"Rage—the seed of unconscious motivation and
the progenitor of uncontrollable lusting for revenge."

                        Carl Gustav Jung (1875-1961)

                             Noted Swiss Psychoanalyst   

                                 Excerpts from the sizzling psychological drama novel 
                                                 The Paradise of Revenge 
                                                                          by 
                                                               Richard Lee Orey
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Background:
(Devout young Josefina Camarillo--victimized by a ruthless courthouse crime family that staged her
brutal sexual assault and the shameful cross carved into the flesh of her breasts--is unable to face reality.
To survive, her psyche creates Josie, an alter ego second personality obsessed with wicked revenge.)

        
    From Chapter Seven:

     DARKNESS smothered everything.  Someone jerked her arms above her head, tying them together.  A terrible weight on her chest crushed down.  Gasoline fumes stung her nose, took her breath away.

The dark shadow of a big naked man stared down at her, his arm hard across her throat, choking her.  Father Santos stood watching as her legs were forced apart.  There was a terrible pounding pain, a vaporous cloud.  Holy Mother was watching, turning her back and vanishing.

Suddenly, she felt her soul of innocence lifting out from her body.  From the distance and all around, a cold and wicked laugh stopped her heart.  Terrified, she begged a desperate prayer.  “Holy Mother, don’t let him take my innocence.  Oh, Holy Mother, please!  Please!”

She screamed in horror when Christ’s red blood erupted in spurts from the ripped flesh of her chest, sobbing hysterically when her revered rosewood crucifix was discarded, dirtily, in her sacred space.

                                                * * * * *

THE VOICE was loud and insistent.  “Josefina!  Josefina!  Wake up, Josefina!”

Her eyes began to focus.  In soft light, she saw that she was in a room lying on a bed.  A woman in uniform-white was talking to her, telling her everything was okay and that it was all just a nightmare, a scary dream.  She was safe and in a warm bed in a hospital.  Everything was over.  She was safe with friends.

Shortly, Nurse Sanchez gone, Josefina Maria Camarillo lay still and unmoving, staring at the nothingness of a white ceiling.  Strangely, her smoke-gray eyes rolled up showing only white.  Her body shuddered and shivered.  Her eyes rolled down, staring fiercely, darting in agitation from one spot to another.

The soft, loving eyes of Josefina were gone.  Josefina was gone.  The fierce, darting eyes belonged to Josie Camarillo.  Josie with strong, obsessive thoughts filling her mind.  Josie’s coming, you bastards.  Soon you’ll hurt and suffer like us.  Soon we will know the paradise of revenge.  Soon Josefina’s innocence will be restored and, once again, she will be a woman of virtue.

Long moments passed.  Josie Camarillo lay still and motionless.  Eric Hansen, I handled him well.  He suspects nothing.  I will work my plan carefully before I show my presence.   Soon he will serve me and fulfill my plan.

Again, there was the telltale rolling up of eyes and the shuddering and shaking of body followed by the rolling down of eyes.  Seconds later, the strained face of the young woman in the hospital bed eased and relaxed.  Josefina Maria Camarillo was back and resting comfortably, enjoying the sweet perfume of pink rosebuds and the full September sun setting lazily in the west.

 Her battered body ached but not as before.  The physical pain was bearable.  It was the flashback visions and nightmares that tormented her so.  But hope was in her heart.  Time and patience and prayer were strengths she relied on.

What troubled Josefina most were the spells of blanking out and then coming back, only to find that hours had passed unnoticed.  Afterward, she was left with these lingering, unsettled thoughts.  Not really memories and yet they didn’t seem imaginings, either.  If the strange happenings flowed from the agitation of her terrible ordeal, she knew sooner or later it would pass. 

Countless times she had asked herself, “Why me?  Why me?”  And now she understood.  All that had happened to her was God’s wrath for letting loneliness and despair invite wicked thoughts into her mind and heart.  She had walked with God all her life, innocent and pure.  Selfishly, walking along old Telegraph Canyon Road, she had turned her back on her faith that God had a plan for her.  She had sought to plan her own life.  She had sinned against God with her wicked thoughts, and she was being punished!

But what Josefina felt was not of God’s doing.  God was not secretive.  Something else was happening to her.  Something raging inside was struggling to burst out.  Something of great power.  Something beyond understanding and control. 

Deep in her heart and soul, Josefina felt the torment of anguish and sorrow.  Shamed and defiled, separated from God, she sobbed her agony.

In the shadow, Satan smiled.  

                                            * * * * *

        From Chapter Forty-eight:

     Josefina’s emotions were rising, again, but she carried on with her story.

            “I met you, Shy Lanier Whitestone, and you were handsome and strong and kind and sensitive and God-centered with my own values and, and wonderful to be with!  When I thought about you, you filled my heart with warmth.  When I was in your presence, you filled my heart with joy.  You were everything I had longed for and prayed for all my life.

            “It was not part of my plan, Shy.  In fact, I fought my feelings in every way I knew how.  But I fell in love with you, Shy.  I fell hopelessly and completely and blissfully in love.”

            She drew in a deep breath and sighed.  “That’s when I knew I had to tell you the truth.  And that’s, also, when I realized that if I told you the truth about our past life together, I might lose you.  I couldn’t face losing you, Shy.  But I was terrified that if I told you the truth, I would lose you.   But Mac knew who I was and counseled me and gave me support to tell you everything.”

            Josefina’s tears began flowing beyond control, her face ridden with the pain of revealing a truth she had kept buried within.  It was a pain she had wanted to release long before by seeking out Shy and confessing her wrongdoings and begging his understanding and forgiveness.  But she hadn’t confessed.  And the moment of truth was at hand.  And it hurt.  It hurt bad.

            She pressed her face close to Shy’s, her lips inches away, her words spoken from her aching heart.  “Shy Lanier Whitestone, I am Josefina Maria Camarillo.  I am not Josie Hansen.  I am Josefina.  And I want you to know that the very first time in my life that I had any sexual contact with you at any time, ever, was when we made love right here in this apartment, right in that bedroom and in that bed.”

            Tearful, torn with emotion, she bared her truth.  “The first time I ever saw your body, Shy, was right here in this apartment, right in my shower.”

            Tears flowed freely, now.  “When you made love to me that night, Shy, I nearly died from sheer ecstasy and excitement.  Not only from sexual delight but from the joy I felt in the love and harmony of our spirits.”

            Josefina’s anguish was uncontrollable, now, her heart breaking with pain.  Violently, she ripped her blouse from her body and threw it on the floor.  Spreading her arms, she displayed her scarred breasts to her soul mate.  “Look, damn you!” she sobbed.  “I’ve gone to hell and back with this body.

            “I knew my shame and my humiliation would be with me forever.  My hurt was so deep, so bad from my rape and mutilation, I couldn’t go on with life.  All I ever wanted was to keep my promise to dear Mama to marry my God-sent man in church.

            “Yes, my name is Josefina Maria Camarillo.  I’m inside this body.  And if all you see are the raised welts and scars that triggered the evil personality of Josie Hansen, then spit on me and go.

            “But know this Shy Lanier:  Inside these breasts beats a heart that understands and shares your pain and heartache, a heart that loves you for what you are.”

            Her chest jerked with a heavy sob.  “Talk about truth?  The truth is you said you loved me.  And if you hate me because of Josie Hansen, then you lied, Shy.  You lied, too.”

            Eyes swollen from crying, face wet with tears and reddened with anguished emotion, Josefina knelt bare breasted on her knees before the man who had become her reason for living.  Closing her eyes, speaking softly and reverently, she said, “Shy Lanier Whitestone, I am with you and you are with me.  We are one in harmony and spirit.  My heart lives only in your presence.    Truly, truly do I love you.”

            Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked up at her man.  “If you don’t love me, Shy, if you can’t stand the sight of me, please leave, now.  Just walk out and leave me.”

            She drew in a deep breath and continued.  “But if you love me, love me like I love you, then take me in your arms, hold me close and kiss my terrible pain away, ‘cause I hurt, Shy Lanier.  Oh, God, I hurt so bad!”

            Chest jerking with sobs of pain, streams of passion running down her tan cheeks, Josefina closed her eyes and waited.  Lips quivering, body trembling, fervent prayer in her heart, she waited.  Holy Mother, pray for me…

            And in her terrible moment of anguish and pain, Josefina felt the strong arms of Shy Lanier close about her.  Gently, he lifted her to her feet and pulled her to him, his lips soft on her eyelids, his words sweet and precious to her ears.  “Josefina Camarillo, I am with you and you are with me.  I love you and adore you.  Whatever memories stand in our paths, we’ll deal with.  I only want to hold you close and feel the goodness of your heart and taste the sweetness of your lips for the rest of my life.”

            To her soul, the blessing of his kiss was tender and loving, forgiving and fulfilling.  It was everything Josefina had yearned and prayed for all her life.  Together this night, cuddled heart-to-heart, Josefina slept the dream of her life.

            And so it was that God gifted dear sweet Josefina Maria Camarillo with the man she had prayed for, the man of her dreams and the love of her life.

            It was God’s plan.

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