Love and the Joy of Murder

By William J. Ryan

Screenplay version: 2016 Finalist in an international Screenwriting Competition! Placed 14th in its Genre!
A man and woman from seemingly opposite ends of society, find each other in the middle of a murder/cover-up. This bazaar circumstance, narrated by the female victim, brings this unlikely pair together, for neither can,,, or want to leave each other. From their closeness, love develops, as each of their personalities rub off on the other. They both have finally found joy, love and happiness in each other, on the outer fringes of life and the law.

• Language: English
• Publisher: William J. Ryan
• Release date: Mar 22, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370882113

William J. Ryan

I am William J. Ryan. I am in my 60’s, an autodidact (self-directed learner) and I am dyslexic. I not only suffer from trouble with letters, numbers and spelling of words changing on me, but structuring of sentences will sometimes be backwards. (Don’t worry; I hire someone to edit these stories before I publish them!) I write for the joy of writing, of getting an idea out there. I write in many different genres, children’s stories, historical fiction, fiction, science fiction, crime, and adventure, all the way to anti-religion. I do research on everything that I write about in order to try to be as factual as I can be. I have self – published 35 books and 22 screenplays! Self - publishing is a great way to start, but it is hard to get the audience’s attention. I am also the illustrator of all the artwork within each of my books and most of the cover art. You won’t find many authors out there that include artwork in their stories. More About Me Born in poverty, by white trash sperm and egg donors, my childhood was one horrific nightmare after another, that I would spend the rest of my life overcoming. Freeing myself from this extremely dysfunctional cluster of lost self-indulgent beings, by cutting off all contact with them, was the best thing I ever did. At an early age I chose not to have children for I was not given the skill to raise them and chose not to pass on the gruesome genetic dysfunctions that I had inherited. Writing personal painful events in one of my fictional characters is second nature and comes far far far too easy. In my early 20s, I discovered my reading and learning disability had a name, Dyslexia and I worked as an adult to overcome letters and numbers changing before my eyes. Later in life, as an older adult, I learned the power of reading and writing and became an Autodidact. This affliction never leaves the afflicted. I am glad to trade the curse of Dyslexia for the skills to invent and create people places and events that I see so clearly in my mind’s eye. Every story, every town, every person is 100% real to me and I see every picture on the wall, the view out the window, the streets and homes of the neighborhoods, making them all real to me and I hope the reader. Artfully crafted acquired skills, from a childhood trying to escape the insanity surrounding this small boy and his young developing mind, where he found himself. i.e. A clear example of a Dyslexic sentence. A short stent (seven years), in the criminal banking industry; where I saw V.P.’s change mortgage interest rates higher on loans, to increase the profits for the bank, cheating the customers. When I refused to participate, I was told, “I needed to think of the Bank First”. My response was “I will never do this.” I also witnessed V.P.’s instruct managers to create duplicate false files (and they did) concealing the crimes of the bank during a government audit, so they would pass. When I could find the courage to walk out, (without notice for they did not earn it) I did and changed my life’s path for the better, still looking for that place in my child’s mind, where people were honest, decent and truthful. All of my life up to this point, I could not face my tormentors, because I was beaten down so badly as a child. I finally found my voice and the inner strength to take the bullies in my life on,,, one at a time. With each confrontation, with each face to face battle, I have grown stronger and developed the skills to beat back the bullies of the world, exposing them for what they truly are. There is no one I will not attack back, fending off their aggression, their bullying of the weakest among us all,,, children,,, has become my single life focal point. At this intolerant unforgiving stage in my life, my understanding of man’s history, is continually being rewritten, removing the light of truth, so I pull further away from people. The worst being the so called God Fearing People, that believe they can do anything to anyone and God will forgive their sins so they can do it again. Every one of them has shown me the black oozing bag that is their soul. There is no helping them, so I stopped trying and recoil from the religious. The evil that all religious people do every day, in their God’s name, (genocide, rape of a child, land grab, slavery) show us all that their god must have horns and a pointy tale. This clear understanding of people and the evil that exist just under the skin, emerges in all my stories. A good writer should not create without understanding, but write what they know. I know this evil all too well and I can write and attest to it!!! Favorite Quotes (some) “Just because you are born in shit, does not mean you must stay there.” The quote is from a female pilot from WWII, instrumental in the development of the WASP, name unknown. “A man’s strength is measured by the strength of his enemies” Sioux These quotes are indeed very powerful. My list is very long and grows with every day. Each day I wait for them to come and kill me,,, the Deceivers that I expose. “Hell is other people” From the book NO EXIT by Jean-Paul Sartre 1944. The things he must have witnessed,,, as the Good German Christians gathered up the Jews (the god killers, Jewish Decide) for the slaughter. Oops did I let that slip? Yes the Nazis were unapologetic-ally Christian,,, Gott Mit Uns (God with us) was worn upon every German Christians soldiers belt as they justified their actions with words of Scrupulosity and its madness. Example; “Our movement is Christian” Adolf Hitler. These Christians are not good people and for me this quote helps prove it. “The waste,,, the waste,,, the waste.” These were the last words of the abdicated King Edward VIII of England. Somehow it seems to sum up the best efforts of man on Earth. “I am ashamed to say I am a member of the human race.” said by Charles Bukowski, August 16th 1920 to March 9th 1994. Words I hear in my mind every day as I see more atrocities of man and his foot print upon this small planet. I carry all of these words with me every day and use them to steer me from the rocky shores of others as I set the heading of my ship away,,, off into the setting sun,,, as I was born,,, alone. Personal Hero’s Ferdinand Waldo Demara Jr.; his skills of camouflages and moving from one life to another, immeasurably helped to guide me and re-invent myself for the better. It is with envy I look to him and his life, for he truly is,,, The Great Impostor. This is but a small window into my soul and reveals but a small part of what has made this man what he is,,, good or bad.

Book preview

Love and the Joy of Murder

Written and Illustrated by William J. Ryan

Copyright 2018 William J. Ryan

Published by William J. Ryan at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. This book may not be reproduced in part or in whole without the written permission of the author. You may write to William J. Ryan at Post Office Box 666, Dade City, Florida 33526

If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All information, theories and any philosophies or hypotheses should be verified by the reader from outside sources before one takes action to protect oneself from any of the impending dooms that are predicted to come within this book.

All theories and characters in this book (if any) are fictitious and any resemblance to others or actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental unless a true name is used and true quotes are used.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

About William J. Ryan

Other books by William J. Ryan

Connect with William J. Ryan

Chapter One

Disappearing

My first sensation was that of euphoria. I was sure that I was dead,,, for I had no body,,, there was no outside source of feeling coming in. Then I noticed I was breathing,,, but only through my nose. I could not use my mouth. Something was very wrong.

As hard as I tried I could not open my eyes and I felt a panic race through my body. When I tried to move I could not. More fear raced through me as I tried to understand what was going on. Clearly, I must still be alive,,, or is this how death feels. If I was to head for the light,,, where was it?

The sensation of heat was overtaking me as I knew I was perspiring,,, I was alive. I must have been in an accident and in a coma. ‘Oh God,,, no,,, please don’t let me be alive but unresponsive. Let me have control over my body or let me die,,, don’t leave me like this,,, please!’

I had to try to move one thing,,, a finger,,, yes I needed to move one finger. But I couldn’t,,, I could not tell were my arms were. It must have been a bad accident, but I was home last night. ‘You mean the last night you remember. Oh God, please let me have arms. Forget how I got here, this heat is killing me; I must let them know I am alive. Then move something,,, move your leg,,, move your foot,,, move a toe.’ But I could not for it was like I didn’t have any. ‘Oh God, please don’t let me live as this.’

‘I am going to be sick,,, Nooo,,, don’t you dare get sick,,,’ There was something in my mouth. A respirator,,, yes there was a tube down my throat keeping me alive and they had my eyes covered.

‘That’s it,,, I am in a hospital and they are keeping me alive. I must show them I am alive. God, they must see I am burning up with heat.

Move what you can,,, make a sound! Ok I will say something.’ And there it was, a moan came from my throat,,, ‘Yes,,, now move something,,, your shoulder, or your head,,, for God’s sake move something.’

Then I could hear the sound of something near me,,, it was a respirator or a pump,,, ‘no it comes and goes. MOVE!!! MOAN!!! DO SOMETHING,,, show them you are alive!!!’

With all my strength I let out a yell and moved my shoulder and turned my head back and forth. The sound stopped and there was silence. I tried to fight the heat and I could feel the drugs inside me. ‘I must not pass out,,, move,,, scream,,, you idiot,,, let them know you are alive!’

Something dropped near me with the sound of a ringing, like a pipe or something large and metal. I let out another burst of sound and movement,,, the most I could before I passed out from this dammed heat.

Then I hear a dog barking,,, ‘Is this death? Am I to face the hereafter and it starts with a pet I once knew,,, is that Sam.’ I lost Sam such a long time ago,,, ok,,, I am ready.’ It was then I heard him sniffing at my ear,,, you’re not dead,,, you idiot let them know you are alive.

It was then I felt someone near me,,, a presence. Someone was moving me,,, ayes there is someone here with me,,, let them know you are alive. I let out the only sound I could and turned my head back and forth. They stopped for a moment then I could feel what felt like someone uncovering me and cooler fresh air was coming into my lungs.

‘Sensation is returning to me,,, I will be ok,,, the fever must be breaking and I am just having a dream brought on by delirium or the hospital drugs. Let them know you are alive,,, move,,, speak!’

Then I could feel fresh air come over my face and I drew in a deep breath to show them I was alive. But,,, I couldn’t breathe through my nose if I had an endo-tracheal tube in my mouth and down my throat.

The cool air blew across my body and I could feel the fever breaking,,, then the dog sniffing at my ear as he began to lick me. ‘This is no hospital and this is not dream. What is that smell,,, it’s salt air.’

I lay there on my back for the longest time cooling,,, ‘talk to them,,, let them know you are a person,,, alive!’ I could feel them move closer to me and then I felt a hand on my shoulder. A shock wave of fear raced over me,,, but I tried not to show fear and let out another sound as I turned my head.

Then in the softest of voices a man spoke in a monotone voice, You are still alive.

Yes!!! I screamed it as loud as I could but it came out as a loud inaudible moan. My desperation was sounding like fear,,, show no fear.

They sat there quietly for a moment, then I tried again, and then this same soft voice asked, Do you want me to remove your gag?

Gag!!!??? That’s it!!! It’s a gag! I have a gag in my mouth and something is over my eyes. Oh God, I have been kidnapped and he is going to rape me and kill me. Stop it! Survive this,,, you know how. Taking in a long breath and then using my voice in a controlled manner I said Yes" and I tried to shake my head up and down.

There was nothing for the longest time, and then I heard movement and the snap of a switchblade and then his finger slipping under the gag on my cheek. I let out a sharp short squeal and he stopped and said, Don’t worry,,, I will not cut you.

I took in another deep breath and let it out slowly. I could feel him cutting the binds and quickly they popped open and the pressing pain subsided. They very gently removed the bind and pulled out the gag that was in my mouth.

I could feel my tongue so I drew in a deep breath and coughed, as phlegm had built up. After a moment of recovery I could speak, Thank you. That is so much better.

By now I knew I was tied up and still blindfolded. The drug was wearing off and I still had a long way to go to get free of this. Could you please remove this blindfold,,, I would like to see my savior. You are a hero to me and it is very kind of you to help me. I was trying to show him I was a real person.

There was a pause for a moment,,, as though he were thinking, You want me to remove the blindfold?

Yes please.

Ok. And like that he began to cut those binds and gently remove them.

The sun was blinding and there was dirt in my eyes. As I tried I could not focus,,, I could see a dark shadow standing over me looking down. There were trees and blue sky and I could feel sand and hear seagulls crying and water lapping on the shore. It was the smell of the sea that filled my lungs.

I was coming out of the fog from the drugs I had been given and things were coming into focus, Thank you,,, that is much better.

The