The Criminal Intentions books are collections of short stories, some short some nearly novel length that I have combined together in this collection for you to enjoy, Dell.
In this collection are the following short stories: PRIVATE INVESTIGATIONS – A GOOD PLAN – BLACKNESS OF THE SOUL – THE LAST TAXI RIDE – DELLO GREEN – THE ACCIDENT – THE MAN WHO NEARLY TOOK MY LIFE – THE STORY OF THE MEXICAN – WHEN THEY TRIED TO KILL ME
An excerpt from the short story The Accident:
I lay breathing heavy, trying to calm my racing heart. The dream had been so vivid, so real. I had held her and it had felt so good so real so right. She had turned to me and I had opened my eyes and really seen her. Seen what I was holding. A rotting corpse. She was coming closer, holding me, her hands suddenly clutching harder, trying to drag me down into the grave she stank of.
I was covered with sweat, but my heart slowed and I got myself up and made it to the shower.
In the heart of the vast and shimmering Pacific Ocean, three young ship boys, each no more than a few years past their childhood, found themselves cast away on a breathtakingly beautiful tropical island. This was no ordinary place; it was a lush paradise adorned with vibrant flora and fauna, where the warm sun kissed the golden sands and the gentle waves whispered secrets of the sea. Yet, beneath this idyllic exterior lay the harsh reality of survival in the 17th century, a time when the world was still largely unexplored and filled with both wonder and danger. #HistoricalFiction #SeaAdventure #DellSweet #KU #Kindle #Readers #BookLovers #Paperback
Earth’s Survivors: The Nation Sandy’s Diary – March 26th I should start calling this a diary not a journal. It’s funny, but we started these to leave at the cave but then we brought them with us to keep for the children. Now it’s becoming something more, although still for the children, so they can see who we were or are… or both. I was about to write when I found out we’ll have visitors in the morning. I hadn’t expected it so soon. I wonder if they are people we can make a part of us? I guess we’ll all see tomorrow. I’m excited, but I was already. Susan and I, well we’re together. As in living, as in sleeping together. I cannot believe I took the step. I didn’t know I could. I didn’t really believe there could be someone out there for me. But she made it clear to me how she felt and that she will go with me where ever I want to go. You know, up until right then, all I wanted to do was go and help Bob and Jan start this Nation. I thought that was all I had in my mind. It wasn’t though. If she asked me not to go, I wouldn’t. I’ve never known an emotion that could affect such change inside of me so quickly. I’m not sure I’ve even known this emotion before… not like this. People are coming, and that is exciting. I’m with Susan, and that is life. Do you know what I mean? And that means I’m a lesbian. I guess I knew that. It is important to me to know who I am though. To say it, to own it. In our so called enlightened society it wasn’t universally accepted. Oh, on the surface, sure. But not really. And where is that world now? Gone. I guess it’s just us now. We don’t have time to be so judgmental, or for me, to care if I am judged. I’m happy!!! …
John Rourke is a private detective with contacts and a license to practice from New York to Arizona. He has the resources he needs across the country to find the information he needs to crack the toughest cases. Ex-cops, ex-Cons, snitches, stoolies, drug addicts, criminals, drug dealers and any kind of scum of the earth you can imagine or care to name. He knows the seedy side of life and to some people that makes him indispensable…
Book one:
The chipped paint on my beat-up Ford Falcon was flaking like old skin. The smell of stale coffee clung to the interior like a cheap perfume, a constant, bitter reminder of the long hours ahead. Across the street, Paul Fields’ two-story colonial loomed, a picture of suburban perfection, a stark contrast to the cramped discomfort of my temporary office. The relentless hum of traffic on Hemlock Drive was a dull, throbbing ache in my skull, a soundtrack to this tedious ballet of surveillance. My gut churned, not from the coffee, but from the gnawing feeling that I was hemorrhaging money, bleeding my retainer dry on this seemingly pointless stakeout…
A John Rourke detective Story (Private Investigations: John Rourke Private Detective Stories) Kindle Edition Book 2 of 3: Private Investigations: John Rourke Private Detective Storiesby W. W. Watson(Author)Format: Kindle Edition J Book 2 of 3: Private Investigations: John Rourke Private Detective Stories John Rourke is a private detective with contacts and a license to practice from New York to Arizona. He has the resources he needs across the country to find the information he needs to crack the toughest cases. Ex-cops, ex-Cons, snitches, stoolies, drug addicts, criminals, drug dealers and any kind of scum of the earth you can imagine or care to name. He knows the seedy side of life and to some people that makes him indispensable…
Book two:
My apartment, usually a sanctuary of quiet solitude, became a temporary forensic lab. The dining table transformed into a command center, littered with maps, photographs, financial records, and transcripts of intercepted phone calls. The air hung heavy with the scent of stale coffee and the lingering aroma of cheap takeout containers. Days bled into nights as I painstakingly organized the evidence, meticulously documenting every detail, creating a comprehensive narrative that would stand up to the scrutiny of the legal system… #BookWorm #Readers #KindleUnlimited #WWWatson #Crime #Noir #Mystery #PrivateEye
John Rourke is a private detective with contacts and a license to practice from New York to Arizona. He has the resources he needs across the country to find the information he needs to crack the toughest cases. Ex-cops, ex-Cons, snitches, stoolies, drug addicts, criminals, drug dealers and any kind of scum of the earth you can imagine or care to name. He knows the seedy side of life and to some people that makes him indispensable…
Book three:
The silence was broken by the distant screech of a hawk, its cry sharp and piercing against the vast silence of the desert. It was a lonely sound, a perfect metaphor for the state of my own soul. I was tired, bone-deep tired. Sleep was a luxury I couldn’t afford, nightmares a constant companion. The faces of the victims, the ones I’d found along Rieser’s trail, haunted my dreams. Each one a testament to the brutal efficiency of a man who knew how to erase his tracks… #BookWorm #Readers #KindleUnlimited #WWWatson #Crime #Noir #Mystery #PrivateEye
The True: True stories from a small town are true stories from that place. From my childhood up through my adulthood. Some heartfelt, some heart rending, some the horrible truth of the life I lived at that time… #NonFiction #Crime #OrganizedCrime #Childhood #Readers #KU #Amazon
True: True stories from a small town #2
In my younger days I lived my life like there was no tomorrow. I wasn’t thinking about what to do when the check came due, when life changed, when I crossed someone or they crossed me. I wish I had grown up different, but my time on the streets and the lessons that taught me. #NonFiction #Crime #OrganizedCrime #Childhood #Readers #KU #Amazon
True: True stories from a small town #3
In AA they say that addictions will take you to hospitals, Mental Institutions and Prisons. It’s true. They will. I have been in all of those places because of my addictions. But addictions are not responsible for the life I lead entirely, and certainly not responsible for the things I did. #NonFiction #Crime #OrganizedCrime #Childhood #Readers #KU #Amazon
True: True stories from a small town #4
The True: True stories from a small town are true stories from that place. From my childhood up through my adulthood. Some heartfelt, some heart rending, some the horrible truth of the life I lived at that time… (Based on a true story from my life. Names have been changed, but truthfully almost all of them are dead now so it doesn’t matter.) #NonFiction #Crime #OrganizedCrime #Childhood #Readers #KU #Amazon
Private Investigations 2: A John Rourke detective Story (Private Investigations: John Rourke Private Detective Stories) Kindle Edition Book 2 of 3: Private Investigations: John Rourke Private Detective Storiesby W. W. Watson(Author)Format: Kindle Edition J Book 2 of 3: Private Investigations: John Rourke Private Detective Stories John Rourke is a private detective with contacts and a license to practice from New York to Arizona. He has the resources he needs across the country to find the information he needs to crack the toughest cases. Ex-cops, ex-Cons, snitches, stoolies, drug addicts, criminals, drug dealers and any kind of scum of the earth you can imagine or care to name. He knows the seedy side of life and to some people that makes him indispensable…
Book two:
My apartment, usually a sanctuary of quiet solitude, became a temporary forensic lab. The dining table transformed into a command center, littered with maps, photographs, financial records, and transcripts of intercepted phone calls. The air hung heavy with the scent of stale coffee and the lingering aroma of cheap takeout containers. Days bled into nights as I painstakingly organized the evidence, meticulously documenting every detail, creating a comprehensive narrative that would stand up to the scrutiny of the legal system… #BookWorm #Readers #KindleUnlimited #WWWatson #Crime #Noir #Mystery #PrivateEye
John Rourke is a private detective with contacts and a license to practice from New York to Arizona. He has the resources he needs across the country to find the information he needs to crack the toughest cases. Ex-cops, ex-Cons, snitches, stoolies, drug addicts, criminals, drug dealers and any kind of scum of the earth you can imagine or care to name. He knows the seedy side of life and to some people that makes him indispensable…
Book one:
The chipped paint on my beat-up Ford Falcon was flaking like old skin. The smell of stale coffee clung to the interior like a cheap perfume, a constant, bitter reminder of the long hours ahead. Across the street, Paul Fields’ two-story colonial loomed, a picture of suburban perfection, a stark contrast to the cramped discomfort of my temporary office. The relentless hum of traffic on Hemlock Drive was a dull, throbbing ache in my skull, a soundtrack to this tedious ballet of surveillance. My gut churned, not from the coffee, but from the gnawing feeling that I was hemorrhaging money, bleeding my retainer dry on this seemingly pointless stakeout…
“Hey,” he said. A young guy. Unshaven. Wild hair. I could smell the street on him. His teeth were yellowed and chipped. Looked to be blackening in places I saw. His tongue continuously licked at his cracked lips. I couldn’t speak. Wouldn’t have known what to say if I had been able to, and I was having a very hard time keeping my eyes open. The lights were too bright.
“Hey,” he said again. “I didn’t know you would be naked… In a bath tub… He didn’t say that… I’m sorry…. I really am sorry.” His hand swam into view as I watched. Normal except a black lump seemed to be fused to it. A black lump with a blacker hole in the end of it. Fire spat from the blacker hole. The lights went out…#Audio #Book #SamWolfe #DreamTravel #Readers #Listeners
In this world… time moves by… doesn’t stop for you or me… The ones who stop and wait are the ones who never see… So my feet… move me on… though they’re weary of this flight… They will lead me to tomorrow, wipe the fallen from my sight…
Instrumental—————Short lead transition—————————————————–
Hook:
Pick me up… Fill my cup… Fix the damage in my head… Fill my soul… Make me whole… Raise me from the dead… Show my eyes what can be… shine your light so I can see…
Verse Two:
In my life… I have seen… distant dreams of futures past… And the one who filled my cup left it empty at the last… And my eyes… tired from sight… rimmed in red and slow to see… Can’t conceive eternity from the edge of what can be…
Instrumental—————Short lead transition—————————————————–
Hook:
Pick me up… Fill my cup… Fix the damage in my head… Fill my soul… Make me whole… Raise me from the dead… Show my eyes what can be… shine your light so I can see…
Verse Three:
Walk alone… Through this world… Through this cold I’ve always known… Taking only what I need from the seed that has been sown… And this world… sells itself… pretty dreams that can not be… And though we stop to look we can never truly see…
Instrumental————— Long Lead —————————————————————-
Verse Four:
Take my time… tap the glass… raise the bubbles from my cure… Pull the curtains on my pasts… and all I thought they ever were… As my soul… Finds its way… push the darkness from my mind… Lay your words upon my heart as my rest I go to find…
Instrumental—————Short lead transition—————————————————–
Hook
Pick me up… Fill my cup… Fix the damage in my head… Fill my soul… Make me whole… Raise me from the dead… Show my eyes what can be… shine your light so I can see… Verse Five: Let my heart… lead me on… from your memories in my mind… lay your coins upon my eyes… speak your magic line by line… As my sun… slowly sets… I will try not to forget… all the lessons from this world and the souls that I have met…
Instrumental—————Short lead transition—————————————————–
Hook / Xtro:
Pick me up… Fill my cup… Fix the damage in my head… Fill my soul… Make me whole… Raise me from the dead… Show my eyes what can be… shine your light so I can see… which way to walk…
Why I Wrote It: I wrote this song in one shot, most of it came as fast as I could write it. I understood what it was as I wrote it, although the lyrics are slightly obscure, or seemed to me to be (I’ve since been told by readers that it’s not so obscure but pretty straight forward.). It’s about my life ending of course. Flirtation with suicide. Drug use. Disillusionment with the world, religion, society on every level. I spent a lot of my life that way. When I was on the streets for two years this is the way, I looked at the world. Cynical, glass half full. I tried suicide, nearly succeeded. I thought how nice it would be to lay down and pull the plug. That is what this song is about. I’m not there anymore. I don’t want to encourage anyone to be there either, but some of us spent years there and never talked about it…
For Billy Jingo, living in Glennville is a dead in life. His trailer home next to the county dump. His dead-end job. The boring life he lived. And then on Friday morning his whole world turned upside down. He suddenly found himself emerged in crime that was so far above his normal reasoning range that, at first, he couldn’t even comprehend the implications on it. In a heartbeat he found himself in a fight for his life. On the run with someone’s drugs and money and a girl he had not even known just a few hours before. Buckle up, enjoy the ride. Fast paced pulp style fiction… #Crime #Audio #Pulp #Readers #Listeners
