When Nick sipped and looked out at the ocean view, Gus prompted him. “Well… did he?”
“Oh yeah. Candelus exposed himself in the first couple, because the facts he tried to use in the novel never happened. I was watching for him, so I corrected him politely at each instance, making it obvious he had not read the novel. When he tried to respond, I ate his lunch. He then turned to the smarter ‘Book Killer’ routine of claiming unchallengeable clichés like this is trash, don’t waste your time.”
“How did you know it was him?”
Nick grinned over at his partner. “His ID was his assumed Islamic name of Mohammed Dafar, thinking people would rally to his hit pieces. He found out quickly my readers didn’t take kindly to his attacks. Dafar lost the troll war he started. He did poorly, because he didn’t understand what most authors know, troll armies are fickle. They can turn on one of their own brethren just for the hell of it, especially with an arrogant asshole like Dafar. A bunch of anonymous trolls launched on him. The comment replies turned personal and poisonous in a matter of hours. Dafar surrendered to the more talented trolls, because ego maniacs like him can dish it out, but they can’t take it. He was unable after that to comment under his Dafar tag. Trolls will google a name if they get an easy mark, and attack everything written by the target. I never forgot him though… ever. He still does the ‘Book Killer’ hit pieces, but he does them under a sock puppet army of different identities. He doesn’t get away with it, because I know all his IP addresses.”
“I’ve read articles on these Amazon ‘Book Killers’,” Gus said. “There are trolls doing those one star reviews who have no other function than popping in to kill a book’s sales, yet Amazon does nothing about it. You would think the loss in sales, and the media actually outing these ‘Book Killers’ as they have lately, would entice Amazon to clean house.”
Nick chuckled. “You may not know this, but Amazon has their own herd of imprint authors under a variety of names. I did a little study, and guess what authors don’t get hit with a plethora of ‘Book Killer’ reviews?”
Gus sat up, suddenly interested. “How many publishing imprints are we talking about?”
“Fourteen so far, in nearly all genres.”
“How the hell do they get away with that?”
“They’re the largest marketplace on earth,” Nick replied. “A couple of big time authors like Anne Rice have been fighting back, but it’s pretty much a lost cause. It is a rather ingenious extortion operation. I admit it was a bit depressing to see how many former independents signed under the many Amazon banners. I don’t have anything to bitch about, because I have a publishing house handling my novels. When you’re an independent, you can’t afford for a ‘Book Killer’ to single you out and destroy everything you’ve worked for.”
“It sure is easy to play philosopher clown prince while people without your traditional publishing cover try to eke out a living while enduring the ‘Book Killers’. Shame on you, Nick.”
“Wait until you read my new Diego novel.” Nick paused for effect. “Diego takes a contract on this jackass book killer who writes one star hit pieces in the hundreds without any interference from Amazon. The ‘Wild West Marketplace’ of course hides behind the First Amendment freedom of speech issue. That doesn’t work too well for the ‘Book Killer’. Diego receives orders to make him suffer. It’s quite graphic.”
“I’ll bet,” Gus replied. “Back to our mouthwatering discussion. How did Candelus survive French-frying your ass across the ocean – didn’t you smash him accidentally – you know, clip him with an elbow, or something?”
“I was on my way to an assignment. I couldn’t jeopardize it by pulling a stunt like that. And now… guess what? Princess Karma takes a hand. She doesn’t care about the self-importance of a traitorous moron.”
“And if the orders don’t pan out like you hope?”
Nick sighed, toasting Gus with his shot glass. “Accidents do happen, my friend.”
“Accidents, my ass.”
*
“This is so exciting, Dad!”
They were in the VIP lounge at JFK Airport after landing. Nick noticed Rachel was the only one with a frown on her face. “Tell your Mom she should be having a good time already too.”
“Yeah, Mom… what’s with you? Dad has VIP privileges, and you act like someone shot Deke in the head. We’re flying on a private jet, and Deke will be with us the whole road trip. A special concierge guy will be coming to escort us directly to our limo. How can you be so frumpy looking? Even Uncle Whiney is happy.”