I'm Terry Morgan and TJM Books is my self-publishing platform.
I started writing stories and poetry while traveling with my own exporting business.
Having visited well over seventy countries - some so many times I lost count - I now try, whenever possible, to give hotels and airports a miss and live with my Thai wife, Yung, in the quietness of rural Petchabun, Thailand.
We still return home to Gloucestershire and the Cotswolds valleys in the UK occasionally, but all that lonely business travel - to Africa, the Middle East, the Far East, across Europe and America - did give me something quite special. Many of my memories and personal experiences find themselves - together with a lot of imagination - in what I now write about. So, it's mostly international and covers business, politics, terrorism, crime and espionage plus a bit of science thrown in because I'm still a biologist in my heart. Mostly it's serious but sometimes satirical and I especially try to write enjoyable reading for that largely under-catered for part of the population - mature men.
And you'll get your money's worth because most of my books are well above average in length and the e-versions are mostly free. Why free? For an explanation see below.
Links to e versions of all of my books can be found at:
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/search?query=Terry+Morgan
Free eBooks: https://www.free-ebooks.net/search/Terry+Morgan
Amazon Kindle: https://www.amazon.co.uk/s?k=Terry+Morgan&i=digital-text&ref=nb_sb_noss
I started writing stories and poetry while traveling with my own exporting business.
Having visited well over seventy countries - some so many times I lost count - I now try, whenever possible, to give hotels and airports a miss and live with my Thai wife, Yung, in the quietness of rural Petchabun, Thailand.
We still return home to Gloucestershire and the Cotswolds valleys in the UK occasionally, but all that lonely business travel - to Africa, the Middle East, the Far East, across Europe and America - did give me something quite special. Many of my memories and personal experiences find themselves - together with a lot of imagination - in what I now write about. So, it's mostly international and covers business, politics, terrorism, crime and espionage plus a bit of science thrown in because I'm still a biologist in my heart. Mostly it's serious but sometimes satirical and I especially try to write enjoyable reading for that largely under-catered for part of the population - mature men.
And you'll get your money's worth because most of my books are well above average in length and the e-versions are mostly free. Why free? For an explanation see below.
Links to e versions of all of my books can be found at:
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/search?query=Terry+Morgan
Free eBooks: https://www.free-ebooks.net/search/Terry+Morgan
Amazon Kindle: https://www.amazon.co.uk/s?k=Terry+Morgan&i=digital-text&ref=nb_sb_noss
CURRENT WRITING PROJECTS:
I've always run two, three or even four writing projects together - putting aside one to focus on another for a while, then reverting. Here are two of my current ones.
I've always run two, three or even four writing projects together - putting aside one to focus on another for a while, then reverting. Here are two of my current ones.
"Mosquito"
The fifth in the "Asher & Asher" series
An ex United Nations Biological Weapons Inspector comes out of forced retirement to pursue a suspicion of a secret project that would enable genetically modified flies to carry deadly viruses. But can he prove his suspicions before becoming a target for state or private security forces? And is there more to it than flying insects?
That was the original idea of this story and it's still the main theme - politicians and government-led security forces are not unknown to have dealt with UN weapons inspectors if they step out of line against their wishes!
In July (2020) I put this story aside for a while to focus on "Bad Boys" and to watch emerging technology as it was moving rapidly in the direction of where this story was heading, I'll be back on it again soon with a few changes including some of the main characters. In comes a quiet young American engineer called Carlos Garcia with a hidden flair for criminal investigation. Not quite knowing where stories will go when I start out has been the hallmark of eerything I've so far written!
The fifth in the "Asher & Asher" series
An ex United Nations Biological Weapons Inspector comes out of forced retirement to pursue a suspicion of a secret project that would enable genetically modified flies to carry deadly viruses. But can he prove his suspicions before becoming a target for state or private security forces? And is there more to it than flying insects?
That was the original idea of this story and it's still the main theme - politicians and government-led security forces are not unknown to have dealt with UN weapons inspectors if they step out of line against their wishes!
In July (2020) I put this story aside for a while to focus on "Bad Boys" and to watch emerging technology as it was moving rapidly in the direction of where this story was heading, I'll be back on it again soon with a few changes including some of the main characters. In comes a quiet young American engineer called Carlos Garcia with a hidden flair for criminal investigation. Not quite knowing where stories will go when I start out has been the hallmark of eerything I've so far written!
"Death of a Skip Chaser"
(DRAFT COVER)
It was Harry’s suggestion we met in Cyprus.
“Mutual benefit, Mitch,” he’d said on the phone. “Tell you later. Just be there, OK?”
Meeting Harry Branagan meant he had business to discuss but sudden instructions from an equal, even a friendly one, should never be taken without at least a hint of objection.
“Give me an inkling?” I replied.
“Inkling?” Harry said in his New York manner. “What the hell’s an inkling?”
“A hint,” I said, “A vague idea why I should drop everything at your behest?”
“Behest?” he said as if I,in my English way, was being awkward by using words he'd never before found a use for. “You told me you were in Athens so I checked a map and Cyprus is just across the water. You could swim.”
I agreed it wasn’t too far out of my way. Nevertheless…
“Listen up,” Harry went on in his assertive way, “This is big, OK. I can’t talk on the phone. Its politics mixed with you know what.”
What he meant was it was politics mixed with what Harry did for a living.
After five years, I knew just enough about Harry for my own purposes but I’d never dug too deeply. He’d never asked me for a full, curriculum vitae and I’d never asked for his. To me, Harry was OK. He seemed to like me, we had ovrlappig businesss interests and there was, as he always said, mutual benefit to be gained by keeping in touch.
What I knew about Harry was that at some point, I imagine in his twenties, he’d joined the New York City Police Department but had never risen very high in the ranks. That hadn’t bothered me either because Harry had shown the determination, vision and tenacity to set himself up as a small-time private investigator. He rented a small office above a pharmacy on 125th Street.
He was a likeable guy whose only fault, I’d always thought, was to try too hard to appear like one of those small-time private investigators you see in Hollywood films. He already had the sweaty, balding, middle-aged and slightly overweight look.
He lacked the dirty raincoat and had given up smoking but the rest was there. He reminded me of a taller version of Danny DeVito except Harry seemed less stressed out. Or perhaps he just hid it better.
Life can be cut short so unexpectedly that I always try to ignore a person’s idiosyncrasies. We all have peculiarities moulded from something in our past but I’d always sensed that, for some reason, Harry found the going tough.
Why? That was the question that bothered me as I waited for the flight to Cyprus.
(DRAFT COVER)
It was Harry’s suggestion we met in Cyprus.
“Mutual benefit, Mitch,” he’d said on the phone. “Tell you later. Just be there, OK?”
Meeting Harry Branagan meant he had business to discuss but sudden instructions from an equal, even a friendly one, should never be taken without at least a hint of objection.
“Give me an inkling?” I replied.
“Inkling?” Harry said in his New York manner. “What the hell’s an inkling?”
“A hint,” I said, “A vague idea why I should drop everything at your behest?”
“Behest?” he said as if I,in my English way, was being awkward by using words he'd never before found a use for. “You told me you were in Athens so I checked a map and Cyprus is just across the water. You could swim.”
I agreed it wasn’t too far out of my way. Nevertheless…
“Listen up,” Harry went on in his assertive way, “This is big, OK. I can’t talk on the phone. Its politics mixed with you know what.”
What he meant was it was politics mixed with what Harry did for a living.
After five years, I knew just enough about Harry for my own purposes but I’d never dug too deeply. He’d never asked me for a full, curriculum vitae and I’d never asked for his. To me, Harry was OK. He seemed to like me, we had ovrlappig businesss interests and there was, as he always said, mutual benefit to be gained by keeping in touch.
What I knew about Harry was that at some point, I imagine in his twenties, he’d joined the New York City Police Department but had never risen very high in the ranks. That hadn’t bothered me either because Harry had shown the determination, vision and tenacity to set himself up as a small-time private investigator. He rented a small office above a pharmacy on 125th Street.
He was a likeable guy whose only fault, I’d always thought, was to try too hard to appear like one of those small-time private investigators you see in Hollywood films. He already had the sweaty, balding, middle-aged and slightly overweight look.
He lacked the dirty raincoat and had given up smoking but the rest was there. He reminded me of a taller version of Danny DeVito except Harry seemed less stressed out. Or perhaps he just hid it better.
Life can be cut short so unexpectedly that I always try to ignore a person’s idiosyncrasies. We all have peculiarities moulded from something in our past but I’d always sensed that, for some reason, Harry found the going tough.
Why? That was the question that bothered me as I waited for the flight to Cyprus.
ON SELLING E-BOOKS FREE OF CHARGE!
Until recently all e-versions of my self-published books were free?
That is still true of the Smashwords and Free Ebooks versions but why free?
The answer is that writing was always a hobby. Years of scribbling when I was travelling and when I was quiet, alone and able to escape into my own thoughts for just a few hours. I could make myself laugh or cry or put into words serious thoughts that I knew would never get spoken aloud - deep thoughts, controversial, political, sensitive, very private ones. My first full length novel, fitted around months of solitary travelling, took me ten years to get it to a state where I was sufficiently confident to self publish.
Now: If I had charged my time at even a minimum wage for ten years at only one hour a day I reckon a return of 40,000 dollars might just be enough to break even. The arithmetic is open to challenge but it's either a bit less than 40,000 dollars or, more likely, ten times more - it depends how you value your time. My subsequent novels have vastly increased the time I've spent writing and what I'd expect as a return if I was doing it for a living. But I expected nothing and got nothing because it was just a hobby.
There's an awful lot of published trash out there - a lot of it 'written' by established names, celebrities, politicians and sportsmen who actually get others to write for them. If you want to read it, feel free - buy it.
Likewise, if anyone likes my stuff enough to invest their time and money then good, go ahead, offer me a deal. That's when I'll start to negotiate a price that might offset some of my expense. On the other hand if mine is also trash then tell me. I still won't mind because I've enjoyed the writing.
The modern writing/publishing business is increasingly complicated, made more so because literary agents have failed to move with the times. They have missed, and are still missing, so much good literature written by total unknowns.
The other reason is that books, like so many other commodities, are grossly undervalued because of the economics and the need for mass appeal. In UK I can buy a paperback in a Tesco supermarket at a price that barely covers printing costs. What is the point of writing good stuff if, just at the end point where you might expect to earn a reasonable return for years of time and effort, you are treated like the bags of Tesco's mixed vegetables on the next shelf?
I, for one, never wanted to be treated like that.
Until recently all e-versions of my self-published books were free?
That is still true of the Smashwords and Free Ebooks versions but why free?
The answer is that writing was always a hobby. Years of scribbling when I was travelling and when I was quiet, alone and able to escape into my own thoughts for just a few hours. I could make myself laugh or cry or put into words serious thoughts that I knew would never get spoken aloud - deep thoughts, controversial, political, sensitive, very private ones. My first full length novel, fitted around months of solitary travelling, took me ten years to get it to a state where I was sufficiently confident to self publish.
Now: If I had charged my time at even a minimum wage for ten years at only one hour a day I reckon a return of 40,000 dollars might just be enough to break even. The arithmetic is open to challenge but it's either a bit less than 40,000 dollars or, more likely, ten times more - it depends how you value your time. My subsequent novels have vastly increased the time I've spent writing and what I'd expect as a return if I was doing it for a living. But I expected nothing and got nothing because it was just a hobby.
There's an awful lot of published trash out there - a lot of it 'written' by established names, celebrities, politicians and sportsmen who actually get others to write for them. If you want to read it, feel free - buy it.
Likewise, if anyone likes my stuff enough to invest their time and money then good, go ahead, offer me a deal. That's when I'll start to negotiate a price that might offset some of my expense. On the other hand if mine is also trash then tell me. I still won't mind because I've enjoyed the writing.
The modern writing/publishing business is increasingly complicated, made more so because literary agents have failed to move with the times. They have missed, and are still missing, so much good literature written by total unknowns.
The other reason is that books, like so many other commodities, are grossly undervalued because of the economics and the need for mass appeal. In UK I can buy a paperback in a Tesco supermarket at a price that barely covers printing costs. What is the point of writing good stuff if, just at the end point where you might expect to earn a reasonable return for years of time and effort, you are treated like the bags of Tesco's mixed vegetables on the next shelf?
I, for one, never wanted to be treated like that.
