on his brakes in an effort not to hit the animal. He gripped the wheel, maintaining control of his car, and the vehicle quickly shuddered to a screeching halt. Don glanced out of his rearview mirror, expecting to see the tail end of the animal as it disappeared into the woods.
What he saw drew an exclamation of disbelief from his lips."
L. T. Bentleyhttp://leisawatkinsma.wordpress.com/
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