Monday, July 5, 2010
My Next Novel
This week I thought I would give you all a preview into my next novel. It is a thriller about an ex-cop who's been recruited into a clandestine arm of the FBI, called the Omega Division. Their job is to take care of business, when the justice system fails.
Now before you think they are a simple vigilante spinoff, you need to understand that they have a secret weapon that the courts do not, they have the truth.
When a suspect is brought in to Omega headquarters, they are strapped into a special type of MRI machine, called a Functional MRI. With this instrument operators can read the activation levels of different areas of the brain. When the suspect is interrogated, the operator can see what parts of the brain are activated and determine whether they are either lying, or telling the truth. (FYI, this technology is real, but not yet available in courts today)
If the suspects did the crime, Omega operators like my lead character Dan G. Ross (get it? if not say it fast a couple of times) take care of business. If they didn't, they are set free.
Everything goes fine for Dan until his twin brother Jimmy is accused of a crime that Dan knows he did not commit, and the machine says he is guilty. Dan now questions not only the technology, but the agency, and the guilt or innocence of all of his victims. He leaves a lot of mayhem in his quest to find out the truth, which of course he does, at the end of the book.
Just for fun, here is the first page. Let me know what you think
Silicon Valley California
I stood for a moment in shock not only from the horrific scene, but from the fact that I had verbally reacted. I never express my thoughts in words, but what I saw would crack the resolve of even the strongest individual.
My usual response is to smile and say nothing, or more likely, release a torrent of smartass comments. I guess I use humor to release the pressure of stressful of situations, but in this situation, I couldn’t think of anything even the slightest bit ironic, or remotely funny.
I felt the bile rising in my throat, and grit my teeth to maintain some measure of composure. I knew I should call for help, but when I pressed the transmit button on my shoulder mounted microphone, the words wouldn’t come out. It was as if I couldn’t force air through my vocal cords. I swallowed hard and shoved my emotions as far as I could below the surface, but it didn’t help and my vision blurred as mist began to form in the corners of my eyes.
I hadn’t actually expected a body to be here. The last few calls like this had been mistaken identity. Some moron saw a pile of clothes next to a dumpster and assumed it was a dead body. I had no reason to think that this situation would be any different, but when I turned the corner to the address given to me by the police dispatcher, I saw the bloody mess. Instead of seeing a homeless person sipping on a bottle of cheap wine, I saw a body with an ear to ear gash across her throat.
Along the edge of the cut, a stain of blood traveled down the front and left dark streaks on her once tan blouse. On the ground, the twin headlight beams of my cruiser sparkled off the surface of pools of blood on both sides. Since the blood hadn’t yet dried, that meant one thing, this had just happened.