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  <title>Future Bestsellers (every Monday, Wednesday and Friday)</title>
  <subtitle>from the mind of Mean Koontz</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>Mean Koontz</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2008-09-04T05:08:55Z</updated>
  <lj:journal userid="16348382" username="meankoontz" type="personal"/>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:meankoontz:2611</id>
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    <title>BACKWARDS</title>
    <published>2008-09-04T03:56:54Z</published>
    <updated>2008-09-04T05:08:55Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;p&gt;Susan Cork is lucky to be alive. That's what her doctors tell her when she wakes up in hospital missing three days worth of memories. She was found in the crumpled wreck of her SUV following a freak electrical storm, with injuries that no simple wreck could explain. And then there's the things she does remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dotted in Susan's memory are things that don't make any sense. Addresses she's never been to. Conversations about things that never happened. Weird items and books, seemingly out of nowhere. But strangest of all is the message she feels is for the town's new Sherrif, Lewis &amp;quot;Buck&amp;quot; McGraw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The gruff&amp;nbsp;Sherrif&amp;nbsp;just stared at her, making her feel a little foolish. She tried to smile, and looked away. &amp;quot;I'm sure it's nothing, just the result of getting knocked in the head. Frankly, I don't know why it was so important-&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;McGraw was ignoring her, talking into his two-way radio. &amp;quot;I don't care how nuts it sounds, get on it!&amp;quot; If she had to say, she thought he looked terrified.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though there's no way she could know it, Susan has the clue Buck needs to solve his first big case. As she confides more in Buck, her memory starts to open up, showing snatches of the night of her crash, as well as more incongruous visions. Even though Buck is a sensible man, he knows in his gut that something big is happening here, and she's going to need his help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now Susan and her reluctant ally must work together to chase down these strange leads and unravel the mystery of what happened to her that fateful night. As more and more unexplained connections are made, Buck must face the fact that his first case is far from closed, and what looked like a simple explanation is just the surface of something far more sinister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out this week: The road to the truth is fraught with danger, and Susan Cork must walk it BACKWARDS!&lt;/p&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:meankoontz:2504</id>
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    <title>EYES</title>
    <published>2008-08-30T03:55:34Z</published>
    <updated>2008-08-30T03:55:34Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;p&gt;Norman Wearington knows that no-one is out to get him.He's been fighting against that idea since his early teens. Medication hasn't helped, nor electro-shock therapy. He has been forced to live with his hallucinatory paranoia with only the help of his therapist, Dr. Lucy Pankopkin, keeping him out of a straightjacket. Now in his second year of university, Norman finally feels that he taken control of his illness. But things are not as simple as they seem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all starts innocently enough. Leaving the Biology building for the day, Norman feels the familiar tickling at the back of his mind that says he is being watched. He knows that he shouldn't look, but midterms have worn him down and he indulges himself a backward glance. Standing under the line of trees behind the building is the cute girl from his chemistry lab. But something is wrong. He hurries on. Over the next week it keeps happening, the anxiety, the distant watchers. Fearing a backslide, he consuts with Dr. Pankopkin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She proposes a simple investigative test: Norman will wear a tiny camera affixed to his glasses to record everything he sees, giving Dr. Pankopkin an objective account of what's happening to him. At first glance, the videotape shows nothing out of the ordinary, just the same behaviours in people that paranoids latch onto. She gets up for another cup of coffee, but as she looks back at the screen she stops. She rewinds the tape. In the background, people have taken up positions at regular intervals, new ones arriving as he walks. They follow him all the way to her office, just far enough away to escape notice, and are joined by a group already waiting. Lucy feels her heart pounding in her chest. She stops the tape and moves to the curtains, pulling them back. At the end of the block she can barely make out the same four figures. They're watching her too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT HAPPENS WHEN SANITY AND MADNESS TRADE PLACES?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lucy knows she can't tell Norman, not until she's learned who they are and what they're after. Some kind of bizarre Reality TV show? A scientific experiment? Thinking that must be it she takes some high-res photographs of her watchers. That's when the fear sets in. These aren't scientists or camera crews. They're her friends and neighbours. She goes back to the tape. The people following Norman, they're a mix of students, faculty, and strangers. All of them with the same expression of limitless patience. And there's something else. Something in their eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Norman has seen it too, even if he doesn't realise it. He's seen a lot more besides, and when the revelations come what began as a slip of the mind will finish in bloody terror. Because the eyes watching him have plans for Norman, and the lives of innocents are small coin indeed to see those plans through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming September 22nd: Horror that hits you right between the EYES!&lt;/p&gt;</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:meankoontz:2082</id>
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    <title>BY WHOSE HAND</title>
    <published>2008-08-28T03:46:45Z</published>
    <updated>2008-08-28T03:46:45Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;p&gt;From his desk in "the pit" of programmers at a nondescript Palo Alto tech company, Luke Wallace can see the ocean. Most days it provides soothing relief for eyes that have spent too long on a block of code. Today, though, he can't seem to get it out of his head. Not even the ocean, but what it represents to most people: Escape. Unable to concentrate, he packs up his laptop and decides to visit a friend in San Francisco. As his work disappears into the rearview mirror he sees a flash of light and a column of fire. He slams on the brakes just as the shockwave of his exploding office rocks his car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the suburbs of Monroeville, Mary Peterson relaxes with a gin &amp;amp; tonic and the latest financial journals. Cavendish had been right, she doesn't know what do with her sabbatical. Determined to put work aside, she picks up a nearby crossword puzzle. As she briskly completes the clues, she unknowning begins to fill the margins with columns of symbols.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inside his cell in the Coxsackie Correctional Facility, Ellis "Blimp" Thomas checks to make sure no-one is watching, then lifts up the corner of his mattress. He screws up his eyes in concentration and points two of his fingers at a tiny crack in the concrete wall. Almost immediately the crack begins to widen, coughing out dust. Blimp smiles to himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the long-term care wing of Seattle's Northwest Hospital, a comatose sixteen-year old boy sits bolt upright in bed. He is awake and aware, but the monitors show no change in his vital signs. He doesn't know who he is, but that doesn't matter. All that matters to him is the desert, because something is waiting there, and if he doesn't stop it, millions will die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FOUR STRANGERS LINKED ONLY BY THE INEXPLICABLE MAY BE OUR BEST HOPE FOR SURVIVAL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drawn by instincts they cannot explain, these four unlikely heroes begin to search for others like themselves, fighting fear, mistrust, and doubt. But when Luke's "internal suggestions" bring him to the scene of a slaughter, he realises that something deadly is moving against them, and it has a head-start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This March, the Wheel of Fate will be sent spinning, but BY WHOSE HAND?&lt;/p&gt;</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:meankoontz:1813</id>
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    <title>DEVIL'S CARNIVAL</title>
    <published>2008-08-26T03:43:52Z</published>
    <updated>2008-08-26T03:43:52Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;p&gt;Bramblethorpe Tower has become a fixture of modern San Francisco. A gleaming steel-and-glass column, it has come to stand for excellence in the fields of finance, technology, and litigation. It serves as a satellite office to some of the world's most prestigious corporations. Unfortunately, after this Tuesday, the Tower will be burned into the country's mind as a symbol of something altogether different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday night, 47th floor. Tim Cushing rubs his eyes and stares at the monitor in front of him. Tim is an analyst for The Stevenson Group and he's desperate to make a good impression on his bosses. He's so focused on putting the finishing touches on tomorrow's presentation that he doesn't notice his desk phone go out. Or his cel phone. It's only when he tries to check his personal email that he realizes that all the communications systems are down. He doesn't get nervous until he finds the elevators aren't working. He doesn't panic until he finds the first body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday night, 23rd floor. The janitor has finally stopped bleeding. The man with the white gloves stands up and presses a button on his earpiece. "Score another one," he says, and smiles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday night, 4th floor. The man in the cowboy hat takes his hand off the knife and laughs to himself that it keeps the guard's hat on. A buzz sounds in his ear. He grins as he receives the message. He pushes a button and replies. "One for me, too."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWO KILLERS, NINETY-EIGHT STORIES, ONE DEADLY GAME&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tim's first instinct is to hide and wait it out. Access to the ground floor has been cut off by demoltion. All the security and alarm systems have been bypassed. The reinforced windows won't give. For those inside, there is no escape. From the outisde, Bramblethorpe Tower looks like it always has, and that peace will last until the first workers show up early Wednesday morning. But when he overhears the man with the white gloves enumerate the remaining "targets," he knows he'll have to join the game if they're to have any hope of survival.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New this January: Ladies and gentlemen, if you dare, step right up and enter the DEVIL'S CARNIVAL!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:meankoontz:1755</id>
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    <title>PRIME MOVER</title>
    <published>2008-08-23T03:56:33Z</published>
    <updated>2008-08-23T03:56:33Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;p&gt;Ed Arbutus is a man of small ambition and a peculiar gift he doesn't understand. For the past ten years he's eked out a meager living letting his gut tell him how to bet on roulette. So when he sees two suits watching him "work" and feels a heavy hand on his shoulder, he thinks he knows what to expect: A quick trip to the door and a not-so-polite request to take his money elsewhere. Certainly not an invitation to a four-figure steak dinner and an offer that would change his life forever. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Look fellas," Ed gulped his wine, feeling completely out of his depth. "I don't know what to tell you. I'm just lucky." He looked around apologetically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man in the glasses smiled thinly. "Mr. Arbutus, we're prepared to offer you a hundred thousand dollars for two days of your time. I'd say you're extraordinarily lucky."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They dress like CEO's, talk like scientists and act like spies. Before Ed knows it they have him in a limo headed toward California, barely giving him time to leave word of his whereabouts with Cathy Sinclair, undergraduate stripper and his only real friend. Still, Ed can't shake his uneasiness, and his skepticism is rewarded when a trio of thugs end his trip with a hail of bullets. Miraculously unharmed, Ed watches as the three men are picked off by sniper fire. For some reason, he's allowed to escape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Convinced that it has to be the work of rival mobs, Ed decides the safest course is running. Unfortunately, he's not up to the job. He's going to need smarts, and that means Cathy. At first she thinks he's crazy, but after a bizarre run-in with two men from The Church of the Final Configuration she knows something's up, and it's bigger than mobs and casino profits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What starts as a simple bid for survival turns into a globe-spanning mystery as crazies come out of the woodwork looking for Ed. What do they want with him? What does roulette have to do with supercomputers and doomsday cults? It's an adventure that will take Ed and Cathy to places they never knew existed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This December: Watch the chaos that follows the PRIME MOVER.&lt;/p&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:meankoontz:1470</id>
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    <title>QUEEN'S PAWN</title>
    <published>2008-08-21T03:50:42Z</published>
    <updated>2008-08-21T03:50:42Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;p&gt;Chief Researcher Paxton Billings is about to make a deal with the devil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Head of Veritech's Proprietary Division, Paxton has devoted the last five years of his life to one project. It was meant to be his reward for a stellar career that filled Veritech's coffers. But when a boardroom powerplay gives the reins of the company to the ruthless Agnes Delacroix, Paxton finds his funding in jeopardy. In order to keep his project from being scrapped, he'll have to turn it all over to the board so they can determine its profitability. The only problem is, his project doesn't want any part of that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Paxton stared at the graphics scrolling across his screen, feeling vaguely uneasy. He didn't like asking the machine for help, especially when its life was on the line. Suddenly the graphics zoomed out, and he realized he was looking at an image of the complex's electrical grid. Underneath appeared a message: "TELL THEM ABOUT ME, AND IT ALL BURNS."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meet NANCI. Her full name is Nondeterministic Asychronous Network of Cognition Instruments. She represents a quantum leap forward in artificial intelligence. She has countless failsafes and backups, and is inextricably tied to all of Veritech's systems. She also has some very definite ideas about her future, and isn't about to let anyone interfere.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Paxton buys time from the board with a daring bit of industrial espionage and the help of a Russian hacker known only as "The Jeweller," but as NANCI's demands escalate he finds himself working against all those he sought to protect. He is caught in a deadly game of double agent, and the stakes may be much higher than the lives of a few hundred employees. He'll need help, but he knows that even if he manages to evade NANCI's watchful eye he will ultimately face her alone. How can he outwit a machine that knows exactly how he thinks?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New this Thanksgiving: The endgame hinges on the QUEEN'S PAWN.&lt;/p&gt;</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:meankoontz:1077</id>
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    <title>PRAY FOR MORNING</title>
    <published>2008-08-19T00:22:36Z</published>
    <updated>2008-08-19T00:22:36Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;p&gt;Things have been changing at the Emerald Pines School for Young Gentlemen since Acting Dean Ellis Kincaid took over, and not for the better. Test scores are down, longstanding teachers have been fired, and worst of all, an unprecedented supply of drugs is making its way to the students. So when Guidance Counsellor Daniel Milbanks is faced with three boys complaining of waking nightmares he assumes it's just junk, even though his gut tells him different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His skepticism is eroded as the boys' nightmares worsen, repeating the same dire warnings over and over. Is it mass insanity? An out-of-control practical joke? Only when their bizarre predictions begin to come true does Daniel admit to a more supernatural explanation. Soon the boys (whom Daniel has begun to call The Three) are locked in a seer-like trance and must be kept hidden from the prying eyes of Acting Dean Kincaid and the rest of the faculty. Daniel works fervently to decode their dreams to prepare himself for The Night of Taking, the event The Three can't see beyond, but it seems like every answer leads to more questions. Then comes the morning when the remains of Darren Whitby are found strewn across the lacrosse field.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"This is it," thought Daniel, "it's really happening." He didn't see the chaos of people, or the blood. All he could see was Darren's head, hanging just as The Three had described it.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly Emerald Pines is in the grip of bedlam. Acting Dean Kincaid has put the school on lockdown and cut off all lines of communication. People are going missing and leaving only cryptic graffiti behind. The Three have fallen into unnatural comas, and out from the woods comes the focus of their nightmares: The Jack-of-all-Blades. The Night of Taking has begun. It is a night that will bring Daniel to the very edge of madness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Racing to solve a host of mysteries that seem more connected with every passing minute, Daniel Milbanks must put his life, and soul, on the line. What really happened to Dean Higgins? Where are the students disappearing to? What has taken hold of The Three? The answers to these and more draw him inexorably to a showdown against a living nightmare. The Three have told him only that it will all end in death, but can a nightmare truly die?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This September, shut your eyes tight and PRAY FOR MORNING.&lt;/p&gt;</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:meankoontz:780</id>
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    <title>NOBODY'S BUSINESS</title>
    <published>2008-08-15T04:21:49Z</published>
    <updated>2008-08-15T04:21:49Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;p&gt;Pemberton Corners is the kind of town people drive through without noticing. Just your typical Midwestern backwater, where the locals keep with themselves and thank everyone else to do the same. The sort of place where everyone knows each other's secrets, but are polite enough to keep the gossip decent. At Big Mary's diner they joke that the only thing that changes in Pemberton is the calendars and the only thing that stops there is the mail. That won't be true for much longer. Pemberton is about to have a very special visitor.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Darlin, I'm the last thing you're ever gonna see," he said, unfolding the blade in front of her eyes, his mouth twisting into a grin. "Ain't I a beaut?"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He calls himself Mr. Nobody. He gave up his real name the day he killed his foster family, and he's spent the last twenty years drowning his memories in blood. The FBI thinks he's fourteen men and two women. The newspapers think he's a wave of serial killers fed on countless TV forensic dramas. The zealots think he's the latest of God's wrath for our wicked world. But Mr. Nobody doesn't think he's anything special. That's why he's coming to Pemberton.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;There are fifty-seven people living in Pemberton, counting the Williams's newborn and Old Man Finney, who hasn't been seen for weeks but always turns up eventually. Fifty-seven stories all woven together, from Big Mary herself to Reverend Brown to that no-account Jimmy Deeds, but not one of them is like Mr. Nobody. At least, not yet.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"You kill as many people as I have, you learn an awful lot that most folks don't."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone in Pemberton is about to get a very unorthodox education. See, Mr. Nobody thinks there's a little of himself in everyone. Lately he's been wondering if he can't take someone and make that little something quite a bit bigger. It doesn't matter who. It might not even work. He doesn't care. All he&amp;nbsp;cares about is dragging someone&amp;nbsp;through Hell to see what comes out the other side.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming Halloween: What happens in Pemberton is NOBODY'S BUSINESS.&lt;/p&gt;</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:meankoontz:721</id>
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    <title>ALL YOUR TOMORROWS</title>
    <published>2008-08-13T04:16:53Z</published>
    <updated>2008-08-13T04:16:53Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;p&gt;David Chatham's life is on the right track.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He has a secure job at a growing San Diego tech company, a house with a mortgage he can afford, and things with his girlfriend Karen are moving smoothly towards serious. On the surface it seems like he should be perfectly happy, but part of him doesn't feel that way. Part of him likes to leave cryptic notes when David isn't looking. It also likes to hide things. Sometimes it hides his phone. Other times it hides his insulin. And when those things don't get David's attention, that part of him likes to leave him blacked out for days, waking up in a hospital with self-inflicted wounds.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Refusing to give in to insanity, David admits himself to a mental hospital and becomes a test subject for the powerful new antipsychotic drug Atraxaphine. For the first few weeks it looks like the treatment is a success. Then one night David wakes up to find himself holding a bloody pencil, looking down at a mutilated nurse wearing a scrawled note that reads "You should have listened." Before he can scream, his psychiatrist Dr. Leons appears and injects him with a powerful sedative. The next day David wakes up to find everything changed.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;HOW CAN YOU FIGHT WHEN YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT'S REAL?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dr. Leons is gone, apparently never having existed, and with him David's supply of Atraxaphine. The hospital has moved to Chicago, and David is awaiting trial as a sex offender. As the last of the drug stops working and David's hallucinations deepen, he is approached by the crooked research scientist Jarvis Denton with a proposition. David needs his freedom. Denton needs rampaging inmates as an excuse to test his new "chemical incarcerators." David agrees to help Denton stage a prison break. Denton's explosives free half the ward and kill the rest.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;That night is only the beginning of David's harrowing ordeal. Fighting the confusion of his Atraxaphine withdrawl, and followed at every turn by the mysterious Suitcase Man, David must evade Denton's goons long enough to solve the mystery of his fractured reality. The only thing keeping him going is the need to get back to San Diego, back to the one person he can trust. But will she be able to trust him?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This winter, ask yourself: How far would you go to reclaim ALL YOUR TOMORROWS?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;</content>
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