Ryan Ross Quotes

You’re a surly, misanthropic git, aren’t you, Ryan?” she said, rhetorically. “I have no idea why I like you so much.

But religion, as it’s tossed around now, has so little compassion. So little humanity, and faith is first human.

I have found the one whom my soul loves,” he quotes. More tears rain over my cheeks; a release years overdue. I weep for every time I’ve felt unloved, unwanted, unnecessary, and imperfect. It’s all there in the look he settles on me. To him, I’m more than enough. I’m all that he wants.

You can’t take away the pain she feels, or the grief, but you can ease it for her every time she looks up and finds you standing beside her.

the best way to deal with fear was to channel it into productivity.

Nothing exists except atoms and empty space; everything else is just opinion.” —Democritus

Violent murder tended to kill your appetite for sugar.

Not long before my heart was shredded by “Ryan,” I saw the superb, painful, and infuriating documentary God Loves Uganda, a film by the astounding Roger Ross Williams. The doc examined the role of American evangelicalism in Uganda, its ties to a recently introduced bill, the Uganda Anti-Homosexuality Act—which then suggested the death penalty for LGBTQ+ people—as it gained serious momentum. It follows missionaries, evangelical leaders, and the LGBTQ+ people of Uganda who fight for their right to exist. These activists were standing up against vicious oppression, rhetoric, and ideas originally introduced and continuously perpetuated by the West. Concealed in “good deeds,” American missionaries created infrastructure for access to indoctrinate the populace, which fueled anti-LGBTQ+ violence and hate.

time, particularly following a difficult case. Over

then remembered that children saw everything, whether you wanted them to, or not.

As they stepped inside its familiar entrance, they recognised the sights and smells of illness that were as familiar to the doctors and nurses of the hospital as the scent of tuna casserole was to the officers of Northumbria CID.

Helps, doesn’t it?” Phillips said, as the first star popped into the cardinal blue sky above their heads. “To watch the stars? Yeah, it gives a bit of perspective.

Even the darkest night will end, and the sun will rise.” —Victor Hugo, Les Misérables

First rule of murder investigation, Ryan thought, was not to expect the perp to think like a normal person. “Get Faulkner’s

wall against his back, then frowned as he heard a creaking sound coming from somewhere close by. He was about to investigate, when the house was plunged into darkness once again. * * * Ryan swung his car through the gates and was forced to reduce his speed along the narrow driveway, for which Phillips was eternally grateful. They followed the road over the little stone bridge next to the Archimedes screw and heard the water bubbling furiously through its crushing blades as they passed. They rounded a bend and the house materialised through the trees, its windows flaming brightly against the inky blue-black sky. “It doesn’t look real, does it?” Phillips said, his eyes trained on the perfect backdrop. “It’s not going to disappear before your eyes,” Ryan muttered. Then, in a moment of extreme irony, that is exactly what happened. The two men looked on in shock as the house seemed to disappear, its walls blending with the colour of the night sky and the trees surrounding it. CHAPTER 30 “What the hell?” Martin Henderson swore beneath his breath as the lights went out. He stepped away from the wall to begin feeling his way towards the doorway but the house was pitch black and he could barely see his own hand in front of his face. The circuit had blown again, he thought, which was hardly surprising when a couple of old crackpots insisted on living like Victorian throwbacks rather than relying on the National Grid like the rest of the known world. The sooner he could get away from here, the better. His fingers brushed against the architrave on the doorway and he began to retrace his steps using the wall as a guide, no longer concerned about keeping his meeting at nine o’clock. He only hoped the other person was having as much trouble as he was, finding their way through the maze of rooms in the old house. When his fingers touched nothing but air, he realised he’d reached the turning to lead him back into the small hallway outside the bedrooms and the morning room, and the lift shaft was somewhere over his left shoulder. Blind without any light source, Henderson’s other senses were heightened considerably. He shivered as he stepped in front of the doors to the lift shaft, feeling an icy breath of wind brush against his cheeks. His brain was slow to compute the fact and he did not realise the implication until it was too late. The doors were open. The figure stepped out in front of him, barely making a creak against the floorboards but it was enough to alert him to the presence of another. “For The Valiant,” they whispered. Two firm hands came up to thrust against his chest and

Reverend Ingles,” she said, managing a half-smile for the Anglican vicar of Lindisfarne. Mike Ingles was well-matched to his profession, both in temperament and looks. He was reasonably tall and trim but with the slight paunch of a man who enjoyed being middle-aged. Salt and pepper grey hair was neatly combed, and mild brown eyes peered at her from behind jazzy red glasses—a nod to fashion which contrasted with the bobbled olive-green jumper he wore over his collar with brown chinos

part,

He lifted one tentative hand to cradle her face and watched her eyes darken. Another hand turned her, lifted her face to bestow the gentlest of kisses. As her hands lifted to frame his face, tracing the rough stubble she found there, she felt his momentary shock and it made her reckless. Her fingers arrowed into his black hair to pull him closer, urging him to go on. There was a battle waging inside him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt the desperation in the kiss, could still taste the salty tears on her skin.

There is something in the human spirit that will survive and prevail; there is a tiny and brilliant light burning in the heart of man that will not go out, no matter how dark the world becomes.” – Leo Tolstoy

He was waiting for her when she arrived back at the little white-washed cottage just before eight-thirty, as she had known he would be. She watched Ryan push away from where he had been leaning against the porch and allowed herself a moment to appreciate him. His dark hair whipped wildly around his face in the morning breeze, and the ends brushed the collar of his navy jacket.

as soon as you pluck a weed, another one springs straight up to take its place. There’ll always be somebody else to do the killing, the raping, the assault, the stealing…you name it.” Phillips could only remind him of why he continued to pluck the weeds. “Without you and me, and all the others who stand for what’s good and right in the world, they’d have free rein,” Phillips said. “You can’t change how other people think, or what they do, but you can try to prevent them from doing it again, that’s for sure. You can protect the public from further harm.

I’m packin’ on the protein,” Phillips said, indignantly. “That’s what all the bodybuilders do, before they shred off the fat and reveal a six-pack that’s been lurkin’ underneath. I’m carb-loadin’, too, because I’ve got this Dance-Off to think about, and the last thing I need is to run out of energy.

You're a regular decorated emergency The bruises and contusions will remind me what you did when you wake You've earned your place inside the ICUs hall of fame The camera caught you causing a commotion on the gurney again

I don't love you, I'm just passing the time You could love me if I knew how to lie But who could love me? I am out of my mind

But I'm sure I didn't ruin her Just made her more interesting

to place humanity on a pedestal was to be perennially disappointed.

Let’s see. We met at the café in Barter Books—you know the place?” It was one of the best bookshops in the world, in Ryan’s humble opinion,

I’m grateful for your time; this has been very informative.” Lin’s shoulders sagged with relief, though she couldn’t have explained why. “Not at all,” she said. “Now, come along next week with your first chapter and we’ll have a look at it. I’m sure it isn’t half as bad as you might think.” Anna knew that she would not be returning the following week, nor any week after. It was small wonder people lived in fear of shadows, she thought, when those they trusted to guide them were so quick to issue judgment and disdain.

She stood there for a moment or two with her eyes closed, feeling the unexpected warmth against her skin, and when she reopened them, they were full of purpose.

It is not in the stars to hold our destiny, but in ourselves.

Love Actually

Atta girl,” MacKenzie said. When Samantha stepped back into the room, she found the two women engrossed in the movie, their faces entirely too placid to be trusted. “What did I miss?” “Hugh Grant dancing,” MacKenzie replied, and left it at that.

You either commit to the stottie, or you don’t,” she said, gravely, and took a huge bite of her own to prove the point. “It’s a way of life.

That gadgie’ll be geet radgie if he gets a spelk while he’s on the netty—easy-peasy.

a heart that had not only been broken but entirely, irreparably stolen from his chest, leaving only a bare cavity where it should have been. Emily had taken that with her, when she’d departed the world.

Jesus.

people using the same methods we see in other areas, like County Lines.

He had seen too much of life and of what one person was capable of doing to another, to believe in a deity which could allow that to happen.

asphalt

Those quiet, stolen moments away brought her peace from the rest of the world and allowed her to commune with her God. Not that there had ever been any answer. In any other sphere of life, talking to yourself for sixty years would be grounds for committal.

that it would

now filmed white and stared unseeingly towards the new dawn.

Okay,” Ryan nodded and favoured her with one of his best smiles. Liz may have been nearly twice his age, but she still recognised a fine man when she saw one. She banked down a giggle and offered him a matronly smile in return. “I’d

What does this Doctor Taylor look like, Ryan?” “I hardly feel that’s relevant, sir,” he prevaricated. “On the contrary, I believe it could be very relevant,” Gregson replied. “Doctor Taylor is twenty-eight, I believe. She is approximately five feet eight inches tall, with dark brown hair and eyes.” “I hear she’s a looker.” Ryan

Not after seeing Denise MacKenzie in full, glorious technicolour. “Could have happened to anyone,” was all he said, looking away. “Always seems to happen to you, doesn’t it?” She brushed past him haughtily and helped herself to a coffee. Ryan sidled up to his friend and clucked his tongue sympathetically. “Got a temper on her, that one,” he said under his breath. “You can say that again,” Phillips said heatedly. “A temper and, if you don’t mind me saying, an excellent arse.” “You can say that…” Phillips cleared his throat and brushed some lint from his jacket. “I couldn’t possibly comment. Like a perfect gent, I averted my eyes.” “Like hell you did,” Ryan said. Phillips warred with himself for a nanosecond. “Mighty fine arse,” he said gruffly. “Shame she’s got a tongue like a poisoned dagger.

Not only did MacKenzie have an excellent arse, he decided, she had an excellent eye for detail.

Winter was an unforgiving time on Holy Island. Harsh winds from the North Sea whipped through the cobbled streets between the squat, stone cottages which huddled together as if for warmth. Above the village the Priory loomed, crippled but still standing after a thousand years.

He turned and left Helen Mathieson in MacKenzie’s capable hands.

eyes to find Frank sleeping peacefully beside her. But the scent of diesel invaded her nostrils and the dream evaporated, leaving only blunt reality. Her mind was shockingly awake and would not be fooled. The car wound its way up and over a steep hill. MacKenzie’s stomach heaved and she recognised the symptoms of shock: she was shivering uncontrollably whilst also sweating profusely. Her head felt fuzzy and it was as if she were floating above her own body, watching another woman she barely recognised. She sucked air through her teeth, chest tight with anxiety. Her bowels wanted to loosen

possible but, in the case of two of the

about

Lindisfarne Priory is the site of the earliest known Anglo-Saxon Christian monastery. Irish monks settled here in 635 AD following an invitation from Oswald, the Northumbrian king who has been the inspiration for characters such as Aragorn in Lord of the Rings,” Bowers’ voice rang out clearly as he brought history to life for a group of children from the local school on the island. “Northumbria was the largest kingdom in Britain at that time, so it was very powerful.

ground. The material of her blouse had been torn at the arms and had been smoothed out in a fan around them. Her legs, still clad in navy blue trousers, were drawn together neatly with the toes of her plain black shoes pointing forward. No, he realised, looking at the scene again and thinking of the note. Not a ballerina. Whoever did this had given her wings. * * * The next book in the DCI Ryan series, Angel, is due to be released in August 2016.

her,

and the Gilberts

there and

Unlike my family, she added silently, thinking of the stale

I say he hurled himself into the sea because he couldn’t live with what he’d done.” Anger burned briefly in his friendly face but was quickly snuffed out when another patron called out to him. He snapped the beard back into place. “Turned out he’d mortgaged the pub to the hilt. There were massive debts to clear, so they sold the old cottage to Mark Bowers. He rents it out to holiday-makers now. The girls were happy to sell the pub on to me with the

not all those who wander are lost.

alibied for the nights Guy Sullivan and Kate Robson were murdered.

late and Helen was tired, so she went to bed around

her

And the alcohol makes me not care that I’m painting stuff that would make even Bob Ross groan, were he still alive.

Got a ripe one, here,” he began, in his usual tasteless fashion. Whipping off the paper sheet, they were faced with the decomposing body of what had once been a woman. “I can tell you straight away that this lady did not die as Mother Nature intended.” MacKenzie looked up from the waste with a gleam in her eye. “Don’t tease me, Jeff.” The man flushed again. “Ah, um. Well. As you can see, she’s decaying rapidly which can make it difficult to pick up on nuances, but there is one little thing,” he said, gesturing for them to move closer to the body. “Just here, on her neck.

Her skin crawled, icy tentacles snaking up her back as the line between past and present blurred for a painful moment.

elevator

She was doing her ends about the damage

wackos

other religions including Christianity consider the date an important one.” “Aye,

corralled into coming here

to lay the smack down?” That

hood

Wherever you look in pagan history, you’ll find a harmless old ceremonial ground now has a church built over it, or it’s been otherwise claimed by an ‘orthodox’ religion.

the number was disengaged.

180 to 200 pounds—which

the words of our Lord were unambiguous.” “And

high school graduation picture.

perp

thrift shop.

go-to

lit out of there

get a hustle on,

nicking off with

gurneys

cardinal blue

Well, fancy meeting you here,” he boomed, tucking the white stick back into his

purchases of

ask the next, highly personal question on his mind. Sensing his indecision, Ryan smiled and took pity on him. “Not yet,” he said. “What?” “The answer to your question is, ‘not yet’,” Ryan repeated. “Anna and I are looking forward to being parents, one day, but there isn’t any mad rush. Also—” He hesitated, unsure whether to discuss matters that were so close to the heart. Then again, Frank was more than just his sergeant, or his friend. He was family. “The fact is, Frank, we’re not sure whether Anna will be able to have children.” Phillips put a hand on his friend’s arm in silent support. “I’m sorry, lad,” he said quietly. “It was insensitive of me to ask. I never thought—” “No, neither did we,” Ryan said, and his lips twisted. “Keep your fingers crossed for us.” “Fingers, eyes and toes,” Frank promised. Ryan nodded, and let out the breath he’d been holding. “Right, shall we get this over with?” “Howay then,” Phillips said, reaching for the door. “Age before beauty.” * * * Margaret Bruce had the hollow-eyed look of a woman who hadn’t slept in four years. When she answered the door, she looked between the two detectives and clutched a hand to her throat. They knew, Ryan thought. Mothers always knew, long before he said the words “Mrs Bruce?” “Stuart!” she called out to her husband, who’d been sitting reading a paper in the living room.

down following a series of systemic failures, and

agree, there don’t appear to be aren’t any strangulation marks or other injuries that might have been inflicted by a third party.

However, he refused to dismiss Ryan as a suspect until a thorough forensic investigation had been completed

We earn our way in this life, son, and don’t you forget it. There’s them that have more, and them that have less,” he’d declared. “But you’re only a poor man if you choose to be. You just remember that, lad.

Darkness masked all kinds of misdeeds.

The streets were shadowed and empty, the misty outline of periodic street lamps shining their watery light through the thick sea fret that had rolled in and curled itself around the buildings, like tentacles.

She had been lovely, he thought. Petite, with dark curly hair worn in a playful bob and laughing green eyes which smiled up at the camera. He wondered if it was the fact that her features were even; the kind of generic, symmetrical beauty, which made hers the kind of face that people found familiar.

journalist interview an attractive blonde woman

her. Her clothes were missing. “Careful, weren’t you?” Ryan murmured. Eyes tracking, always tracking, he moved back to the entrance to guard the scene until the coastguards arrived. “Taking their sweet time,” he said, checking his watch. Nearly six-fifteen. It would be another forty minutes until police could get across to the island; calling out a helicopter from the RAF base on the mainland would take the same

Ten minutes into Ryan’s presentation, Paulson walked in, looking slightly distracted.

Ryan said he’d get Paulson to contact him as soon as he could.

I’m all for progress and improvement, but you can’t force things, you have to allow people to come around of their own volition. You can’t remove people’s right to choose or make their lives a misery if they don’t agree with you, or else all you’ve got is an empty win.” Moss