The iCandidate: Looking For Heroes - 2nd Installment
To begin with Installment 1, please click here.
The iCandidate is a unique interactive thriller about a political reality show to choose a potential President of the United States in which the reader has a key say in how the plot unfolds.
In The iCandidate, eight finalists from all walks of life face the kind of challenges they might have to deal with in the Oval Office:
• Will they use the nuclear button?
• What will they do about ISIS?
• How will they cope in a crisis?
At the end of each round the reader gets to cast an iVote to help determine who stays and who goes home. It is democracy in its purest form, free from party loyalties, donor obligations and antiquated electoral practices.
In the novel, serialized weekly on NoteStream, the eventual people’s champion goes on to challenge the political establishment in an iCampaign for the presidency climaxing in an explosive finale in Washington on November 8.
But The iCandidate has even greater aspirations to trigger a revolution in the way America selects the most powerful man or woman on the planet.
Change America one iVote at a time by choosing your iCandidate.
Join the NoteStream Book Club iCandidate: Looking For Heroes – Election 2016 and cast your in-app iVote to save your favorite iCandidates!
Watch out for the release of a second unique contemporary novel - DIVAS by Bill Wagner - this Spring.
"So goooooood" 5 stars by Savannah
NoteStreams are readable online but they’re even better in the free App!
The NoteStream™ app is for learning about things that interest you: from music to history, to classic literature or cocktails. NoteStreams are truly easy to read on your smartphone—so you can learn more about the world around you and start a fresh conversation.
For a list of all authors on NoteStream, click here.
Read the NoteStream below, or download the app and read it on the go!
Chapter 1 – Game On: 2015
Staring down at his feet, Desmond James felt the world slow down as he blocked out everything but the tiny ball and the hands carefully linked by the pinky of his right hand and the index finger of his left.
Eye on the ball, he thought. Just keep your eyes on the ball.
The back lift was strong and sure, the product of countless lessons. Desmond could see the downswing in his mind’s eye. Hips shifted forwards, head resolutely down, the club slicing through the dampness of the morning.
Perfect shot, as always, Desmond tried not to look too smug.
Stroke Of Luck
David Mason was next.
Sighing, he half closed his eyes as he silently wished for just one stroke of luck. The ugly thump as the club face cut into the turf, the spray of mud and grass and the familiar lurch of the stomach as the ball skewed off the fairway and hopped into the trees.
“Godammit! I hate this game.”
Leaning on their bags a few feet away, Andy Kristoff and Desmond, didn’t try and hide their amusement. Already on the green and waiting for her friends to catch up, Jacqueline Toscane made a great show of looking at her watch.
“How long have we been at this, Mase?
We’ve been playing together since college and you still can’t hit the stupid ball.”
Kristoff checked his phone for the umpteenth time. “Some of us have to get back to work sometime this week.” He flashed his lazy smile, which really meant he could do whatever he pleased, as no-one at the studio would ever question him.
“Lucky for you.” Mason tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice as he waded into the undergrowth. He’d just been fired from his columnist job on a newspaper that was now an online site.
Nowhere To Go
“I’m in no hurry. Got nowhere to go.”
Mase took his time looking for his ball.
“Well you certainly need the practice,” Des shot back with a grin.
They all went quiet as Kristoff smoothly struck his ball onto the green and joined Mason and Desmond’s fruitless search in the bushes.
“I think it went out of bounds.” Desmond pointed to the fence guarding a footpath down towards the Pacific Ocean.
Mason shook his head in frustration. "It’s not like we’re doing the kind of work we dreamed about in school. Remember, I was gonna be a fearless globe-trotting war correspondent.”
Lost To Found
Kristoff found Mason’s ball a few inches over the wrong side of the boundary. “I’m doing what I always wanted.” He settled his shades back over his eyes.
“Yeah right.” Mason snorted. “Posing around on a talent show with a bunch of kid acrobats and 12-year-old opera singers? Give me a break.”
Kristoff was unfazed.
“I think you’ll find it was the most watched show on television.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t successful. The amount of money you’re raking in is obscene. But you were going to make documentaries about things that matter. Be the next Ken Burns if you recall.”
Mason dropped a ball and clouted it in the right direction for a change and headed to meet Jacqueline by the next hole at the edge of a bunker. With the sweetest of touches Desmond lofted it over the hump and within a few inches of the hole.
“Will you boys stop chatting and play?
I’m getting old standing around waiting for you to catch up.” In tight black pants, cream sleeveless polo shirt and giant sunglasses pushed up over her tight ponytail, Jacqueline looked like a blonde Jackie O.
She stroked in her putt for a birdie. “I can’t believe I’ll be taking all your money again. Aren’t you a little embarrassed for your gender? Three hulking men beaten again by a mere girl.”
“You should be better than Tiger Woods with the amount of time you spend on a golf course,” Kristoff joked. “You’re never in the office.”
“That’s why law firms have associates and interns.
To make money for the partners,” Jacqueline checked her lips in her compact before delivering her signature cooler-than-the-rest-of-you-schmucks smile.
“There you go.” Mason pressed his point. He was wearing a crumpled white shirt hung over an ill-fitting pair of black pants. “Jacqueline sold out too.”
Kristoff just laughed. “She’s one of the top attorneys in the country. Hey Des, how much are your tech shares worth now?”
It always amused Kristoff how easy it was to get under Mason’s skin.
Des glanced at Mason. “Can’t complain. Actually I heard this course was up for sale, I’m thinking of buying it. You’re looking a little red in the face Mase, you should put some sunscreen on.”
Kristoff gave Mason a good-natured shove.
“In fact, from where I’m standing Mase, we’re all doing great…except you. A touch bitter are we?”
But Mason was still on a roll. “Yeah, well maybe I am. But remember at college? All those nights Jackie would give us a hard time saying how she was going to be this hero pro bono lawyer, helping the downtrodden.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Jacqueline didn’t look happy.
Desmond grinned. “Mase thinks we’re all big disappointments who haven’t lived up to our potential.”
“Oh poor, sad little David is stuck in one of his pity fests again is he?” Jacqueline joined in.
“Would you like me to read you your favorite bedtime story tonight hun?”
“Shut up Jacks. I’m serious. We had dreams!”
There was a wait at the next hole and an elderly man in a canary yellow sweater was looking daggers at them for talking.
“What’s your next big idea Kris?” Mason whispered. “A dating show for midgets? Oh wait, that’s already been done.”
At some point either Desmond or Jacqueline usually had to step in and keep Mason and Kristoff apart.
“Lay off, Mase. You’ll get us kicked off the course,” Desmond said.
Mason shrugged. “They’re hardly going to ask the great Andy Kristoff to leave, are they? They don’t want to end up in the tabloids.”
Kristoff turned to Mason and surprised him by putting an arm around his shoulders.
“Chill out my friend. Maybe I’ve got something different up my sleeve.”
Mason shook himself free. “The last time you said something like that at college we ended up in jail for the night.”
“I’m serious,” said Kristoff. “You can come work for me. In fact, I’d like all of you to.”
The canary sweater group was already half way down the fairway but Jacqueline, who was supposed to tee-off first, made no attempt to place her ball.
“You’re not serious?”
“Deadly serious,” Kristoff held her stare.
Not The Money
”We don’t want your money, Kris. We’re all doing quite nicely thank you.”
Mason resisted the temptation to object. Being a journalist wasn’t in the same pay grade as a lawyer. He had to pay them to write. Some extra cash would be nice.
“It’s not about money.” Kristoff pointed to the tee and gestured to Jacqueline to get on with it.
“See what I mean? Kris loves to boss everyone around.”
“Okay, okay. Well I suppose that’s true but it’s still not about money.”
“So what is it all about then?” Mason really wanted it to be about the money.
A light seemed to turn on above Desmond and he grabbed Kristoff’s arm.
“Do you mean my idea I told you about?”
“Might be.” Kristoff looked sheepish. “Well the last crazy idea I worked on ended up being the most watched show in the world.” With that, Kristoff hopped up to the elevated lawn as if to make an announcement to the gaggle of golfers waiting impatiently for them to play.
“I’m going to give Des what he really wants. And you, Mase. And yes, even you, Jacqueline.”
“And what’s that?” Jacqueline wasn’t impressed.
Kristoff paused like he was waiting for a commercial break.
“Will you please just tell them and stop holding everyone up.” The voice came from the group behind.
“We’re going to change the world,” said Kristoff.
“Oh yeah! HOW?” Mason secretly crossed his fingers.
“We’re gonna find the next President of the United States.”