Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Prologue for Dead Shall Speak

Evening all!
I'm just getting up to start working on the last part of Sinner Reborn, and I decided to give a taste of next month's book, Dead Shall Speak.

Elizabeth, Callen, and Ethan are on their way! I'm excited for you to read the second part of Tony Magnus and Jaxon Armstrong's story! It won't be the end of theirs, since I have a few more plots in the works for our doctor duo!

Here you go!

And if you haven't pre-ordered your copy, what are you waiting for?
Out March 6th...

Dead Shall Speak 

                 By Morgan Kelley

   Rural Kentucky

There is nothing in the world like killing. 
The fine art of taking a life should be celebrated.

Murdering another human being can fill your soul with such a hunger for power and thirst for control. It grabs hold of you, refusing to let go.

If it lures you into its trap, and you cave, taking that first step into its questionable darkness, you will forever be helpless to ever break free. Once you find your hands wrapped around the long, graceful throat of your victim, there can be no going back.

Death’s spell can’t be broken.
This was one hell of a lesson that he’d been forced to learn from his early childhood. It had formed him, making him the man he was today. To him, there was no mistaking the role that the fairer sex played in life. 
Women had their place.

In bed.
In a kitchen.
Giving birth to the next generation.
In the grave.

Once they wore out their purpose, it was time to take care of the situation. While mercy was given, at some point, it was time to move on. The only thing was, you couldn’t just let them walk away. Once you found, owned, and loved them, there was no way to share the fairer sex with others.
Forever, they should remain yours.

But how was one supposed to do that?

There was only one way.
If the right woman was lucky enough to be found, brought into the family, and made one of your own, there was only one way to set her free.

It may seem wrong, but it was no worse than letting her walk away and into someone else’s arms.
Sometimes, you had to take a life when it no longer held any value to you. Just because you didn't want her, it didn't mean that someone could have what you had worked so hard to find, mold, and love.

It was times like these that only the strong could rise up, take control, and do the deed. At least, that was what he’d been taught from the ripe old age of five. 
Fortunately, he wasn't above taking a life. It was part of the circle, and he was good with that.
From birth, he’d been raised to know his role in life. As a child, there were toys, playtime, and lots of fun, but there were also lessons that he needed to learn.

After all, he was being fostered for what was on the horizon.
He was the only son.
A protective husband.
An all-powerful leader of their household.

They all had roles to fill, just like the woman in his bed knew her place. Although, when he found her, he thought she would last longer than the six months they’d been together. He had such high hopes for her.

Unfortunately, she was becoming troublesome. It was unlikely that he could teach her to be a good partner and wife. She wasn't as malleable like he first believed her to be.
While she had beauty, there was one major flaw.
See, she liked to fight him.

When their paths crossed, seeing her from afar, she was just some runaway on the street. He gave her a ride, brought her home, and then made her special. In the moment that their eyes met, he was more than willing to give her everything.

His heart.
His home.
His seed.

Like he was taught, they were all unique and valuable to him. Whether from a good family or from the street, they mattered. Each had the potential to do great things.
In fact, he saw all that in her.

At first…

She wasn’t just a throwaway.
None of them were.
Each one was handpicked to be his wife. Maybe not legally, but in his mind, the eyes of God, and their family, she was to be the one.

She fit his requirements.
Called to his body.
Touched his soul.

After the last one, and the one before her, he assumed she would be ‘the one’. On the outside, she was the perfect woman. From her wavy black hair, the bright shiny eyes, and the full plump lips, he believed his quest to be over. There wasn't a shadow of a doubt.
She would birth him sons.

This small sprite of a woman would be the mother of his children. Together, they would start building his empire, one boy at a time.

They would be powerful like him. In everything they did, they would carry on his bloodline and make him proud.

They would lead. When their time came, just like his had, his boys would take the reins and make their mark in history.

They would take over for him, learning from their beloved father. Once trained, his sons would be amazing men.

Hadn't that been the point? They would lead, making him proud, just like he hoped he had done for his father.

God bless the old man’s soul.
He really missed him. At that moment, with the problems he was having with his ‘bride’, he really wished his father was there.

Unfortunately, with this one, he’d miscalculated. While the women his father picked were far more refined, he wasn’t having any such luck. Look at the one he chosen to be his wife.
She was failing miserably. After weeks of trying to keep her quiet, locked up, and flexible to his wants and desires, he was finally giving up. The truth was clear--she just couldn't be trained.
Unlike the family pet, she wasn't able to learn the basic rules. It was a shame because he had such high hopes for her.

Granted, the sex between them was hot, but he was tired of forcing her. Was it so hard for her to just give in?

Why couldn't she let him have her body to implant the seed? It was such a simple request. She’d have everything she wanted, if only she’d let him have a child.

Each night, when the time came to go to their marital bed, she had to be dragged from the locked room, thrown onto the mattress, and given no choice.
After weeks, she still refused to give in.

It was a constant battle.

It was like she thought playing hard to get could win her some extra benefits in their life.
She was dead wrong. 

He was sick of it. What he wanted was the skill to train the woman, making her his.
Granted, he’d only just begun this journey, trying to find the womb that would help him build his family, but it was hard. Now, he understood why it took his father so long to find a woman to bring forth life.

This was why his dad had been so old when he was a child. It wasn’t easy to pick the perfect wife.
It took time and patience.
All his life, he hoped that this wouldn't happen to him. He wanted more time with his children than his own father had with him. He needed more training, leading, and insight into how to do what he did.

He longed for it, almost as much as he wanted a good wife.
He prayed it would happen.
If it did, it was surely God’s will.

Staring at his woman’s prone body, he could see the slow fall and rise of her chest. She wasn’t sleeping, but unconscious. Unfortunately, he had to steal her breath in order for her to be less combative. It pained him to hurt her more than needed, but she wanted to claw his eyes out, and that just wasn't right.

Where was the obedience?
The ability to know right from wrong?
The respect for her husband?

Now, it was time to decide what to do with her. It was ultimately his choice. In that moment, the options which stood before him were life or death.

Was she redeemable?
Was she salvageable?
Or... was it time to cut his losses and move on?

“Why can’t you just be a good girl?” he asked, running his fingers down her cheek. “I just want to love you. If you’d let me, I would give you one hell of a life. You’d be in charge of our home, you’d give me babies, and I would keep you safe from all the evil in the world. I would have treasured you until you died.”

She didn't move.

No reply came from her.

There was no sign of life.

Apparently, she was making the choice for him. It appeared to be out of his hands.
He sighed.

So be it.

Death was no stranger to this household.

“Now I have to hurt you, and I hate to do that, April. I wanted you to be mine forever, but you wouldn't see what was right. All you had to be was a good girl. Then, you would be rewarded.”

Grabbing some rope from beneath the bed, he began binding her hands. If God willed it and she was lucky, April Belmont wouldn't be waking up before he did the deed.
In fact, he hoped he would be fortunate too. The last thing he wanted to do was look into her pretty blue eyes as he ended her existence on Earth.

He had a heart.

She may have broken it, but he forgave her. How could he not? Wasn't that what love was all about?
When he had finished tying her up, he straddled her body as he said a prayer.

“Please watch over her as she comes to you, Lord. Forgive her for not knowing her duty in life. May she have peaceful passage to you. I also ask that in her departure, you send me someone who will help me keep our family alive. I ask for your help. Amen.”

At the final word, she began to stir beneath him.

Why was he surprised?

She came into this ‘marriage’ fighting, and it looked like she would go out that way too.

It was so exhausting.
This was why she had to go.

When her eyes popped open, glaring up into his, the intent was there. Despite her hands being bound, she struck out, spitting in his face.

“Fuck you!”
He hit her.

It wasn’t the hardest strike in the world, but it incapacitated her, knocking her silly. “You won’t use that language in my home!” he demanded. “This is just proof that you’re vile and not the one, April. No wife talks to her husband that way. You never could learn your role in life!”

Gathering her wits, she managed to stop the room from spinning by blinking. “Let me go, you creep,” she hissed, trying to unbalance him from his sitting position on her hips.

The sight of him naked repulsed her, making the flesh on her body crawl in revulsion. Every time he touched and raped her, she wanted to cut out his heart.

“Why, April? Why can’t you just behave? I could give you a good life. You could have been my wife--the mother of my children--but instead you want to fight me. Is this life so bad? You were walking the streets. This is paradise compared to what was going to happen to you.”

She glared at him.

“It’s an honor to carry my child. I picked you, and you should be grateful. My father said so. I was a gift, and I was passing that on to you and our firstborn.”

She was angry, sore, and tired of his abuse. If the sex wasn't bad enough, the conditions in which he kept her were enough to make her crazy.

She wasn't an animal.
She was a human being.
The training stopped now.
April would rather die than be in his captivity any longer.

“Fuck you and your father! He’s as vile as you!” she shouted, bucking her body to get him off. What she planned on doing once he was off, April had no idea. Surely, she could fight him.
Or at least that was her hope.

At the mere mention of his father, there was such an anger brewing in him. No one spoke of the great man like he was anything less than perfect.

He was good.
The best father in the world.

Talking ill of the man was a death sentence.

When rational thought left him, all that was left was intense anger. With his fists, he began beating her. They pummeled her face, chest, and neck. Rage coated him, making him unable to stop the violence. All he saw was that night he’d peeked into his father’s room. He saw the way the man killed his mother for the same sin.

“DON’T.TALK.ABOUT.MY.DAD!” he screamed, punctuating each word with one of his fists.
Finally, it was her sobs which broke the spell, and the sound of his fist damaging flesh and bone.

“This is why you’re dead, April. You can’t follow the rules! You make me so angry! Look what you made me do to you! This is all your fault!”

She curled into the fetal positon, her body and face, battered and bruised.
“Please…” She hiccupped between sobs. “Let me go. I want to go home. I want my mom. I won’t tell anyone. I promise. You’ll be my secret.”

Those words infuriated him.

He was no one’s secret. He was a gift to them all, and by now she should know that.
Staring down at her, he knew what needed to be done. “You’re going home, April. Right now.”
With large angry hands, he wrapped his fingers around her throat. Squeezing with all his strength, he watched her mouth open and close like a fish out of water. She gasped for air, her eyes going wild with fear. He watched as the whites went glossy, and the pupils went dead.

It was ugly.

For him, it was time to move on. Out with the old choice, and then he could find one who would work better for him. The next woman would be a good match.

He could feel it.

While he would never cheat on April while they were together, he knew it was time to put her to rest and keep looking.

Miss Right was out there, and she would make the perfect wife.

As her face went red, and then blue, he continued squeezing. “Die, April. Just die,” he hissed, leaning down to press his weight across her slim throat.

Bones popped.
Muscles went lax.

Her eyes were huge, filled with all the emotions found during a violent death. As life was slowly ebbing away, so was his anger. April’s body shook beneath him as it released the last ounce of her spirit.

And then…she was gone.

Thankfully, it was over. He was free. Now, he could take that moment to prepare himself to move on. In her passing, there was life. He stared into her eyes to seek the truth. All he found was that blank, hollow stare.

She was dead.

Slowly, he released her, watching the dead eyes staring up at him. They held so much calm and peace. It gave him the same feelings. Obviously, this was meant to be. If in death, while in the deliverance into God’s hands, there was such calm, it had to be right.

“Thank you for the months you gave me,” he said, slowly closing her eyelids. “I’ll take you where the others are, and then we can break up once and for all. You won’t be forgotten. I promise. I’ll carry a piece of you with me forever. I hope you enjoy your final resting place.”
Of course it wouldn't matter, since she had no say in that. At the moment, she was broken and released to the maker.

It was how it was meant to be.

Dressing, he got ready to head out. It was dark enough outside that he knew he could find the special place to put her.

It was one his father knew well.

Before his passing, the man had shared his secrets. 

“April, I wish things could have been different,” he stated, slinging her nude body over his shoulder. She hung there, dead weight.

“Since you’re going, I’ll have to start looking for your replacement. I learned my lesson. I’m picking a better woman this time. She’ll be one I can break. I can’t be so impulsive with her. I’m going to have to watch her more. I learned my lesson.”

He wondered if she had.

Carrying her from his bedroom, and past the door which led to her old prison, he felt no remorse. It was another sign that she wasn't the one. “Say goodbye to our happy home, April. You have a colder hell to head to now.”

With that, he dropped her in the back of his truck and threw a tarp over her. For now, he’d take her to the grave where his first two ‘wives’ were at rest.

While they weren’t worthy to be placed with the family, it was the one thing he needed to do. At the very least, they deserved a decent burial. After all, he did have compassion.

He’d learned that from his beloved father.

His other ‘mistakes’ would now have company. How much more mercy could he offer them?

He laughed as he stared in the rear view mirror. Maybe their spirits could discuss what they did wrong. Maybe there would be a schooling in the afterlife on how to be a good wife.

They all needed it.

All three were failures, and he needed to find a success.

“It’s time to look for a new wife. I think I like this part the best. It’s like shopping.” He had his mental list, and now all he needed was to see who was available.

With that, he pulled out of his driveway and headed to the spot. Tonight, he was a free, single man on the town. He knew just the place to find a girl.

That evening, he was going to get a new wife.

Whether she liked it or not…

Copyright © 2015 Morgan Kelley LLC
All rights reserved. Without limiting rights under the copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, introduced into a retrieval system, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including without limitation photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. The scanning, uploading, and/or distribution of this document via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and is punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized editions and do  not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrightable materials.

I hope you enjoy the book! 
Keep reading!

Much love, mayhem, and murder,