THE PUPPET MASTER, prequel to THE AMENDMENT KILLER, coming to a bookstore near you on January 8, 2019. I’m proud to say. You heard it here first.
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If you’ve read THE AMENDMENT KILLER, then (hopefully!) you remember, Manny Reyes, White House Chief of Staff to President Roger Tuttle, then approaching the end of his first term as President of the United States. As THE AMENDMENT KILLER was drawing to a conclusion, Tuttle was getting ready to run for reelection for a second term. And Reyes was wondering if he could stand Tuttle for another term.
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As you’ll learn when you (again hopefully!) soon read THE PUPPET MASTER, which took place earlier in Tuttle’s first term, Tuttle was certainly no saint. But Reyes was no saint either. Here’s a taste of what was on Reyes’s mind as THE PUPPET MASTER was playing out.
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They call me Manny Reyes, White House Chief of Staff to President Roger Tuttle. No one just says Manny Reyes. It’s always Manny Reyes, White House Chief of Staff. To Roger Tuttle. My wagon is hitched to Tuttle. Like it or not.
Tuttle. What an ass that man is.
I warned him, didn’t I? Told him not to do it. Didn’t I? But would he listen to me?
Of course not. He just had to have his way. Didn’t he? Like he always does. Tuttle just had to micromanage our use of Tommy Thomas, spook to the stars, just like he micromanages everything.
And now he expects me to take the fall for him. Doesn’t he? Yeah. Right.
Nixon’s chief of staff, and other lieutenants, they took the fall for him regarding Watergate.
Why is the public so damn . . . naïve? Do people think their presidents are really such goody two shoes? So innocent?
And where did that get Nixon? Wasn’t very long ‘til Nixon went down the crapper. In spite of all those people who fell on their swords for him. When it was Nixon all along.
This wasn’t my idea. I’m not gonna say it was. All right, I was guilty. But of what? Guilty of being weak. Letting Tuttle force me to carry out his plan. It was not my plan.
Well, maybe I was also guilty of not realizing what a nut case Thomas was.
What a mess. I was on my way. I had it made. So close to the brass ring. Wall Street was there, in my sights. Just waiting for me to leave the White House. To come over to them.
And then . . . this. What the hell am I going to do now?
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