Saturday, December 7, 2013

Prologue for Blood Red Rage

Here's one of my early Christmas gifts to you. I'm giving you the prologue today!
Also, after much deliberation (and the emails where you've begged and threatened to cry) I've decided to release Blood Red Rage (book 1) early.
As always, you'll be the first to know when, so be ready...


                Blood Red Rage
               Littlemoon Investigations
               (Book One)
He was a collector.

All of his life, he always wanted to find the best things out there and make them his. It had been his mission, even from his prepubescent years.

When something sparkly, pretty, or lovely crossed his path, he was compelled to make it his.

It started with simple stones.

One would think that it was innocent enough, but it prepared him for the future ahead. The rocks were just the beginning and made him want more and more.

He would go out into the river and find the ones that nature had worn down in its current, and he would bring them home. At first his mother didn't mind, but then…

Like so many things, it became his obsession.

The collection grew and grew, taking over his space and his brain. It went from hobby to fixation incredibly fast. When his mother tried to step in, he was filled with hate and anger.


How dare she try to stop him?

Even at a young age, the rage filled him when someone tried to touch his possessions. So, as time went on, his mother turned a blind eye. She ignored his obsessive tendencies and let him have it his way. The day that he exploded in rage, she backed down and would never contest his collecting again. Even she feared what may happen if he were provoked.

This hobby opened so many doors for him.

After rocks, it was leaves and then figurines.

There was nothing wrong with that, right?

Before long, as time slowly ticked by and childhood ebbed into adulthood, the needs changed and grew. The objects he longed to collect no longer were little things. As their size grew, their value to him also became greater.

Until that one day, when he stumbled upon the ultimate collection.

Beautiful women.

As he went off to college, a whole new world opened around him. Since he had been home schooled his entire life, he never really understood the importance of the opposite sex. Granted, he spent his days with a woman; his mother. What was so special about her? If anything, she was mediocre at best.

He didn't get it until that day when he was surrounded by them. It was as if something unlocked inside him, and he finally knew the truth.

There were blondes, brunette, and redheads. They smiled and smelled like heaven. Some had curly mops and some had hair that was poker straight.

This was a brand new world.

He was a kid in a very sexy candy shop. Every time that he blinked, a new woman appeared before him. All he needed to do was find the one who called to him.

So, like any good collector, he started at the beginning and prepped with photographs. Taking a few snapshots was easier than talking to them, so pictures would come first, and then he would see where it led.

Maybe in time, he could approach them and make them his.

A good gatherer didn't put a limit on a newly sought after prize.

He let the spirit move him.

Well, now, he was feeling it like never before. As he would sit in his classes, he would watch them all. The brunette liked the one jock. She would bat her eyelashes at him and hike her skirt up pretty high. The blonde was the smart one. She didn't even care about what was going on around her. All that she focused on was the man at the front of the classroom and her notebook. Then there was the redhead. She snapped her gum and looked infinitely bored, as she continued to glance at her watch. Each were very different, and yet so much alike.

Yeah, they were all oblivious to him watching. Part of him wished that they knew the truth of what was floating around in his brain. If they could see the intent on his face as he admired their different colored hair and body types, maybe then, they wouldn’t look so lackadaisical. To him, they were special.

Once class was over, he would follow the one that he liked best. When she never noticed that he was behind her, it gave him more hope that he would finally get her picture for his collection.

When she went to the commons and found a place to lie in the green grass, he did the same. Only, he stayed far enough away to openly admire her.

Oh, and did he ever!

There were shots of her licking her lips, flipping her hair, and falling asleep on her back in the sun.

This was heaven.

Already, his body was stirring, and he was feeling things that he never knew possible. Who would have thought that this beautiful collection was out there, wandering the world so freely?

Why had he not decided on this hobby long ago?

As his eyes flickered around the commons, he saw the truth. Beauty was everywhere, and now he could focus on it.

There was no one to stop him.

He stayed until she did, blowing off his last class of the day, only to watch her head home. He was so enraptured, that he didn't want to miss a second of observing her. If he did, surely something miraculous and wondrous would happen.

Fortunately for him, her apartment wasn’t far from campus and along the tree lined street. If she turned around, he could dive for cover and not be seen. If caught, it would ruin it all.

In his mind, he already had it all planned out. Not only would he take pictures, but he would study his subjects and find the best of the best.

This woman had piqued his interest and would hold a special place in his heart.

He was sure of it.

As he followed, his excitement grew. His body tightened and his response confused him. In his life, he had never wanted anything more. While his other collections brought him joy, this one made him feel. It filled him and made him so very warm with bliss. It astounded him that his own mother had failed to mention the effect of the opposite sex.

This was an endorphin rush.

It was amazing.

It was… addictive.

Deep in his mind, he knew that he was on the right track to find his next collection. With this response, it had to be right.

There was an inkling of warning, but it was pushed back down into his conscience for the momentary high. For now, that was all that mattered.

Once at her apartment, he noticed that she lived on the bottom floor. This would make it easy. Finding a place to hide in the trees, he waited until she made her next move. This was new to him, so he wasn’t quite sure what to do next.

So, he waited.

Once darkness had come, he was in his glory as he moved even closer to his new subject and prize.

He watched.

Moving as close to her window as he dared, he began taking pictures of her for his books. This subject would have one all of her own. Where usually his collections shared a scrapbook, this beauty would get the royal treatment. He was giddy at the prospect of constructing it. There were pictures of her partially clothed and just about ready to enter the shower.

Yes, she was the one.

Now, he knew for sure.

As he took the final shot with his camera, he stared longingly at the beauty. For the time being, she would be his muse. He was certain that it would lead to many more in the collection.

How could he stop at only one?

 Backing away from the window, he made his escape into the night.

His new obsession had begun.

It was going to last his entire life.

Racing back to his apartment, he was overjoyed and exuberant. The energy vibrated through him. Never in his life had he felt this alive and happy.

Something about this woman and the prospect of the hunt, made him feel like he was living the dream. As someone who appreciated the beautiful things in life, he knew deep down that she was his pinnacle.

This was it.

Here was the culmination of everything that he had grown up loving and adoring.

Gone were the trinkets.

Now was the time for his works of art.

As he lay on his bed, his thoughts were focused on one thing. He knew that he needed a strategic plan of action. There needed to be a guideline to tell him where he should begin and how far he could take it.

Were pictures first?

Would they be enough?

He shook his head, as if to fight off the dark ideas bouncing around in his brain. He wanted so much more, but he knew that wasn’t possible.

Yes, pictures would be enough.

After all, he was an artist and nothing more. Then he allowed the darkness a tiny segue into his mind. He was not only a man who appreciated beauty.

He was more...

He was the collector and was destined to have her.

Many Years Later


He watched her get into her car outside the bar, and she was a little bit tipsy. He had to admit that it made everything easier and turned him on even more. Now, all that he had to do was follow her away from there and make his move.

It was all so simple.

She would be the first in his collection. 

For years, he’d watched and snapped pictures, but now it was all about the process of completing what he had always longed to do.

Now, he would bring one of them home.

As her car pulled away from the curb, he followed her a few miles to a location where he knew it would be safe. After all, he’d made this trip many times before, in practice for what was to come.

It shocked him how easy it was to get her attention. With the flashing lights, she immediately pulled to the side of the road, not far from her home. There was no doubt that on this deserted stretch, this would be the ideal spot to take her.

No cars would be passing by.

No one would question it if they did.

This plan was perfect. 

When she pulled over, he stalked confidently towards the driver’s side window. Staring in, he noticed that there was a look of nerves and fear on her face.

That only made it so much better.

“Have you been drinking, miss?” he asked, as he tried desperately not to snicker or laugh.

She tried to calm herself before answering. If her words weren’t perfect, surely he would know the truth. “Yes, sir. I had two drinks at the bar, but I stopped a few hours ago.” Maybe, if she was lucky, he wouldn’t Breathalyzer her and find out the truth.

After all, what was a little white lie? If it meant keeping her out of jail and the newspapers, it was certainly worth it. If worse came to worse, she’d pull the only big card that was left. There was no doubt that by using her daddy’s name, it would save her from getting in trouble.

“Can you please step out of the vehicle for me, miss?”

She did what he asked, and as she swung her long legs out of the car, her heel caught a piece of gravel and she stumbled. As she practically fell onto the man holding the flashlight, in her heart she knew the truth.

She was screwed.

“Yeah, you’re under arrest, miss.”

He pulled the handcuffs from his jacket pocket and turned her around to fasten her wrists behind her back. When she could no longer see his face, he grinned wickedly in victory.

This was like leading lambs to the slaughter. He should have done this years ago…

“I’m sorry! Please let me go! I won’t drink anymore,” she offered, willing to say anything at that point. Man, her father was going to be pissed off when she called him from the jail.

“You know that I can’t do that, Melissa. You’re going to have to come with me,” he replied, softly.

She wasn’t so drunk that she didn't recognize the sound of lust in his voice. “Wait, how did you know my name?” she asked as her heart began pounding in her chest. “You never asked for my license or registration.”

With the last click of the handcuff, he finally leaned down to her ear as his body pressed against hers. “I’ve been watching you for so very long,” he replied, running his hand up her leg to her hip.

Suddenly, the need to escape overwhelmed her. There were so many things wrong with the entire scenario. Melissa just didn't notice them before. Now that she did, the fear was pounding through her.

His calm laughter broke the silence of the night, drawing her attention, and up rose the possibility of trying to escape. She began struggling, praying that she could break away from him.

Fight or flight kicked in, and she wanted to put as much space between them.

The rage built in him and coated his vision in a fine sheen of blood. His prize was trying to ruin his collection. The last thing that he wanted was to put bruises on her body, but something had to be done, and desperate times called for desperate measures.

Grabbing her by the hair, he slammed her forehead off the roof of the car. As quickly as her struggles began, they ended. Sweeping her up into his arms, he carried her to the trunk of his sedan.

This didn't please him at all.  

As he placed her inside, he once more ran his fingers across her pale flesh and to the growing lump on her forehead. Yes, it would eventually heal and not leave a mark on his precious prize, but still, he was irritated at her unwillingness to hand herself over to him. How could he live with himself if he damaged his own collection?

Racing back over to the car, he quickly wiped down the outside and anything that he may have inadvertently touched. He didn't want to give anyone a way to trace him.

Not that they would ever suspect him.

He blended in effortlessly.

He was the boy next door.

Racing back over to his car, he hopped in and pulled away. Tonight was an amazing night, and he was about to bring home the first woman that he ever loved.

Finally, patience had paid off.


A few hours later, she awoke.

Her body was inside some make shift cage. As she tried to sit up, she found that her ankles and neck were tethered with duct tape. Her head swam as she tried to figure out what the hell was happening.

“I was worried about you, Melissa. I thought that maybe you struck your head a little too hard.”

She glanced over towards the voice, as her eyes struggled to adjust to her surroundings. “Where am I?”

His laughter filled the room. “You’re in my home,” he answered as he turned in a circle with his arms out. “I’ve built it just for you and the ones who will join you.”

“Who are you?”

He glanced over at her. “I’m a collector.”

She stared around the concrete room and counted the ten cages. No other ones were filled. She was the only one there. “If you let me go, then I swear that I won’t tell anyone. I don’t know where I am, so I can’t tell the police where you live,” she begged, already hoping that the man could be rationalized with on some level. In the back of her mind, she was memorizing his face. Something about it seemed… familiar.

His laughter said it all.


“You’re a beautiful woman, Melissa, and I am going to take very good care of you. I always do. When I decide to create a collection, I treasure it for a very long time.”

She was horrified.

Yes, she’d seen things like this on the news, but never did she believe that she would end up a victim to such a horrible crime. How did this all happen? Why was she locked in a cage in his basement?

He moved closer to the woman and began snapping more pictures to keep the memories fresh in his mind forever. Now, he could go back and relive this time over and over again.

This was perfect.

“So, you’re going to collect women?” she asked, the horror still evident in her voice. If she could hear it, certainly he could too.

He grinned without offering her a single word.

“Then what?”

That he pondered. Yeah, he couldn’t keep them forever. It would be a financial strain, and he didn't want to damage any of them. “I guess when I finish gathering all my girls, then I’ll do the most responsible thing with all of you.”

She stared at him, her lower lip beginning to quiver. “And that is?” Melissa asked, almost terrified to know.

He shrugged, knowing that he really didn't have many options. “I’ll sell you to someone else that wants to collect or I’ll have to hide you away forever.”

Melissa knew what that meant, and it made her wanted to vomit. When his hand entered the cage to stroke her like a pet, she began to scream.

Again, he smiled. She could call for help all that she wanted. There was no one to hear her or stop him.

He had made sure of that months ago.

“You can yell all you want, Melissa, but it won’t deter me from enjoying you while I can. Finding you and bringing you home took a great deal of work. I plan on taking my time and having fun with my treasure.”

Panic reverberated through her body as she fought against the restraints. She watched him open the front of the cage and pull a hypodermic needle from his back pocket. His handsome features twisted in anger.

“We could have done this the easy way, Melissa, but you had to be difficult.”

She shook her head and tried to avoid the long needle by moving her body as far as she was permitted. God, she couldn’t let him do this! Who knew what was in that hypodermic.

It gave him an iota of pleasure as he shoved it deep into her thigh and pumped her full of drugs.

“Please,” she begged. “Please don’t do this to me. I didn't do anything to you,” Melissa slurred as the drug began to take effect.

He ignored her words, as he straightened her disheveled club wear and waited until it was safe to take her out and play with her. After all, he liked his women to be kept neat and orderly.

“You did lots to me, Melissa. You made me want you and fall in love with you. Now, you have to be mine.”

There was no reply from her, as her head dropped back and her eyes rolled up into her head.

“Welcome to my collection, Melissa. You have the pleasure of being my brunette.”

With that, he set her free of her bonds and took the time to thoroughly enjoy his newly acquired treasure.


Like any good collector would.
© Copyright 2013 by Morgan Kelley LLC All rights
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