About the book:
Charlotte
Prentice literally has everything: beauty, intellect, wealth. She is
also very dangerous. Driven dispassionately to success, the reader
must decide Charlotte's guilt or innocence. After reading The
Narcissist: A Dark Journey,
what will be your verdict in the case of Charlotte
Prentice?Genre: Psychological Thriller,
Suspense Pages: 255 Release Date: July 19,
2016 Blog Tour Date: 19 - 26 July 2016 Post
Review: any time In The
Narcissist: A Dark Journey,
Charlotte Prentice is beautiful, intellectual and dangerous. She will
do whatever it takes to achieve the adoration and success she
desires. Who is this woman whose beauty is only overshadowed by her
intellect? Charlotte herself doesn't know. Outwardly, she is a woman
who fights against discrimination and poverty, an advocate of
education and freedom. To the onlooker, Charlotte is perfection. But
on the inside, there is something darker lurking, something that
pushes her single-minded plans forward without empathy. She and her
ilk are the scourge of our society, driven to success to satisfy
their needs at any cost. They are the business leaders and
politicians who woo us with deceit and shallow promises. Sometimes we
are amused by them. Other times we are stricken by them. But make no
mistake: they are not amusing; they are calculating and dangerous. Is
she guilty of her crimes, or the victim of the ills of society?
In The
Narcissist: A Dark Journey,
the reader is both judge and jury where Charlotte Prentice is
concerned. Buy The
Narcissist: A Dark Journey on Amazon, Kindle, iBooks,
and KoboBooks.
Author Bio:
Graduated
from Valley College, attended Cal State Northridge University, and
the masters program at Pepperdine University, Jon Zimmer began a
career in business, running several divisions of large corporations,
and started up two companies. The
Narcissist: A Dark Journey is
his fifth novel. His other titles include: The
Trinity Pact, The
Cozy Place, Generations-Birth
of an American Aristocracy, The
Secret Invasion Book One of the God Chronicles,
and The
Dark Journey of Charlotte Prentice.
Learn
more about Jon D. Zimmer and his books at:
| Blog | Facebook
Author Page | Twitter | Goodreads | LinkedIn |
Excerpt from The Narcissist: A Dark Journey
Chapter
One Charlotte
Prentice's conscious life began when she was four years old. Though
she had glimpses of memories before that, this was the first time
she'd experienced real tragedy in her short life. This wasn't one of
those childhood traumas where things just didn't turn out the way
she'd wanted. No, this was a tragedy of grandiose proportions for a
four old, a tragedy that she was, incredibly, able to plan, and
execute all on her own. It was a portend of things to come for
Charlotte Prentice. It all started when she began kindergarten. Her
mother, Rachel, had walked with her the two blocks to school. After a
week of walking together, Rachel asked Charlotte if she would like to
walk to school by herself. Charlotte was beside herself, she loved
the idea. Charlotte hadn't noticed the dog until after her mother had
left her completely by herself. One day, seemingly from out of
nowhere, it appeared. It was a large, mongrel dog, with a big head,
and short, brown hair, just standing there in the driveway. For some
unknown reason, Charlotte stopped and stared at it. At first it
looked causally looked back at her, then its ears perked up, it
barked a little, and began to move in her direction, slowly at first,
but with a quickening pace, until it seemed to Charlotte that it was
charging at her. Charlotte was so filled with fear she couldn't move.
Her mind raged as the dog grew even closer. She stood there, her mind
full of images of being savagely mauled, of actually being eaten by
this dog. She the few remaining yards to school, faster than she had
ever ran before. Once inside the gate she stopped and quickly turned
to see if the dog was still chasing her. It wasn't. It was gone,
nowhere in sight. She felt safe, and her panic and fear were gone, at
least for a little while. All day in class she thought about the dog,
fixating on the dreaded walk home. Charlotte didn't tell anyone about
what had happened, not wanting her classmates to know she was afraid
of dogs. She had seen others being teased and tormented about similar
things, and she didn't want to be the object of taunts or ridicule
from her classmates, which to Charlotte was more fearful to her than
the dog. After school, she stayed behind the gate, looking for him.
Though he was nowhere to be seen, the thought of having to leave the
safety of the schoolyard was just too frightening. She waited as long
as she could, until she was one of the last students left, when she
finally found the courage to set out on her short walk home.
Charlotte got about ten or fifteen yards before panic set in. She
imagined that dog jumping out of every driveway she was about to
pass, and she ran as if chased by demons. When she finally arrived
home, she felt the need to be safe for the second time that day, but
then her thoughts turned to tomorrow, and even in the sanctuary of
her own home, the fear returned. She didn't go directly to the
kitchen when she got home like she usually did. Instead, she went to
her bedroom, and laid down on the bed. It felt good to be in her
room. At the moment it was the one place where she felt secure. Her
mom came into the bedroom and asked, "Are you all right?"
She didn't speak for a second, feeling ashamed about being afraid of
a dog, "I'm fine," she finally told her. "Just
resting." Her father came home a couple of hours later, and the
rest of the evening was normal. Her mother read her a story, they all
watched television, and she went to bed. Charlotte slept well, and by
morning she had completely forgotten about The Beast, as she now
thought of it. She had breakfast and left for school. The dog
returned to her thoughts the moment she stepped onto the sidewalk.
She walked toward school, cautious to look all around her as she
went. Even though there was no dog in sight, she picked up the pace a
little. That was when she noticed it. There, standing in the
driveway, glaring at her as she walked by. It moved toward her,
slowly at first, then a little quicker. Her mind screamed in fear,
and she broke into a run, not daring to look back until she'd once
more reached the safety of the school yard. It was then Charlotte
turned around to look for him as she had the day before, but she saw
nothing. It had gone, just like last time. It was almost as if she
had been selected as the object of an apparition's haunting. The same
scenario played out on the way home as it had the day before.
Upon arriving home she once more went directly to her bedroom. She
laid down on her bed, and knew she had to do something. She couldn't
just go through this every day of her life, her frightened and
over-stimulated mind imagining she would ultimately be eaten by the
beast. Nor did she not want to put her fear on display for everyone
to see, so they'd think of her as a coward, or even worse, not
normal, and be forced to experience her worst fear—having to suffer
the brunt of her peers' ridicule. Charlotte resolved that this was
her problem, and it had to be solved by her. It was Friday, and she
had the weekend to develop a plan that would hopefully end her
nightmare. She anguished over the various ways she could get rid of
the dog. Maybe she could scare it by throwing rocks at it. Maybe she
could find a large stick to hit it with when it came close. No matter
what ideas she came up with, she discarded them out of the fear that
none of them would work, and she was sure to be eaten. It never
entered her mind to go to her mother for help, tell her that a large
dog was chasing after her on the walk to school each morning, and
that she was concerned the dog might bite her, or worse. If she had
asked for help, it might have been the end of it. She never would
have been exposed as a coward, or branded abnormal as she feared, her
mother would have contacted the owner, and the dog would have been
locked in its backyard. That this never entered her mind was because
as far as Charlotte was concerned, there was only one way to solve
her problem, and that was Charlotte's Way. Even at this very early
age she resolved to solve this problem, regardless if it ended
tragically. As long as it ended with no consequences for her, the
fallout wasn't her concern. The only solution she could imagine at
this point was to kill the dog. But how might she go about that? She
had no knowledge of death, or how to kill anything, other than maybe
a bug. Her mind was at a standstill, and she resigned herself to
perpetual torment by The Beast. That Saturday morning, she was
overwhelmed by a helplessness due to the inadequacies she felt at
being unable to resolve her problem. She tried to forget everything
associated with The Beast. To help, she asked her mother to turn on
the television after breakfast so she could see her cartoons. After
watching for a few minutes, she saw the solution to her problem,
right there in front of her. In the cartoons, everybody and
everything was injuring or killing each other. She watched intently,
looking for something she might employ to kill that dog. All the
characters were slapping or hitting or chasing; cars slammed into all
sorts of things. She saw nothing she felt capable of doing, but
continued to watch anyway, hoping to find something she might
ultimately use. Finally she was rewarded. One of the cartoons
had a car chase, the climax of which depicted the car hitting a group
of people who went flying like bowling pins just hit by the ball.
That’s it, she thought. Getting the dog hit by a car was the
answer. This would solve two problems for her as she would not be
directly involved, and the dog would be gone. The question now was,
how might she get a car to hit it? Then it came to her: she would
have to do the one thing her mother told her never to do under any
circumstance—cross the street. Disobeying her mother this one time
would be worth the risk, if it got rid of The Beast. Her plan was
simple. On the way to school in the morning she would cross the
street a couple of homes before the driveway where the dog lived.
There were always parked cars on the other side of the street that
she could hide behind. Then, when a car approached, she would jump
out from between two of the parked cars and taunt the dog with the
hope it would charge after her as it had every day it saw her, and
then one of the cars would hit it as The Beast crossed the
street to eat her. She left for school on Monday morning with a
purpose. Charlotte never considered what she was about to do was
wrong--how could it be when it was either her, or The Beast?
Everything went according to plan. Charlotte crossed the street, and
positioned herself behind a car where she had visibility of the
street in both directions. That was when she saw it, The Beast, lying
in the driveway directly across the street from where she was hiding,
waiting for her, waiting to pounce. Charlotte calmly waited. At last,
she saw her opportunity—two cars were coming toward her, one on
each side of the street, approaching in opposite directions. This was
it, she thought. She was sure she could get one of them to hit The
Beast. Charlotte moved out from between the two cars so she'd be
visible to the dog. Its ears perked up when it saw her. It rose and
started walking toward her, but when it got to the street, it stopped
without crossing. The approaching cars were getting closer. Charlotte
had to do something to lure it into the street, and fast, so she
started gyrating and making subdued noises—it wouldn't do if her
plan were discovered because she was heard or seen. It worked. The
dog darted into the street just as both cars crossed in front of her.
Her vision was momentarily obscured, but she heard a thud, followed
by a loud yelp, and she knew The Beast had been struck by one of the
cars. The driver of the car stopped his vehicle about twenty feet in
front of Charlotte. The dog had been thrown about five feet in front
of his car, and lay there on its side, whimpering in the street, then
he fell silent. The owner of the dog, a young woman, came running out
of her house, and rushed to the now motionless figure in the street.
She lay down next to her dog and wept. The driver picked the dog up
and put it in his car. The lady got into the car with him, and they
sped away. Charlotte couldn't hear what they were saying, nor had she
any idea where they were going. She left the scene immediately, so no
one would know she was there. It took her no more than three or four
minutes to get to school from where the accident had taken place. No
one at school was aware of what had transpired, except, of course,
Charlotte, and she liked that. The rest of the school day was one of
her most pleasant. She no longer spent the day dreading the walk
home. She had smote The Mighty Beast. It was gone, and so were her
agony and her fear. She got home that afternoon still feeling a sense
of happiness and accomplishment. Her plan had worked perfectly. She
was enjoying her newly acquired sense of security and pride when she
overheard her parents talking about Mrs. Williams' dog being hit by a
car. Her mother said, "Poor Mrs. Williams. She loved that dog.
It was her husband's, and after he died in Korea the dog helped to
fill some of the void in her life. It was like he'd left a part of
himself behind. I don't know what she'll do now." Jeffery was
silent as he listened to his wife. His eyes watered slightly—rather
than the war hardening him, it had done just the opposite, making him
a more sensitive person. He spoke softly. "Can you think of
anything we can do to help her?" She shook her head. "All
we can do is just pray the dog survives. I heard from Joan, her next
door neighbor, that he's in critical condition at the
veterinarian's." Charlotte couldn't believe her ears—The Beast
still lived! Another revelation was that her parents knew the owner
of the dog. After hearing Mrs. Williams' tragic story, she began to
feel sorry for the woman, a woman for whom she had just caused so
much suffering. Charlotte felt conflicted. She wanted the dog dead,
but she didn't want Mrs. Williams to suffer. There was nothing she
could do about the situation, but if worse came to worse, her fear
overrode Mrs. Williams' grief, and she much preferred the death of
the dog. Two nights later she again overheard her parents talking
about Mrs. Williams and her dog. "I talked to Joan today,"
her mom said, "and she told me the dog was going to live, but
that he would be crippled. He will be able to walk, but not to run."
"That’s great!" her dad said. "The important thing
is that Mrs. Williams will get her dog back." Charlotte thought
about what she'd just heard, and the fear began to creep back in, but
the more she thought about it, the more she realized this was the
best of both worlds—Mrs. Williams would get her dog back and he
wouldn't be able to ever chase her again. Charlotte was now even more
pleased with the outcome of her plan than she was before. The next
morning, Charlotte walked to school, confident that The Beast no
longer posed a threat to her, but as was her nature, she had to see
it before she would believe it. After all, she'd only heard about the
dog being crippled from her parents' conversation, and that wasn't
enough to make it real for her. Charlotte
planned to test the ability of the beast by tempting it to chase her.
As she approached the once dreaded driveway, she still experienced a
little fear, but it wasn't enough to stop her from needing to see the
damaged, living thing. When she got close enough to the property she
saw it there, lying on its side, next to the side door of the house.
Mrs. Williams sat beside it, softly stroking its fur, cooing to it,
"How does my precious feel today? You'll be much better soon.
I'll be here…" Her voice tailed off when she saw Charlotte
standing in front of the driveway, watching her. Mrs. Williams
smiled, and asked how she was. Charlotte, still a little concerned
about The Beast's physical status, replied, "I'm fine. I heard
about your dog being hit by a car. Is he okay?" Mrs. Williams
said, "Roger is doing fine. He just won't be able to do the
things he used to, but he can walk well enough to get around. The
main thing is he has no more pain." "I'm so glad he's all
right," a very joyous Charlotte said. "I have to get to
school now, but I really am happy he can get around a little bit."
Charlotte said goodbye, turned away, and left for school. Her world
was hers again, unencumbered by anything that might give her
displeasure. She had solved the problem herself, she didn't need
anyone's help, and she'd orchestrated the best possible outcome: The
Beast could no longer catch and eat her, and Mrs. Williams still had
Roger. Charlotte was overwhelmed with a sense of joy and pride, as
she had made this happen all by herself. At this point in her life,
Charlotte felt no remorse for taking whatever action was necessary to
lead to her pleasure, or resolved a problem that was annoying her.
More importantly, her peer image had remained pristine.
Guest Post:
Why I Write
by Jon D. Zimmer, author of The Narcissist: A Dark Journey
When
I started college I majored in English. I wanted to be a writer. I
had written several short stories when I was eighteen, and felt like
I was about to join the hallowed halls of Shakespeare and Hemingway,
but reality seems to have a way of trumping fantasy. I got married,
changed my major to business, and had a successful career. However, I
didn't like the cold world of profits at all cost, particularly the
human cost. As soon as I was able I retired, left that dispassionate
world, and began to write. To me, writing was a pathway of
expression, of sharing the ideas and emotions that we all feel, of
creating characters and events that the reader can relate to. And I
didn't limit myself to any particular genre. I wrote The
Trinity Pact,
a spiritual book; The
Cozy Place,
a murder mystery; An
American Dynasty,
historical; The
Secret Invasion: Book One of the God Chronicles,
a fantasy; and my latest novel, The
Narcissist: A Dark Journey,
a psychological thriller. Though they were different genres, I was
able to express the human condition at its best, and at its worst.
In The
Cozy Place,
a consuming love begets a serial killer, exemplifying love at its
worst, however, we all sometimes show our love in a less than a
loving way. We abuse, physically and psychologically, we deceive, and
we lie to those we love, and when we do it, we wish we hadn't, as
sometimes it takes more than a lifetime to make it up. In An
American Dynasty I
took an American family through four generations of American history
to depict the absolute role that politics and wealth plays in the
lives that we lead. Throughout history, wealth has been able to
control, and in many instances, enslave populations. It could happen
here and now, to us. I love politics. My latest novel, The
Narcissist: A Dark Journey,
is a psychological trip through the psyche of one Charlotte Prentice.
She literally has everything: beauty, intellect, wealth--and yet she
is a very dangerous person. She is someone we all know, or know of,
and in ourselves. She and her ilk are dispassionately driven to
success, and are our scourge, but in this novel I have left any
judgement of guilt up to the reader. How would you judge Charlotte? I
am almost finished with Book
Two of the God Chronicles,
a fantasy in the event humankind continues after this life. In this
new life, I have tried to remove all of the reasons for our really
bad, nasty habits. There is no requirement for sustenance, there is
no celebrity, no gender, no sickness, but I am really challenged,
even with all of those things that cause us to do naughty, bad
things, to eliminate the nature of humanity. But I think I have.
That's the beauty of writing.
Author Interview:
When
did you first realize you wanted to be a writer? I
have no specific age or date when I thought about being a writer. I
know that all through my school years my favorite subjects were
English and Science. When I started college I had written several
short stories. I considered being a writer at that time, however
marriage and economics made my decision to postpone writing for a
while. How
long does it take you to write a book? There
are several factors that determine the amount of time it takes me
write a book. First is the amount of research that is required for
the novel. After that there is the passion I have for the project,
availability of my time, and does my plot have many twists. It could
take five months, up to ten months. What
is your work schedule when you're writing?
Again, an answer that involves several factors. My passion for the
work is foremost. In this case, I will begin writing after going out
for breakfast, and reading the daily newspaper. I Return home about
ten o'clock in the morning, and write until five o'clock in the
evening. I don't tend to write at night, because it keeps me from
sleeping. What
would you say is your interesting writing quirk? I
think one is in my last answer. I need to go out to eat breakfast,
and catch up on the news before starting to write. As to writing
itself, I try to avoid foul language.How
do books get published? It
has to be an excellent book, however that is far from being the sole
criteria, as many good manuscripts are rejected by publishers.
Research the publishers, so you send it to the correct one for your
genre. You need an excellent query letter to grab a publisher.
Perseverance is important, too. Keep sending it out, and if
everything fails, you might consider self publishing, but this is a
major choice that more than likely will cost you a lot of money, and
is rarely successful. Where
do you get your ideas or information for your books? Ideas
for books pop into my head all the time. I will never write all of
the books that I would like. Social issues and the emotions
surrounding them are the main source of my ideas. When
did you write your first book and how old were you? I
wrote some short stories when I was eighteen, and a book when I was
in my thirties, which I never did anything with. The first novel that
I submitted, and was published was in my fifties. I truly wish I had
pursued my dream to write as a youth. What
does your family think of your writing? They
love it, and are very supportive. What
do you like to do when you're not writing? I
have a passion for horse racing and politics. My father owned race
horses when I was growing up, and I also developed an ardor for them.
I go, sometimes, on weekends to the local tracks. Politics fascinates
me. There is so much misery in our society, and I see an ignorant
electorate perpetuating their condition by voting against their best
interests, over and over. I write some political essays that are
posted on LinkedIn, and my social media.What
was one of the most surprising things you learned in creating your
books? Getting
into people's heads. Expressing emotions that the reader can feel and
relate to is what writing is about. How many books have you written
and which is your favorite? I have written six novels, and the one I
just finished, The
Narcissist: A Dark Journey, is
my favorite to date. However, the novel, Tranquility:
Book Two of the God Chronicles that
I am currently writing is going to be my new favorite. It is a
fantasy about an afterlife, if there is one, that is believable. Do
you have any suggestions to help people become better writers. If so,
what are they? That’s
a very hard question. I could give one of the standard answers and
say, just believe in yourself, and that is true, but far from a
success story. You need to be able to tell a tale that will satisfy
your reader, both emotionally and time well spent. Do
you hear from your readers much? What do they say? You
mostly hear from friends and relatives about your books, and they are
usually favorable, as expected. However, reviewers are a little more
honest. Sometimes they grasp your theme, and other times they don't.
It's up to you to determine true criticism. Do
you like to create books for adults? I
do like to create books for adults. I have never written a children's
book, but have used children and their emotions in my books. What
do you think makes a good story? There
are so many things that make a good story, regardless of genre. But
the basic thing is that the reader becomes involved, even if he/she
doesn't share the emotions, or theme, they come away with an
understanding of them, and when they're finished, they feel good
about the experience. As
a child, what did you want to do when you grew up? I
was athletic as a child, and I wanted to be a football player, then I
changed to wanting to be a scientist, but never a writer, not until I
was eighteen.
