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The Corrupted [Secure eReader]
eBook by Dennis Lewis
eBook Category: Romance/Suspense/Thriller
eBook Description: A gripping novel about a disgraced war veteran who returns to his home city of Cardiff where he accepts, without qualms, a job as a drug-dealer. He becomes involved in a murderous 'turf war' against a corrupt police force, and his uncertain destiny is decided for him by his abiding love for a woman.
eBook Publisher: Accent Press/Accent
Fictionwise Release Date: September 2006
 
Why is it that our bad dreams are so life-like? Well?why? Why are our nightmares so very like life? Is it because, as in life, we have to suffer them alone? The Viennese drug addict, Freud, knew a lot about nightmares. But in his own, personal nightmares, the genius psychoanalyst was still a lone-creature, feeble and separated from the flock. Even Freud, the expert on dreams, had to suffer his bad dreams alone, lying in the dark. Shit!? says Motley, waking suddenly, still full of yearning, apology and vast contrition. Before his eyes can grow used to the gloom, they play a cruel trick on him: ?Boys?? he says hopefully, ??Boys? Where are you?? Alas, Staff Sergeant Motley?s boys can't hear him anymore; they're all gone. And he?s calling out in his dreams again. It makes sense to Motley to cry out in pain every night. His unconscious struggles cover him in a cold lather; the rumpled sheets of his bed are soaked with sweat. He stares groggily into the darkness for a few more seconds, then says, ?They're gone?all gone.? The nightmares happen a lot lately: those uninvited deliverers of toxic memory. Motley?s dreams flare and burn with liability and shame. This is one of the ways the past finds him out, the spilt-milk past. The past likes to find him in his sleep; it comes to get him, bringing with it his forgotten wrongs. He just can't stop the past; he just can't keep it out of his dreams. Motley?s past is full of smoke and screams and the sound of the sky cracking open. Sometimes he wakes up in the night and his mind isn't his any more, it just isn't working for him anymore. In his dreams, Motley?s mind is working for the other side, the side that says he should have got it right: ?Oh Mother! Lord! Anyone! ?No more dreams!? Motley longs for amnesia, that long, cradling, melancholic sleep. But Motley?s past is still out there, the straight-line past that runs right through the heart of his present like a castigating spear.
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