Death by Marketing E-BOOK

i was facing sure death - my own.

Not like my former partner faked hers - this was an actual slow grind that was really wearing me down. Inevitable unless I changed something. Because that's what my doctor said.

Like getting your arteries clogged - slow and ultimately painful death. You just don't know it until you wind up with a heart that won't run and keep your body running. Death - slow, but sure.

Then I spotted that ad. And my heart skipped a beat. In a good way.

This guy really knew how to write. And he wants a committed female marketer. Single. Eye roll - for sure.

If that ad wasn't so curious, I'd swear he just wants some hack writer bimbo to bed, who'd last only as long as he kept throwing money at her. But still - it wouldn't hurt to find out where he learned to write like that.

Only I still needed to last at least that long. Just to meet this guy.

One last adventure...

Excerpt: 

 Then I saw it. That ad. Like the fabled "Shackleton ad". But not quite.

Paying by the word meant a certain budget to stay within. So word choices were precise. Short, concise, pointed. And mystery just dripping off it.

What I read between the lines cast a lot of doubt as to this guy's intentions.

"Genius Female Marketer Needed."

Probably wanted a bimbo to bed while she wrote his ads and took him for anything she could.

The next lines were all Shackleton - "enough adventure to last the rest of your lifetime."

So that bimbo he wanted was probably a mail-order bride.

The next two lines were just more along that line – about rigors, hardship, not returning the same.

And the usual one about "fame and renown possible upon success."

Everyone knew the Shackleton ad was a fake. So why did this guy use it as a model? Or was this another A/B ad to see what pulled better?

But the last line was the real hook: "Priceless secrets disclosed upon acceptance – Only to The One who Qualifies."

A complete buy-now, and extremely limited quantities.

No, I wasn't interested in becoming anyone's bedded bimbo. Even for the few days or a year I had left.

The "priceless secrets disclosed" had me going, though. Sure, I had enough time to do some treasure hunting. Now that I had nothing else to do.

And for the first time in years, I got interested in something. This ad – and finding the guy who could write so well in such a limited space. Maybe he needed a job. And maybe I wouldn't mind being his bimbo if those "secrets" were worth it.

So I pulled out my phone and called the newspaper. Classified Ad department.

- - - -

And their response was even more curious. They had a small form to send out, so I just drove over and picked it up. Filled it out while standing at their little counter. They said they would send it off.

What they didn't tell me was that it was to be sent by next-day express service.

Two day's later, I got one of those at my home address. Even had to sign for it. And once I pulled open the zip-strip on that cardboard sleeve, the only thing in it was a simple note-sized paper with a street address on a rural road, and precise latitude and longitude.

All above an appointment for one o'clock three days from now. Not anything about how it was negotiable, or convenient. It just so happened to be on a Friday.

No signature. Block-printed hand-lettered. Each line precisely centered.

Smelled like coffee, maybe fried food.

Curiouser and curiouser.

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