The book automatically gets at least 4 stars because of these two parts: 
 p. 133-34 
 "By the next Wednesday I was up, so I took Amy to prayer meeting. Being a school teacher, she kind of had to put in an appearance at those things, now and then, and I sort of enjoy 'em. I pick up lots of good lines at prayer meetings. I asked Amy, I whispered to her, how she'd like to have a little manna on her honey. And she turned red, and kicked me on the ankle. I whispered to her again, asked her if I could Mose-y into her Burning Bush. I told her I was going to take her to my bosom and cleave unto her, and anoint her with precious oils." 
 p. 189 
 "He was sort of skipping, jerky, rather than running or walking. He was skipping and tossing his head, and his hair was flying. And he still had his elbows held in at his sides, with his hands doing that funny floppy dance, and he kept saying - it was louder now - that old siren was warning up - he kept saying, kind of screaming: 
 'Yeeeee! Yeeeeee! Yeeeeeeeeee. . . !' 
 He was skipping and flopping his hands and tossing his head like one of those holy roller preachers at a brushwood's revival meeting. 'Yeeeing!' and gone-to-Jesus and all you miserable sinners get right with Gawd like I went and done. 
 That dirty son-of-a-bitch! How low down can you get?" 
 OH MAH GAWD, AMAZING! 
 I wish that I had read The Killer Inside Me about ten years ago, when I was in my late teens and of a more angry and misanthropic nature, and my favorite books were The Torture Garden, American Psycho, and Crash. But it don't mean I still don't like a good well-written yarn narrated by a murderous sociopath. Oh man, I am so pleased to have read it.