Murder in Whitechapel (The Judas Reflections)

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Authors: Aiden James,Michelle Wright

BOOK: Murder in Whitechapel (The Judas Reflections)
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"Aiden James is a master storyteller... Out-freaking-standing-excellent!"
~ Detra Fitch of Huntress Reviews, for
Plague of Coins

"We are watching a master at work."
~ J.R. Rain, Bestselling Author of the
Vampire for Hire
series

 
  1. Start Reading
  2. About Aiden James
  3. About Michelle Wright
  4. A Taste of
    "The Judas Reflections: Curse of Stigmata"
    , by Aiden James & Michelle Wright
  5. A Taste of
    "Cades Cove"
    , by Aiden James
  6. More Books from Curiosity Quills Press
  7. Full Table of Contents

CADES COVE SERIES

Cades Cove

The Raven Mocker

 

THE TALISMAN CHRONICLES

The Forgotten Eden

The Devil’s Paradise

 

GHOSTHUNTERS 101 SERIES

Deadly Night

The Ungrateful Dead

 

THE DYING OF THE DARK SERIES

The Vampires’ Last Lover

The Vampires’ Birthright

Blood Princesses of the Vampires

Scarlet Legacy of the Vampires

(Coming summer 2013)

 

THE JUDAS CHRONICLES

Plague of Coins

Reign of Coins

Destiny of Coins

The Dragon Coin

(Coming summer 2013)

 

WITH J.R. RAIN

Temple of the Jaguar

Treasure of the Deep

Pyramid of the Gods

(Coming summer 2013)

 

COLLECTIONS

Terror at Midnight

Dark Legacy

Twice Bitten

Pray for Daylight

Cursed Immortals

In the Dead of Night

Dying of the Dark Vampires

Vampires, Ghosts, and God

CAPPUCCINO HEAVEN SERIES

Cappuccino Heaven: A Life After Death

LOST

 

DEAD DREAMS TRILOGY

Dead Dreams

 

WITH J.R. RAIN & SCOTT NICHOLSON

Ghost Hall (Ghost Files #4)

For what profits a man if he gains the whole world but loses his own soul?

Matthew 16.26

London 1888.

here was a time, long ago, when I hung myself with remorse. An act I considered justified in exchange for the betrayal of my good friend Jesus of Nazareth. My gain? Thirty pieces of silver and, my curse? To become immortal, forced to roam for eons of time while many learned scholars attempted to debunk what really happened to me. Rumors abounded through the centuries about my demise, some laughable, others close to the truth, whilst I continued to wander through centuries neither growing old nor dying. I had, with misfortune, met the sharp blades of knives, a bullet and various types of torture contraptions. None succeeded in killing me. Instead, after a quick recovery, I was restored.

But the curse of greed remained. With good faith, I attempted to shake my desire for money, and failed miserably as I amassed many fortunes in short spaces of time. Of course, I had the advantage of longevity in which to learn how to perfect the finer points. Each venture becoming more successful than the last. Short of blowing my own trumpet, I admit to being expert in many skills and, having the good fortune to prosper in England, my residence for over eighty years, I created many new business ventures, bought and sold many properties.

My friend, and fellow immortal, Roderick Cooley walked the earth on and off with me for seventeen hundred years, until settled on his fine plantation in Virginia. I began a campaign of letters and telegrams six months ago. I needed Roderick to come in as a partner on a lucrative business opportunity. Having sold my existing business for a tidy sum, I planned on expanding my wealth considerably.

My name, Judas Iscariot, is not used for my current residence; I much preferred the alias of Emmanuel Ortiz for appearances. It suited well; I had many pseudonyms, a master in all disguises with a penchant for excitement. In the midst of my business dealings I found another, far more sinister path I wished to take - my intrigue heightened after reading various newspaper reports.

My latest purchase was a splendid Regency home in the heart of London’s Belgravia. It afforded a true gentleman’s lifestyle with all the trappings my heart desired. Party invitations became a regular occurrence shortly after I acquired my new address, giving me the opportunity to mingle with London’s elite upper class society on a regular basis. My new import business flourished as England opened its doors to new tastes and delights from foreign lands. In came cotton, gold, diamonds, tea, spices, flax, and opium with abundance. I didn’t care to admit to my clandestine operations: to supply the opium dens of London alongside the respectful supplies to pharmaceutical companies who turn them into Laudanum.

We all have a secret or two and I had plenty. For example, who I
really
am and why I was fixated and enthralled with Jack the Ripper. News of his hideous crimes spread far and wide, to America and beyond. I wanted to meet the chap head-on and stop him. But the lure of lavishness and excess had overtaken and distracted me for such a long time I was unsure of my commitment.

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