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The big news at the offices of was the completion of the cover for THE GOOD COP, Brad's next Carter Ross Thriller.

The interns gathered 'round ye olde computer screen to have a look:

The Good Cop

"I love it," declared Sarah, the smart intern. "The shading of the face speaks to the depersonalization of our law enforcement officials, almost like by accepting the awesome responsibility of their job, they, in effect, become less human. And yet the uniform itself is suggestive of the Uebermensch, the heroic 'superman' ideal to which Nietzsche said humanity should aspire."

"Yeah, it's also sort of like the cop in the Village People, only scarier," said Maggie, the clueless intern.

"Is it lunchtime yet?" asked Peter, the slothful intern.

Yes, everyone had weighed in—except Zach, the silly intern. He had taken out a ruler and was measuring something on the screen.

"Terrible, terrible," he mumbled to himself. "A catastrophe. I've seen postage stamps with bigger fonts."

"What?" Sarah asked.

"Brad's name," Zach said. "It's smaller than the last two books. Unacceptable."

"No it's—"

"12,700 microns," Zach said.

"Excuse me?"

"The 'B' in Brad. It's 12,700 microns tall."

"Microns?" Sarah said.

"Yes. It's a metric unit of length equal to one millionth of a meter."

"I know what a micron is, but—"

"It allows for more precise measurement," Zach said. "In FACES OF THE GONE, the 'B' was only 5,588 microns. But that was okay, because it's his first novel, you know? When EYES OF THE INNOCENT came out, he had won two nice awards, and, bang, 16,002 microns, nearly three times bigger. Next came THE GIRL NEXT DOOR and it was 16,764 microns, which was a little disappointing, but, hey, flat is the new normal, right? We could be happy with a small increase."

"But this," he said, holding the magnifying glass to it, "this is completely wrong. We've lost 4,064 microns. At this rate of font size diminishment, he'll be down to 4,572 microns by 2016. By 2017 his name won't even appear on the books anymore. It'll be like the polar ice caps: wasted away by our tragic indifference, perhaps forever."

"Don't you think maybe you're, I don't know, overreacting?" Sarah asked.

Zach waved off what he considered to be a patent absurdity. "The guy's name is only nine letters long," Zach said. "The whole reason I went to work for him in the first place is that he had one of those short, easily stacked author names that you could blow up super-huge on a cover. You know, like Brad Thor."

Brad Thor's Black List

"One, that cover is ridiculous," Sarah said. "And, two, you're seriously going to compare our Brad to a No. 1 New York Times bestselling author?"

"Our Brad's name is one little letter longer. There's no reason why his name shouldn't be very nearly as big and ugly as Thor's."

Zach pointed to the cover on the screen and announced, "I'm taking this thing back to the drawing board."

The interns haven't seen Zach since. And maybe that's a good thing.

Meanwhile, the countdown to March 5THE GOOD COP release day—continues. The reviews are starting to roll in and the Khaki is the New Black Tour is rapidly taking shape. Expect details to hit your inbox soon.

In other news, THE GIRL NEXT DOOR, one of Kirkus Reviews' Top 100 books of 2012, is now available in paperback. It's great for all those who like books that fold—and author names that come in at 16,764 microns.

Measurably Yours,
The Interns

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