Authors: John Locke
Kill Jill
(A Love Story)
By
John Locke
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
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KILL JILL
Copyright © 2012
John Locke
. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without the express written permission of the author. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the author or publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.
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ISBN: 978-1-939337-37-5 (eBook)
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ISBN: 978-1-939337-39-9 (Paperback)
Version 2013.05.20
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JOHN LOCKE:
NEW YORK TIMES
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Charlaine Harris, Lee Child, Suzanne Collins, Michael Connelly)
First self-published author to hit #1 on Amazon/Kindle!
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Sold 1,100,000 eBooks in 5 months through word of mouth!
Wrote and published 6 best-selling books in 3 separate genres in 6 months!
Had 4 of the top 10 eBooks on Amazon/Kindle at the same time, including #1 and #2!
Had 6 of the top 20, and 8 books in the top 43 at the same time!
John Locke has written 17 books in three years, all best-sellers!
John Locke
New York Times Best Selling Author
#1 Best Selling Author on Amazon Kindle
Donovan Creed Series:
Emmett Love Series:
Dani Ripper Series:
Dr. Gideon Box Series:
Non-Fiction:
How I Sold 1 Million eBooks in 5 Months!
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Part Three: A Beer and a Sandwich
Part Four: A Grease Pen, a Hog Pen, a Tow Truck, and a Plan
Willow Lake, Arkansas.
7:55 a.m.
The heavy fog that holds Willow Lake hostage most mornings usually burns off around eight-thirty. Since that’s a half-hour away, Frank the cab driver relies on the strident electronic voice of his GPS navigation system that directs him to follow Route 53 North for another mile. He does so, then turns left on Front Street, right on Trimble, and from there it’s two blocks to Fillmore’s Grocery and Dry Goods Store. He pulls into the empty parking lot, selects a space, and cuts the engine.
A moment later, the back door opens.
Frank’s lone passenger, a lady, slides out.
Mavis Fillmore peers out her store window and becomes the first person in Willow Lake to get a look at the newcomer. She mentally appraises the woman as thirty, extremely attractive, citified, shapely. She’s also wearing clothes that, while stylish, appear to be covered with grass and soot stains. As if she slept in them last night, in a field, after cleaning a fireplace. Her hair’s unkempt. She’s not carrying a purse. When she turns to say something to the cab driver, Mavis notices a thick envelope poking out the back pocket of her skin-tight jeans.
“New customer,” Mavis sniffs.
Her husband, Ziff, looks up from his paper and says, “
This
time of year?”
“Pulled up just now. In a
cab
, no less.”
“Man or woman?”
Mavis gives him a stern look and says, “Let me put it this way. I catch you starin’ at her ass or boobs you’ll have to come up with a new way to piss.”
