The Life and Times of Judith Fletcher

By Xlibris US

Youre walking down the street late at night and someone gives you a book. It has your name on it. Inside is your life story, from birth to death. Would you flip open the cover or leave the book to rot?
Judith Fletcher is given one such book and she decides to read it. The ability to relive her entire life is both a blessing and a curse, but she sticks with it to the end. Finally, she is left with a choice. Does she change the ending or sit back and let the fates decide

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 21, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499051926

Book preview

Copyright © 2014 by Tori Tucker.

ISBN:      Softcover      978-1-4990-5193-3

                eBook           978-1-4990-5192-6

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 07/15/2014

Xlibris LLC

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

635919

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Acknowledgements

Genius is one percent inspiration, ninety-nine percent perspiration.—Thomas Edison

For Emily, Olivia, and Shaylei,

without whom this story wouldn’t have gotten past that one percent.

Thank you for your love and support!

Chapter 1

The rain-drenched pavement glistened in the dim lamplight. It was nearly two in the morning and the city streets were mostly deserted. A blonde woman of slight build stumbled along the road, wobbling in her cheap stilettos. As she ambled into the lamplight she pulled her worn leather jacket tighter about her slim frame. It was her only protection against the chill of the early spring night. Her skirt was short and tight, her shirt, sheer and small. Her features seemed gaunt and drawn in the light. Her face held a sort of dilapidated beauty, like a flower nearly ready to drop all its petals at the slightest touch. Perhaps it was because of the way it looked like it was caving in on itself, like that of someone who hadn’t seen a proper meal in a while, or rather because of the heavy paint she wore to mask this.

Directly under the streetlight, she leaned against its post, her hand on the small of her back. She closed her eyes a moment and breathed in the cool night air before reaching down and wrenching off a shoe. She grimaced at the dried, sticky blood inside it.

Long night? asked a smooth voice from the darkness. The woman whirled around, wielding her shoe as a weapon, but nearly collapsing in the process.

The speaker chuckled and stepped into the beam of the adjacent streetlight.

You’ve no need to fear me Jude.

The woman’s heavily painted eyes narrowed in suspicion, but she did not lower her stiletto.

I’m sorry, do I know you? she asked haughtily, although it was a foolish question as she was sure she would remember such a peculiar looking person. He appeared to be homeless. He wore a filthy, patched trench coat over what had at one time probably been a very fashionable pinstriped suit. He had dark, hollow features and hooded green eyes. His thick scruffy beard and long curtain of greasy hair screened his face, and he wore a dirty black fedora, not unlike what a 1930’s mobster might wear. He was relatively young, probably in his early thirties, like the woman, and may have been quite handsome if cleaned up a bit. He flashed her what might have been a charming smile and clasped his hands in front of him.

I’m afraid you don’t know me Jude, but I know you.

The woman snorted in what her mother would have said was an unladylike way and lowered her shoe slightly.

So what? You some kind of stalker? How do you know my name?

Still smiling, the man shook his head and took a few steps towards her into the deserted street. He plunged a hand into the inside pocket of his trench coat. Jude raised her shoe in defense once more expecting him to pull out . . . what? A knife? A gun? What would it matter? It would be an easy job for him to overpower her. Instead he pulled out a small, black, leather bound book, and offered it to her. She laughed and let her arm fall to her side.

What? Are you some kind of a fuckin’ book dealer or something? He smirked and raised an eyebrow at her.

Take it. Jude rolled her eyes.

Listen buddy, thanks and all, but I’m not much of a reader. The man’s gaze softened.

"I realize reading’s not exactly a main part of your profession, but—" She huffed, obviously offended now.

Hey bub, I don’t know where the hell you get your information—

"Take the book Jude." He said it with such authority that she immediately snapped her mouth shut. Quickly, and without taking her eyes off his, she grabbed the book.

"Read it, and quickly. There isn’t much time."

Jude furrowed her brow and looked down at the plain black book.

What do you . . . her voice trailed off as she looked up to find the street quite empty. Her mouth agape, she looked up and down the deserted street, and then back down at the black book in her trembling hands, the only remaining sign of her encounter.

There was nothing printed on the cover; no title or author: So she flipped it open to the title page. She gasped, and her face drained of what little color it had as she read the words printed there in clear black and white:

The Life and Times of Judith Fletcher

Alistair Cannon

Panicked now, Jude looked up and down the street again. The hair stood up on the back of her neck. Then, like thunder, the strange man’s voice shook the street.

"GO!"

Without a second thought, Jude hastily pocketed the book, shed her other shoe and sprinted up the street, splashing through freezing puddles in bare feet.

Chapter 2

When she reached her apartment Jude fumbled with her keys, nearly dropping them twice, but finally managing to unlock the door and rush inside. She slammed it shut and locked the deadbolt behind her, then fell back against the wall, frightened and exhausted. Halfheartedly chucking her shoes in the general direction of her bedroom, she shuffled into the living area. She flipped the light switch as she walked into the room, but nothing happened. She flipped it twice with more force.

Shit . . . Not again . . . She groaned, slamming her palm against the wall. Her electricity was shut off for the third time this year. She stalked over to a table, opened its drawer, and began to pull out candles. She set thirteen of them on the table before reaching into the pocket of her jacket to retrieve a battered, green cigarette lighter. She lit each candle before replacing the lighter in the pocket. As she did her hand brushed against the soft, cool cover of the book. She shakily extracted it from her pocket. Jude stared at it a moment before picking up two of the candles in one hand and crossing to the couch. She set the candles down, and then the book between them. Once more she flipped to the title page and stared down at the name. It was probably just a weird coincidence. After all, she didn’t exactly have an uncommon name.

Hell, there was probably some poor bastard wandering around with the name Harry Potter somewhere . . . Jude thought with a smirk. But then how did that guy know what I am? Jude pondered a moment more before flipping to chapter one. She took a sharp breath as she read the name of the chapter.

Chapter 1: Sunshine

Tears welled in her eyes as she began to read.

Judith Fletcher was the light of her father’s life. A beautiful child with radiant blonde hair and eyes of sky blue, little Jude was, without question, her father’s favorite child.

Jude paused a moment and held her head in her hands. The fear and confusion that had welled up inside her all night finally broke free as she allowed the silent tears to fall down her cheeks.

Come along now! Your mother will be waiting for us. The handsome young man stood in the middle of a green field, holding out a waiting hand to a small blonde girl. She giggled and ran to him as fast as her