Mickey Josephson
Author's Bio
Mickey Josephson
1413 L Ron Hubbard Way(student.)
Los Angeles, 90027
micksbookshelf@yahoo.com
http://stores.lulu.com/micksbookshelf
727 459 2445
About the Author
Wrote and produced an off Broadway musical comedy entitled, Bagels, a story about a family which comes from Russia to the U.S., and who invents The New York Bagel and sells it to America.
Other Credits include: Screenplay, Path of Deception, a crime fiction drama, Alice and Henry, a romantic comedy, and Big Mouth, a teen thriller. Recently completed
Screenplays include, The Bag Men, a crime fiction story, Saint Raymond, a
Comedy, and Hey, Look Who is Running The World, A sci-fi comedy.
Books Published: Path of Deception, a crime fiction story. The Bag Men, a crime fiction story, and The X film, a political thriller.
http://stores.lulu.com /micksbookshelf, or Amazon.
The X film
Synopsis
Angel Starr, alias Angele Durande and Michelle Simpson, was born in Cane River
Louisiana to Jacque Durande, a Parisian Frenchman, and Na isha Goodspeed, her Apache mother.
She went to George Washington University in DC, studied psychology, smoked weed, and then she graduated to Italian stogies—opium, and was thrown out of school. She then became a prostitute to support her habit. Her customers were primarily politicians looking for a good time—and they got one, and became movie stars in Angel’s hit movie, The X film.
Fortunately, Angel got tipped off prior to her leading men on Capitol Hill closing her brothel down and flew to off Amsterdam with the X film safely hidden—until, they sent someone to find her. . . .
The X film
by
Mickey Josephson
Copyrighted August 14, 2011 Mickey Josephson d/b/a Mickey’s Book Shelf. Registered Writers Guild West October 25, 2012
AUTHORS NOTES
Every dominant group during any past civilization has never been able to sustain constant authority over it populous—Ganges Khan, the Ottoman Empire, Alexander the Great and others have all failed. Not for lack of skills or resources—for God knows they all had abundance of both, but rather for lack of ethics and morality. And now it may be our turn to experience similar fate.
Note:
The characters portrayed in The X Film are fictional, any resemblance to people living or dead are purely coincidental.
Chapter 1
Amsterdam, Netherlands.
The Present
Angel Starr, a lady of the night, first saw Mr. Henry Quick looking in Madam Von Asch’s brothel window. She knew what this man wanted—he had been looking for her, and she for him.
He stood at the window gazing at her high cheek bones and jet black hair. He appeared satisfied that she was the woman he wanted.
“Ows much?” his German-Yiddish voice asked.
She smiled, raised her bust and said, “That is to be arranged, fatso.”
A train whistle blew and the tall, red headed Mr. Quick nodded then walked away. She frowned, and then she stepped through the rear door into Mrs. Von Asch’s brothel.
“That old German-Jew won’t come back dear-y,” an old cockney voice cried out.
She gaped at the older woman lying prostate on the faded red couch and said,
“Hey old bitch, he’s the one I’ve been looking for, he’ll be back.”
The woman rose from the couch wagging her head and said,
“Angel, dear-y, stop dreaming.”
The brothel entrance door opened.
“Blimey,” the woman said.
“Come in old man,” Angel called out.
The tall, red headed man entered and the old woman left.
“Sit down.”
He reclined on the couch.
“I’ve been looking for zu.”
“And I you.”
“You know vhy I’m here?” he asked.
“I don’t know—can you have sex?” she asked.
He roared, a door opened behind them.
“Would you come in here, sir,” a well dressed woman called out.
“Mrs. Von Asch, the boss, handles all the sex business,” Angel said.
She drew close to him, “And I handle the other business.”
“Of Courze,” he whispered.
They sat down in Mrs. Von Asch’s office and Angel lit an Italian stogy and said,
“This man’s been looking for me all his life.”
“How nice,” Mrs. Von Asch said, that’ll be a thousand Euros Mr. Quick; we take Credit Cards, US Dollars, or Euros.”
“But of course, I vant Angel zu spend a week with me in Oosterbeek,” he said—handing her euros.
“Oosterbeek,” the Madam said, curiously.
“At za Zilderberg hotel.”
“We can do it anywhere,” Angel interrupted.
Mrs. Von Asch handed him a receipt.
“Get ready Angel,” Mrs. Von Ash said, commandingly.
Henry went to the door, opened it and said,
“Meet me at 12 pm zis afternoon at za train station and zont be late Angel Starr.”
He left.
Angel went to her room and opened the closet door, saw her Louie Cardin shoes lying across the closet floor and pushed them aside, a trap door lie beneath. She opened it and removed two metal cases lying in the well.
“Angel,” she heard Mrs. Von Asch’s voice cry out.
Quickly, she set the cases back into the well and opened the front door.
“Here’s your money,” Mrs. Von Asch said—looking over her shoulder. “So you are moving out, I thought there was something more than sex going on with this. . . Mr. Quick.
At 12 noon Angel went into the postal office by the train station and told the clerk, “I want you to store these two metal cases, safely.”
“Certainly, Madam,” the postal clerk replied.
She handed him ten euros and said she wanted the cases shipped to Washington DC sometime in the future. A train whistle blew, she signed the necessary forms and left.
Henry sported a cane and she twirled an umbrella boarding the train to Arnham, a short distance from Oosterbeek later in the day. The train arrived on time and Henry’s chauffeured limousine waited at the train station for them
“Put za ladies luggage in za trunk, Max,” Henry said to his limousine driver. A chubby round, faced man who quickly took the bags, glanced at Angel and put them inside the trunk.
Henry pointed to the tulips along the countryside as they drove off toward Oosterbeek.
“Puzzy cat,” He said.
“What Henry?” she asked.
He smiled, and then he quickly removed a wine bottle and two glasses from the cabinet opposite them and turned to her.
“Why the Zilderberg hotel, Henry?” she asked.
“Hmm—memories,” he said, “Cheerz,” —and then he poured the wine.
“Memories,” she uttered—lighting a stogy and crossing her legs. He gave her a peck on the cheek and she smiled. He licked his chops, and then she wrapped her arm around his and brought the glass to her lips and whispered,
“You will have the most pleasurable experience of your life with me Henry,” she whispered.
“I hope zo,” he replied—breathing heavy. “Lez not vait.”
“Well, you don’t have to, “I’ll give you a preview of what’s in the X film,” she said—closing the front-rear-shade divider.
The train’s whistle blew and the lights went out.
To read more go to:
http://stores.lulu.com/micksbookshelf
@yahoo.com
