Prequel to Pathway to Freedom Broken and Healed: Book Two The Raw Truth – The Land of Ago Is Now – What Went Before – The Storm Shelter #Blindness #DomesticViolence #MentalIllness #Memoir

Prequel to Pathway to Freedom Broken and Healed: Book Two The Raw Truth – The Land of Ago Is Now – What Went Before – The Storm Shelter #Blindness #DomesticViolence #MentalIllness #Memoir

The Land of Ago Is Now – What Went Before

October 2012

*** Note!

Not read the first of the series?

Read the first episode here.

By Patty L. Fletcher

July 19, 2023

Moon Phase – Waxing Crescent

From Patty:

Hello Friends and Readers around the world.

I hope this post finds you well.

As I type this to you, I begin a celebration. Today, makes two years, since I boarded an airplane and flew back to The Seeeing Eye® for my second guide.

Now, here I am, with my Big, Blue dog who naps peacefully after several walks, various play sessions, and I’m more whole than I’ve ever been in my life.

In honor of saidanniversary I’ve decided to give you a bonus in the Pathway to Freedom Broken and Healed: Book Two The Raw Truth series.

Let’s step back in time, to refresh your memory of how I got to the point which leads us forward from Book One How a Seeing Eye® Dog Retrieved My Life Second Edition to the beginning of Book Two: The Raw Truth.

Watch your step as you walk along the Pathway to Freedom. For there are many dark places along the way.

“It’s the Possibility of Darkness which makes the day seem so bright.”

Susanna Dean of Wolves of the Calla by Stephen King – Audiobook – Audible.com

Audible

“Is this really happening? Is Donnie really going to prison just because of a box of dirty pictures? Surely not. My Goddess! He says they’re not even his. How can someone go to jail for storing a box for their brother they never even looked at? He’s telling the truth, right? He didn’t really do the things those kids said. Goddess, please say he didn’t?”

Those questions tumbled over and over in my head as I sat there, emptying yet another glass of rum and watching the destruction of Hurricane Sandy unfold on TV.

It seemed to me there was a similar storm happening in Kingsport, Tennessee, but nobody knew it. Nobody who mattered anyhow.

“I hope Drew’s okay. Sure do wish I could get him to answer me. Oh, how I miss him. We used to talk all the time, but those days are over. When I started changing, why didn’t he ask me about it? Why the hell did I write and try to tell him what was going on anyway? I’d already started ruining things. Already let him see the messed-up part of me. What the hell is wrong with me? Why do I have to be such a fuck-up? Maybe if I message him and ask if he’s okay, he’ll answer, you know? Just to say, ‘Yeah, don’t worry. We’re all right.’”

Then, maybe after this storm is over, he might be willing to talk to me, and I can explain my weirdness, and maybe, just maybe, we can fix what I destroyed.

Going into my little office, I turned on my computer and opened my email. I typed in the combination phone number and code for texting I used via email because I didn’t have a cell phone with an accessible voice over. I wrote, “All okay there? Please let me know you’re okay.”

I waited, but there was no answer. Had I thought there would be?

I got unsteadily to my feet and stumbled to the file cabinet in the corner. Opening the bottom drawer, I took out the bag of weed and the pipe I kept hidden there. I plunked a good-sized chunk of green into the bowl, thumbed it into place, and after putting the bag away and grabbing my lighter, I staggered back to the Living room with my laptop.

I’d have one hell of a hangover the next day, and I knew it. But at that moment, I couldn’t have cared less. My heart was breaking. Life as I knew it was falling to pieces, just the same as it was for all those caught in the path of that God-awful storm up north. I couldn’t stand the pain of it one more minute. I had to take shelter, and rum and weed seemed as good a place as any.

Sinking back in my chair, I began to listen to the storm reports as they came in, one horrible story after another. My body shook, and my tears fell as I sat there listening to the newscasters describing the horrifying yet somehow fascinating storm as it tore down everything in its path. In a way, I understood what those people were feeling.

No, my house wouldn’t be a pile of rubble when the storm I was currently caught in finally passed through, but there sure as hell wouldn’t be anything left of me or my old life once the savage winds stopped blowing.

I sat there smoking and drinking, sheltering myself from the storm raging all around me, trying to protect myself from the destruction that slammed into me from all sides. Trying to shut out the howling shriek of Donnie’s voice telling me how I’d be alone when he was gone, telling me how no one would want a thing to do with me if the whole truth came out about this mess. Trying to shut out the thundering violent darkness that always followed, and trying to pretend my latest bruises were really from having tripped over Campbell’s toys in the night and not from Donnie’s having grabbed and shaken me for all I was worth because I couldn’t help him keep his freedom. Pretending they weren’t from his punching me over and over in the stomach, screaming in my face, his spittle mixing with my tears.

“I helped you gain your independence. What the hell have you done for me? Damn you! If I’d never let you talk me into moving here, none of this would’ve ever happened.”

On and on that night went. I lit candles, tried to pray. Tried to ask the Goddess I was barely acquainted with back then to somehow keep me from the horror all around me. Begged her to keep Drew and all my friends up north safe, and Goddess help me, I texted. Somehow even though Drew had asked me to stop contacting him long before, I couldn’t. I wanted so badly to explain. I wanted him to understand. Most of all, I didn’t want him to hate me.

I drank, I smoked, and I sent message after message. I was filled with guilt, self-loathing, and terror, and I could not for the life of me stop, but as the night slipped toward day and all the storms raged, I finally passed out and slept.

When Campbell came to me about five that morning asking to go out, my head was roaring almost as loudly as the wind outside.

“Well, bug, it looks like we’re getting the first edges of the storm.” I stood stiffly from my recliner and gathered up the leavings from the night before.

After I’d put the bottle of rum safely back in the freezer and hidden my pipe away again, I took Campbell out, fed him, and began to get ready for work.

Once I’d showered, picked my clothes carefully to hide my own storm damage, and drank half a pot of the strongest coffee I could make, I was finally ready to go.

Putting Campbell in his harness, I said, “Bug, you know Daddy doesn’t mean to hurt me. He’s just so upset from all the bad stuff that’s happening, he can’t help it. Besides, mommy really shouldn’t talk back to him when he tells her what to do or corrects her for speaking when she ought to be quiet. Mommy’s okay, and I won’t let him hurt you. That’s how come I leave you up here in our house when I go downstairs now. That way, you don’t have to see all the bad stuff, and you’ll not be afraid.”

Petting him gently, I continued, “One day soon, all this will be over. We’ll somehow prove he didn’t do these awful things, he’ll calm down, stop snorting all those pills, and things can go back to the way they used to be. Daddy used to be a sweet guy. We used to laugh all the time, listen to great music, go to lots of places together, and have all kinds of fun. You’ll see, it’ll be okay again. I promise.”

Campbell just stood there, wagging his tail, licking my tears away, and loving me.

“Well, at least I kept it together long enough to get you. At least I have you, and no one can take you away from me. Can they?”

As the last question squeezed its way in through the crack in the door of the shelter, I was trying to build around my mind, I shivered. Kneeling, I flung my arms around Campbell’s neck.

“Oh, Goddess! Please don’t let them take my Bug away from me? Please don’t let it be true what Mike says about how they can take your harness? Please, Oh, Goddess, please? If I could talk to Drew, I could make him understand how I got so confused. If he knew how hard things are right now, he’d understand, and surely, he wouldn’t let them break up our team. He must know how much I love and need my dog. He must know I’d never let anything happen to Campbell, and surely, he wouldn’t come and try to take my Bubba away. They can’t really do that, can they? Oh! Goddess, please, no!”

I begged helplessly there on my knees, and as the frozen rain began to pound on the sliding glass door behind me, I was nearly lost to the terror of the raging storm.

Finally, I got myself under control, and after washing my face and redoing my hair, we made our way out into the furious blow of the storm and headed off to work.

By the time we crossed the two streets from our house to the bus stop, we were soaked. The wind blew frozen rain from all directions, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t shelter poor Campbell from it. But as always, his work was spot on, and though he shook himself mightily while the wind howled all around us and the rain pelted us from every side, he never wavered or complained. He kept going right on up to that bus stop as if it were any other day. As we stood there waiting again, I prayed.

“Goddess, please protect us. Don’t let them take Campbell from me. He’s absolutely all I’ve got left. He’s quite literally the only being who genuinely loves me, messed up or not. And I’ll die without him. Please? I’m sorry. I’ll try and do better. I’ll try to stop this madness that seems to have overtaken me, and I’ll try to be good. Just please, oh please, don’t let them take my boy.”

As the bus pulled up and we climbed aboard, I firmly slammed the door on my mind’s storm shelter, and this time it held.

By the time we made it to work, I’d gotten myself totally calmed down and sober. My mask was firmly in place, and I was ready for the day. All morning, as I dealt with a deluge of calls asking where to find out about victims of the storm, or folks in need of help of some kind, I kept my mask tightly fitted onto my face. But around eleven o’clock, a phone call came in that nearly ripped it right off.

I answered the phone in my usual upbeat voice. “2-11 Contact Concern, how may I help you?”

And just like that, the wind of domestic violence began to lash frantically into my face, and the mask I’d worked so hard to get and keep in place almost flew away.

I sat there listening to a woman’s hysterical voice tell me how her boyfriend would be back any minute, and if she didn’t get through to someone right now, he’d for sure kill her when he came back, and she was still there, or God forbid he caught her on the phone, and I thought I would scream. I knew if I didn’t get her through her story and transferred over to someone else, I would start screaming, and Goddess help me, I might not ever stop.

As if to literally hold my mask in place, I slammed my hand against my face and held it tightly there until she’d finished, and I’d succeeded in connecting her to the shelter where someone could help her. As I readied to disconnect, I heard myself say, “Ma’am, be sure you do what they tell you, and don’t stay with him. He’s not about to change, and no matter what he says, that’s the only truth you need to believe.”

As I shakily put the phone back into its cradle, I was relieved to see the next volunteer on duty had arrived. I took a couple of deep breaths to steady my voice. “Hi, glad you’re here; it’s been one hell of a morning. Can you take the phones for a minute? I’d like to take Campbell out before this storm gets any worse.”

The volunteer happily agreed, and I’d quickly harnessed up my pup and made my escape.

As we left the office, I turned us right, and we made our way down the hall to the fire escape stairs door. I couldn’t risk taking the elevator. I was afraid I’d run into someone when I got off on the first floor. At that moment, all I wanted was to walk my dog, smoke a cigarette, and get the mask of calmness back into place so I could go on with the rest of my day.

Making my way quickly down the steps, I began to cry. “Gods! How could you sit there and pretend like that? You’re nothing more than a stupid fake bitch. What is wrong with you? How could you say all those things, knowing you’re going to leave here in a little while and go home to Donnie and let him do to you the very same shit that man was doing to her?”

Slamming through the door out into the swirling rain and win I growled to myself, “It’s not the same. Donnie wouldn’t be like this if it weren’t for all the crap going on right now. Once all this is behind us, we’ll get some counselling, and everything will be okay again. Maybe he’s right.

Maybe we’ll even move, start all over, and things will be better than

before. We’ll get married, and everything will be okay. You just have to

hold on.”

As we rounded the corner, the force of the storm hit us full in the face.

For a moment, it seemed to me as if the wind wanted to rip me off the

ground, fling me into pieces, and toss me away. Just when I thought I might not regain my balance, Campbell in all his true Labrador form took control. For a moment, I forgot all about my upset and fear.

Just as we started out into the grass behind the bus shelter, which by now had turned into a vast muddy swamp, a flock of geese flew low over

our heads, honking and flapping for all they were worth. The wind carried their scent and noise right to Campbell’s snuffling nose and flopping

Labrador ears. As my tears continued to fall, he made the most God-awful keening noise I’ve ever heard, and then, he began to pull.

Before I could do more than get his leash, which I’d just lengthened to four feet so he could relieve himself hooked around my wrist, he started dragging me toward those honking, flapping geese with every ounce of his

strength. All I could do was plant my feet firmly in the mud and hold on for dear life.

He barked, howled, and hauled, and I yanked back, telling him as loudly as I could to be heard over the wind, “Campbell! Leave it! No! Pfui!”

I Finally got him stopped, but not before the both of us were soaking wet and muddy as could be. For a moment, I stood there in complete shock. As the geese flew away, Campbell looked up, gave the wind a

mighty sniff, and as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, began to

pee.

Oh, how I did laugh. There was nothing else to do. I stood there in the

driving rain, covered nearly to my knees in mud, with my hair plastered to my head and tears of hysteria running down my face, and laughed. For a

moment, my mind jabbered in a confusion of many voices much louder than the wind, and I thought I might be going absolutely insane. But

somehow, I got myself under control, and when Campbell was done, we

made our way back around to the door we’d gone out what seemed like an hour before. Punching in the code, I took us back inside. But we were too much of a mess to go upstairs, so after taking a few deep breaths to further calm myself, I called my supervisor on my cell phone and asked him if he

could take us home to change.

When he came down to see what had happened and got a look at us

standing there like drowned rats all covered in mud, he roared fit to burst with laughter. After I’d told him what had happened, including the

upsetting phone call that had driven us out into the storm in the first place,

he decided Campbell and I had had quite enough for one day and took us home.

Later that afternoon, after I’d groomed Campbell, had another shower,

and a couple of double shots of rum for courage, I left Campbell snoozing on my bed and went downstairs to see Donnie. I’d decided we had to talk about his anger and his lack of control. I knew I had to make him realize I was on his side, I wouldn’t leave him no matter what happened, and I was definitely not his enemy. I felt if I could do that, things would be okay for us, and we could somehow manage to get through this hell with

something of ourselves and the love we’d once had for each other in place.

When I got there, he let me in. I saw he was in a happy mood. The angry

monster from the night before was nowhere to be found.

He met me at the door with a kiss and a loving hug. “Oh, honey. I’m

so glad to see you. Honestly, I didn’t think you’d come home from work today. I’m so sorry about last night. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

I’ve called Frontier Health and made myself an appointment. My lawyer’s

right, I can’t go through all this without someone to talk to, and I can’t keep taking it out on you. Hell, you’re the only one who believes in me at

all. Can you forgive me?”

And just like that, he had me back in his web of deceit yet again. It

would be much later I’d learn what he’d told me had been nothing but

another lie. Honestly, if I’d been thinking with even one tiny corner of my rational mind, I’d have seen through it the very moment he spoke those words to me, but well, surely you see by now I was already very lost. Lost

in a world of unreality. Lost within so much of my own web of deceit, I

didn’t see anything clearly, let alone rationally.

All that fall and winter, life went on like that. As 2012 went out and 2013 came in, things got steadily worse.

Not only did I keep believing in him, I worked to help others believe in him too. To Polly, my daughter, I told only half the truth. I wanted to protect her at all costs. She had such a good life started for herself. She and Nathan had come through their own rough patch and were on their way through the other side of it. Her children, my grandchildren, were so beautiful and innocent. I didn’t want any of the nasty splatter from my mess to touch them, and if by some miracle we proved Donnie’s innocents and kept him out of jail, I didn’t want the relationship between him and my family ruined.

When Christmastime came at the end of 2012, Donnie bought me an engagement ring, and on Christmas Eve, I accepted his hand in Marriage.

I was so blinded by my need to have everything be all right, I never realized everything he did was only a cover, an act to make himself look good for the court, and even then, I meant nothing to him.

See, I still somehow loved him, or at least what I’d first known of him.

When we’d met, I was in a horrible place. I was seriously overweight, was living in total isolation, had lost nearly all my independence, and he’d been my knight in shining Armor. He’d taken me away from all the dark, dreary time. He had just as he’d said, helped me to regain my independence, and in fact, had helped me go far beyond anything I’d ever known I could be, and I loved him for it.

As I write this, I realize it was everything Donnie had given me that I truly loved. I knew somewhere deep within me by the time I accepted his ring, and most likely much earlier that the Donnie who had taken me out of those dark times no longer existed, and as I tell my tale, I honestly don’t know if he ever did at all.

I like to think so, I like to think because we’re created in Mother-Father God’s image: somewhere within him, there is true goodness. But knowing all I know of him now; I can’t be certain. I’m no longer sure what is real about those first memories and what isn’t. All I really know is meeting and falling in love with the Donnie I initially knew took me through a door into freedom, and no matter where else it has led me since, I still to this day have that.

During the first few weeks of 2013, life had calmed down for Donnie and me. He stopped hitting me, and other than a few serious bouts of depression for him, he seemed to be dealing with things a lot better.

Then just after the new year, everything went to hell. I’ve never seen things change so very quickly or entirely in all my days.

I’d taken the day off from work to go with Donnie to his lawyer’s office. We were going to meet and go over the evidence the prosecution had gathered against him. We had to decide whether he would take a plea deal and go to jail or if we would go to trial and let the chips fall where they would.

At the office there was some indecision as to whether I would be in on the discussion. After a brief talk between the two of them held out of my hearing, they decided I’d remain in the waiting area and join them later after they’d gone through everything. Warning sirens blared in my head, but once again, I shut them out and refused to hear.

After some time, Donnie came out front to get Campbell and me. As he helped me from the chair, he said in a shaky voice, “Honey, it’s bad. Before we go back there to talk, I must tell you I want you to understand and believe me when I say I had no idea what was in the box Anthony gave me to keep for him. If I’d known, I’d have never agreed to it. But after you hear what the lawyer’s got to say, if you want to leave, I won’t try and stop you.”

I folded my hand over his and, gathering all my strength and love, said

softly, “I’m wearing your ring. That means for better or worse, and I’m in it with you until the end.”

I want to stop right here and say if I’d known on this day what I’ve learned since I like to think I’d have never said it. I can’t tell you how many times since that day I’ve wished for just one do-over. Just one moment too rethink my decision, but honestly, I doubt I’d have done anything differently. I was still so very blinded to who and what Donnie was and is. I wanted to find out somehow all this horror was a lie. I wanted our happiness and love back, and I was damned determined to find it.

When we were all settled in the office, the lawyer explained everything to me. He told me there were over one hundred photos of various types in the box, and there was no way to determine for sure the persons in them were under the age of eighteen or not. He explained between the pictures and the statements from the young boys who claimed Donnie had molested them, if we went to trial, the chances of Donnie being convicted and sentenced to twenty-five years to life were huge. In his opinion, as a lawyer, Donnie’s best option was to take the plea deal that had been offered.

As I sat there listening, the one thought that kept going through my mind was, “I don’t care; if it were me and I were truly innocent, I’d take my chances.”

I said as much, too, but Donnie decided to take the plea deal. A few

days later, as we stood in the court of law and he was sentenced, I thought I would surely die. I couldn’t come to grips with the idea of Donnie in

prison. Even with all the anger he’d shown me, I couldn’t imagine someone like him managing one horrible night in such a place. I felt at that moment like some monstrous giant had taken hold of the world in which I lived, turned it upside down, and was shaking it, and chunks of my life we’re falling in flaming pieces all around me.

After the judge had given his final word on the subject, there was the

decision as to when Donnie would be taken into custody. In my last

misguided attempt to provide him with a reprieve, I asked if he couldn’t be given a bit of time to help me get things in order, so I would be able to continue living in our home and go on with my life. After some

back and forth discussion, it was decided Donnie could have until March to help me get things situated. Then he would begin serving his sentence

of ten years.

That one decision was absolutely the undoing of what was left of my

mental stability. During those three months, Donnie did nothing to help me ready myself for a life without him. In fact, I would learn later all he

did was set me up to fail. Not only did his violence return, but without me knowing it, he took out thirty-day loans, one after another, and used the

credit I’d helped him obtain to do it, thus ruining mine in the process. What did he do with all the money? Continued his nasty lifestyle, that’s

what. But it would be nearly a year after his going away, while sorting

through things he’d stored in our garage, I would discover evidence the

police missed in their search of the house. I learned once and for all just how noisome a person he truly was and is. But by this time, because I’d

lied so much and become so entangled in the web of deceit I’d built for

myself and everyone around me, I’d not only destroyed my friendship with

Drew but my relationship with my beautiful daughter as well.

Day after day, I tried and failed to reconnect with Drew. I was desperately eaten with guilt over what I’d done and why, and though my attempts were only widening the gulf between us; I couldn’t seem to stop.

I continued to lie to Polly, and she knew it. On the one day when I

actually told her the truth about something, she thought it was just one more lie from me. Due to my recent behaviour and her inability to let go of past hurt, she’d had enough. With anger I didn’t realize she possessed, she

thrust me from her life. To the day of this writing, I’ve not been allowed back. How I managed to function and hold down my job for as long as I did,

I don’t know. How I’ve managed to live through everything that has

befallen me since I’ve no idea. Why I’m still here, hanging on by the tips of my toenails, I can’t tell you.

Maybe it’s to write down my story. Perhaps it’s because I’ve got this beautiful dog to care for, living with me and loving me. And maybe,

hopefully, there’s something more, something good, waiting to come out of what happened. I don’t know. All I know is, while this doesn’t quite tell everything that happened to cause me to do the things I’ve done, it does tell some, and for now, it’s all I’ve got the strength to tell.

Perhaps one day I’ll write the rest. For now, I hope this is enough to

help you understand me a bit better. Maybe it’s enough for those I’ve lost to find their way back to me. If not, well, it’s the best I’ve got to give.

For now, I leave you with this…

It’s 2020. I’ve lived through some rough times since that long-ago

March day when they took Donnie away. For a time, I tried to believe in

him. But as the days passed and the truth was revealed to me, I realized I

could no longer allow him to be part of my life. As I said, I’d finally begun to go through his possessions, readying them to store away until his return. As I did, I started to find things that proved not only his guilt but more hideousness besides. I found video equipment,

more disks, and photos. When I downloaded my talking screen reader

software onto the computer he’d bought to replace the one the police took away I found a desktop icon that opened a website confirming without

any more possible doubt what he’d been about. I could no longer believe his lies.

It sickened me to realize I’d been living with such a foul beast as he,

and what was worse, I’d unknowingly helped him get by with all of it. To

say I’d begun to loath my very existence would be a gross understatement.

During our last conversation, I told him I no longer believed in him.

He asked…

“What is your biggest regret in all this.”

Well, my answer is one I’m not proud of, nor is it one I’ve stopped giving. Is it right? Is the way I feel that causes me to answer what Mother Father God would have me feel. I don’t know. I’ve not quite gotten to a

place in my heart where I can care yet.

“What is your biggest regret in all this?”

I sat in what was supposed to be our home, talking to him on the phone.

with the noise of the prison in the background. A feeling of hate and anger

roiling nauseatingly inside me because of all I’d allowed him to make me become, I spat angrily, “I regret I didn’t let you kill yourself the day you tried; I wish I’d walked out and let you do it.”

“How can you say such a thing?”

Taking a deep breath, I screamed, “How? You dare to ask me how? I

defended you. I believed in you. I lost everyone and everything I cared

about because of you. And for what? To find out in the end, everything

you were accused of was true and more besides? I hate you, and if they call me and tell me you’ve been killed in prison; I won’t shed a tear. You know what I’ll do? I’ll throw a party, you son of a bitch! I’ll throw the biggest God Damned party there has ever been, and I’ll be glad. Why? Why you

ask? Because you took my love and used it to destroy me. You did all those nasty, indecent, filthy things, and you used me to try and get by with it.

And if I must stand in judgment someday for what I say, then so be it. At least I’ll have the pleasure of holding the door into Nar open for you and kicking your sorry ass through.”

When I’d finished, I didn’t wait for him to speak again. Knowing it was

time to be done with him once and for all, I slammed the phone down,

pressing the off button as I did. I vowed no matter what, I would never believe another thing he had to say to me again. I was through, and I’d

meant every word I said.

We’ve never spoken since. Do I still feel the anger? Yes, I’m sorry to

say I do. I hope someday maybe I can get past it. Perhaps eventually I can

become a better person and forgive him, but I can’t at this moment in

time. For now, the best I can do is go forward with Campbell by my side,

live my life one day at a time and do all I can to survive with what’s left of it.

As I write, my tears fall. Remembering has reopened a wound inside me I’d thought was finally healing. But that’s all right because somehow in

this telling, I think I’ve finally cleaned out the core of it, and maybe when it closes, it will remain so.

This ends my tale, and I thank you for hearing it to its end. I’m sorry there’s no ‘happily ever after’ for you. Sorry there aren’t neatly rounded corners and beautiful tied-up bows. For now, it’s finished.

It’s been six hours since I began to write the afterword for this book.

The coffee’s long grown cold, the rain continues to fall outside, and me,

well, I’m hulled out. But somehow, it’s a relief, and if what I’ve written here helps one person in some way, for me, it will be enough. That’s the

biggest reason I write. Women and men live in similar hells all over the

world, and I hope if they read what I write, it will help them escape.

To Be Continued starting the first week of August 2023.

Read Pathway to Freedom Book One: How a Seeing Eye Dog Retrieved My Life second edition.

 

SMASHWORDS SUMMER/WINTER SALE FROM JULY 1, THROUGH JULY 31, 2023!

Hello, Readers!

I’m excited to announce that all my works are available as part of a promotion on Smashwords for the month of July as part of their Annual Summer/Winter Sale! This is a chance to get my latest release, Pathway to Freedom, as well as all the rest along with books from many other great authors, at a discount so you can get right to reading.

You will find the promo here.

Please share this promo with friends and family!

Thank you for your help and support!

Happy reading!

Patty L. Fletcher.

Pathway to Freedom Broken and Healed:

Book One How a Seeing Eye Dog Retrieved My Life

(Second Edition)

The cover of "Pathway to Freedom". A garden with rocks and pebbles, surrounded by grass and trees. To the left, a bench sits below a tree with a seated dog silhouetted on the grass in front of it. An ethereal glow of gold and green shines through the middle of the picture with the title of the book written in fantasy style lettering in darker gold and with black shadowing.

In the first book of her memoir trilogy, Pathway to Freedom Broken and Healed: Book One How a Seeing Eye Dog Retrieved My Life, Patty Fletcher shares how choosing to attend The Seeing Eye guide dog school in Morristown, New Jersey, helped her to gain complete independence. But this decision would reveal glimpses into worlds she had never known existed.

Once home from The Seeing Eye, Patty soon begins to realize that all is not right in her own world.

Watch your step as you journey down the winding path with Patty and Campbell, for there are many obstacles along the way. Through triumphs and tribulations, through tears and fears, that forever guide remains at her side. King Campbell works tirelessly to keep Patty safe from harm.

Eva Pasco

5.0 out of 5 stars

A Moving, Multi-Faceted Memoir!

Patty Fletcher’s no-holds-barred Candor delivers a moving, multi-faceted memoir through vivid details and snatches of actual conversations.

Ms. Fletcher’s well-written narrative makes it possible for the reader to walk along her pathway on the journey she began when harnessing Labrador, Campbell Lee, for the first time at ‘The Seeing Eye Guide Dog’ school. To be precise—attaching the harness, letting him walk on your left side, and keeping in rhythm with his gait.

Following Patty and Campbell in their soulful journey, the reader becomes acutely aware of the emotional, psychological, and physical toll domestic abuse takes on its victim. While Book 1 doesn’t have a fairy tale ending, this reader walked away admiring and respecting the author’s honesty, courage, bravery, integrity, and resilience as she continues along life’s journey.

I highly recommend this candid memoir which doesn’t tread lightly.

*Note*

This book may also be found at: https://bard.loc.gov/ Pathway to freedom: how a seeing eye dog retrieved my life DB106095

3 Comments

  1. Christy mcmakin Reply
    July 19, 2023

    Incredible writing Patty. Thank you for being so brave and sharing your story! I love you !

    1. Hi, again, Christy.
      Please do share the post with all your family and friends.
      Make sure they read the previous one in this post.
      Loves.
      <3

  2. Hello, Christy.
    I’m so glad to hear from you. Thanks for reading this post and for letting me know you enjoyed it.
    This is a scary trip to go on. I don’t think I’ve been this excited and scared since going to get Blue.
    Pressing the publish button on these stories is going to either make me a stronger more self-sufficient person or send me into an unexplored world. LOL.
    Put on your hiking boots girl, you’re now officially along for the ride.
    Loves.

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