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LRR Hood: A Little Red Riding Hood Novel, #1
LRR Hood: A Little Red Riding Hood Novel, #1
LRR Hood: A Little Red Riding Hood Novel, #1
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LRR Hood: A Little Red Riding Hood Novel, #1

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The bestselling fantasy thriller author Elle Marshal or as she is better known by her pen name LRR Hood spends her days and nights weaving tales of werewolves inspired by the stories her grandmother told her as a girl with her own little twist. She never gave any serious thought to question if these two-natured creatures were real or not, at least not until she found herself thrust into her own supernatural werewolf suspense.

Elle Finds herself meeting werewolves for the first time and concludes that grandma's bedtime stories were a little to close to comfort when she is the potential next victim of an obsessed serial killer.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMar 31, 2017
ISBN9781393935438
LRR Hood: A Little Red Riding Hood Novel, #1
Author

Cassandra Johnson

Growing up in the deep south I was taught some precious life lessons; you should always answer with Ma'am or Sir, tea that isn't sweet and iced is blasphemy, and that you catch a lot more flies with sugar than you do with vinegar. I was born in Fort Smith, Arkansas but I was raised in the small town of Marion, Arkansas a short fifteen-minute drive from Memphis, the birthplace of rock and roll. While it may not seem like an accomplishment to some, I am proud to say that I was a published author before the age of thirty and I have many more books left in my head to share with the world. My first novel, LRR Hood is a twist on the classic Little Red Riding Hood fable, and I currently have two more books lined up for a trilogy series of the main character, Elle Marshal's dramatic encounter with werewolves, one of my favorite mythical creatures. My writing continued to evolve from the time I was a teenager, getting involved in text-based roleplay games where my friends and I would create storyboards where we each contributed to the story through the eyes of the character's we chose to write for. I also love fan-fiction and was an avid reader and still am to this day. I decided to throw my hat in the ring and write some of my own fanfictions until eventually, I wanted to work with characters that were my own. From those days I continued to write short stories that never reached the public until I was introduced to Kindle Direct Publishing because while I wanted to be a writer and I wanted to publish my work, I never truly believed that anyone would publish my writing and I now have a work in progress list as long as my arm, and it continues to grow every day, LRR Hood won't be the last you hear from me.

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    Book preview

    LRR Hood - Cassandra Johnson

    Chapter One

    ––––––––

    Lifting the lid of the dark vehicle’s trunk he knew that even if someone were to see him they wouldn’t be able to identify him here in the darkness nor give a positive description of the vehicle. Beneath the dome of the light the body was crumpled inside the cavern of the trunk. He stooped reaching inside and lifting the arm of the woman up, hauling her out and draping her over his shoulder. In that moment, he chuckled somewhat, many people don’t realize that the weight of a body changes once all the life has drained out of it and he wondered if that was where the term dead weight came from. Shaking his head with demonic glee as he set about his mission the steep and rocky incline of the eastern side of the shoreline was the best place for him to dump the body. He wasn’t worrying about keeping her hidden, soon enough the waves themselves would carry her down the shore and she’d be washed up. He intended for her to be found, it was all part of the plan.

    Reaching the top of a small embankment of rocks he knew this would be the perfect place to drop his package off. Summer after summer as a teenager he’d watched people climb up to the perch and dive into the water and swim their way up the sand bar like seals bobbing on top of the surf.

    It was early morning and in less than an hour the sun would be peaking over the horizon bringing with it another blistering cold day, there was a storm in the forecast and he could smell it on the salty brine of the ocean as it crept its way inland. Pausing, he pulled the limp body from over his shoulder and looked down into the woman’s face, three long gashes running from her right temple to the side of her jaw on the left side of her face. She’d tried to fight him but it didn’t matter. She really was an attractive woman but looks were only part of the motive, no one would believe this if the woman weren’t attractive. Her body popping up on the beach wouldn’t be taken seriously if she wasn’t beautiful. He knew that if he was going to pull this off, he had to think the way that his true prey did and truly get into his head.

    Her name was Carla Epstein, beautiful long brown hair, dark brown eyes that were almost black, she looked exotic and that was what originally drew him to her in the first place although Carla barely had an idea of what he had in mind when he met her inside the bar earlier last night. Carla was just a small pawn in the game that he was playing and she couldn’t have fallen into his hands at a better time. He could have chosen any woman, any woman at all would have done but he knew that there was a flavor that was preferred and when he saw her sitting there alone he knew that she was the one.

    Stepping up to the ledge he looked down at the water below before hurling Carla’s body into the icy water. His only real regret was that he didn’t get to fuck her, that would have ruined everything. DNA evidence would be a factor in the police investigation, of course the police didn’t matter so much in this as it did to the Council. If the cops came back with evidence and proved without a doubt that he’d had sex with this woman and killed her then the Council would be chasing him and not his foe, Gaerik Chaliceman. No, he had to maintain control and think about the repercussions of his actions otherwise one foolish slip up would have them all clambering in the wrong direction, the pack would be looking for the wrong man a man whose punishment had never come to fruition in all his life. He was the fucking golden boy of the Chaliceman legacy.

    The Council wanted Gaerik gone and so did he, but how long was he supposed to be expected to live under that shadow and not seek out a way to take his rightful place at the throne? Luckily it didn’t take much convincing with the Council. They had their own plans and together they could achieve the same end. Watching Carla’s body bob on the surface of the water for a few minutes he turned, making his way back to his car. Closing the trunk, he reached inside of his pocket to retrieve his cell phone, pulling the driver side door open and slipping inside as the call was answered on the second ring.

    It’s done.

    * * *

    As the final key stroke fell LRR Hood sat up straight in her chair and stretched, feeling her vertebra realign with a few snaps. The bestselling fantasy erotica author’s bum was sore, numb and tingling. Her shoulders were burning from hunching over her laptop for hours enumerable, but it was finally finished. The final installment of her bestselling series to date was ready to be sent to the publisher.

    Christ. A gush of her accent whispered in the silence of her New England home. Pushing her seat back from the desk, she stood up. LRR Hood was not her real name. It was, a clever, or so she thought, pen name she was given by a beau who teased her for her obsession with werewolves. She tended to pick up men in bars she considered to have certain lupine qualities.

    Elle often pondered whether her readers would believe it if they knew that her books were ninety percent true events and ten percent creative reasoning? Pausing at her reflection in the mirror in the hall, her hair was sticking up at odd angles; there was a Cheeto hanging from the lapel of her robe. Elle’s plump bow lips pulled up into a smirk. Nah. A melodic laughter escaped from her alabaster throat as she made her way to the restroom. She needed to clean herself up after a twelve-hour writing binge. Sometimes she just didn’t know where she got the energy from, the material could write itself, but her ability to write was at times what she often called into question.

    The purple and orange dawn was rising over the tops of houses as she came out of the bathroom feeling a bit less unkempt now that her teeth and hair had been brushed, her terry cloth robe was shaken loose of any edible debris. Elle was secure enough to admit her slovenly ways. She’d eaten that Cheeto.

    Now, if she knew her next door neighbor like she thought she did, Alice no doubt had lost just as much sleep as Elle while she had anxiously been waiting for the appropriate time to show up to her doorstep. Chuckling gently Elle skipped into her bedroom clicking the print button. Watching as one pure white sheet of paper was littered with her labors and being spit out into the retrieving tray as the knock came at her door. Right on time.

    The small hairs within her ear canal prickled as she opened the front door to the sound of birds chirping in the trees even though it was freezing outside. What they had to be so happy about Elle never understood. The life of a bird must have been rife with hardships yet they always made the best of it with a song to sing.

    Elle was greeted by the eager, red cheeked face of her next-door neighbor and sometimes her Saturday night companion on the couch with a bottle of wine.

    Good morning, I brought your paper. Is it ready? Alice blurted the choppy sentence out, positively bouncing.

    Just finished it. Elle smiled holding the door open so that Alice could come inside. Retrieving her coffee cup from the woman’s hand as well as slipping the paper out from under her arm. The slightly rounded middle aged lady scurried into the bedroom lured by the sounds of her printer churning out page after page of fantastical smut. Elle couldn’t be too displeased with the invasion of her privacy. Women like Alice were her core audience and far be it for her to disappoint them.

    Yes, just help yourself. Elle mumbled softly under her breath as she took a sip from the coffee mug and grimaced. Alice was a wonderful woman, but her coffee making skills weren’t as strong as her friend-making skills.

    Her slippers clip-clapped over the hardwood floor as she made her way into the heart of the house, the kitchen, to make a proper pot of coffee. Setting the cup down and shaking the newspaper out, azure orbs scanning over the front page. Another car bombing in the Middle East, local senator caught in gay scandal, mutilated body found washed up on the beach near Lighthouse Point; oldest woman in Connecticut celebrates one hundred-fifth birthday. Wait, Elle paused for a few minutes before scrolling back through what she read. Of course, she wasn’t that interested in a hundred-year-old woman’s birthday, although at that age it certainly was something to celebrate, but that wasn’t what caught her attention. 

    Mutilated body found washed up on the beach near Lighthouse Point, see page four.

    Turning to page four she spread the newspaper out on the kitchen island, pulling herself up a bar stool as she leaned over the paper, elbows on counter, chin in her palms she read.

    New Haven Police are awaiting autopsy results on a partially decomposed body found washed up on the beach at Lighthouse Point early Wednesday morning. Police Chief Clayton Eisner is reported saying that the body couldn’t have been in the water more than twelve hours and authorities are being led to believe that the body was dumped there. New Haven Police Officials are not releasing any more information on the victim at this point other than the victim is female and appears to be in her mid to late twenties. Anyone with information on the identity of the woman is being asked to please come forward. The blonde’s ashen brows linked up with curiosity as she processed the information before mistakenly taking another drink of the scorched coffee. Dribbling some down her chin

    Lovely.

    Taking the cup to the sink and pouring it out before she managed to finally make coffee that wouldn’t be considered rocket fuel by the international space program. Listening she wondered how Alice was doing in her bedroom; coffee in hand, Elle went down the hall past the bathroom and peaked inside, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she found that Alice had made herself a fort of pillows and was propped up against the headboard zealously devouring the pages from the printer.

    Mind if I catch a few z’s while you read the latest exploits of Mistress Delilah: Werewolf Huntress? Elle grinned setting her mug down and flopping onto the spare side of the king size bed.

    Chapter Two

    ––––––––

    Gaerik has gone too far this time. Vapor poured from the male’s mouth as the words escaped. It was yet another freezing day in Connecticut and the two figures that stood on the beach sentinel in the sand near the water’s edge. Neither man looked pleased at the sight of the waves rolling up to the coast.

    Father has turned a blind eye to his behavior for too long. He was always the bright and chosen son, but something has to be done. If not the humans will get suspicious. Marik spoke harshly, his icy stare turning to his companion as his jaw set.

    We can’t do anything without the Council’s approval as well as your fathers too. Jamal said shaking his head slowly.

    With the latest turn of events? I don’t think we will have a hard time swaying the Council in our favor. After all, my father may be head of the Council, but it is a majority.

    If you say so, Marik. Your brother has a talent for talking his way out of punishment.

    The silver-tongued bastard.

    Gaerik was the oldest with his twin following three short minutes after him on the day of their birth. While the two were similar in appearance, they couldn’t have been any more alike than the sun and the moon. The twin’s father, Gallen Chaliceman was the pack elder. Alpha status had been dispensed with years ago, for a more democratic rule. One where each pack in the state got a vote, but the old man was beginning to waver in his old age. Gaerik was his first born and stood first in line to take his father’s place as head of Council but the man he was appeared to be was nothing but a mutt by his behavior.

    I wonder what hole in the wall he has slunk off to avoid your father’s wrath? Jamal pondered aloud. His brilliant two-toned brown eyes swept over the landscape taking in the dark clouds on the horizon. The weight of a storm hung in the led colored sky and tickled his extra sensitive sense of smell.

    It doesn’t matter. I’ll find him.

    Jamal’s neck snapped as he looked at the profile of his sire with a mixture of awe and bewilderment. You mean you’re actually going to go after him?

    I have to for several reasons; father will never send out a hunting party for his own son and if he can’t bring Gaerik in, then the pack can’t rule against his crimes. Partiality means a complete breakdown of all the laws set in motion. Gaerik has to be brought in, and if I have to drag him to the council’s feet in chains? So be it.

    * * *

    Her body jerked as she woke. What time is it?  In her sleep, Elle had rolled onto her stomach, the side of her face laying on the flat surface of her latest manuscript. Elle had been drooling in her sleep, dampening some of the paper all the way down to the mattress as she sat up on her elbows, blurry sleep-crusted eyelids forcing themselves to stay open as she looked around the dark and abandoned bedroom. How long was she out for?

    Elle questioned this as she reached for the lamp and turned it on, groaning softly from the sudden shock of the light to her dark adjusted pupils. Holding her head down for a few seconds she sniffed, cleared her throat and opened her eyes again, scanning over the sheets on the bed before blurrily looking at the note stuck to the front of her manuscript.

    The best yet.

    Apparently, Alice must have read the entire thing while she slept. Rubbing her head Elle could feel the beginnings of a migraine coming on already. Twenty-four hours of forcing caffeine on herself and then sleeping for nearly an equal amount of time was pushing it a little far, and she knew she was going to pay for it in the form of a major headache. Elle needed food in her belly, nicotine, and more coffee. Oddly, nicotine and caffeine helped stop her headaches.

    Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she padded down the hallway into the kitchen, finding all the lights off in the house. She felt along the wall until she found the switch.

    This could only be described as the joys of being your own boss. Elle didn’t need to worry about being late for the job that put the food on the table and kept her bank account from bleeding dry; she often looked back on those days with a small smile. It was hard but with enough drive she’d met with the day when writing was no longer a hobby, it wasn’t the part-time job that most told her was a pipe dream and no matter how good the book was it might never make it to publishing. Placing her coffee cup in the microwave for a minute she reveled in the fact that those days were over.

    There were three new voice mails on her cell phone, which needed charging so while she waited for that she took her coffee into her bedroom once more, checking her e-mails to see if she had heard anything back from her publicist. The message had been opened but no response. Julie was probably still reading her manuscript, she never responded right away and usually got back to her in a week, two sometimes at the latest. It was her pattern.  Julie would read her manuscripts up one side and down the other, three shades from Sunday to make sure that it was perfect - it’s what Elle paid her to do.

    Checking her voice mail, two were from her ex-boyfriend who turned out to be very into the bear scene, large hairy gay men and one was a questionnaire asking if she was happy with her phone carrier. That last one made her roll her eyes softly as she finished her first cup of coffee and went for another before looking inside of the fridge to see what she could eat, finding nothing of real interest she opted for ordering out after soaking in a nice hot bath, at this point Elle couldn’t remember the last time she’d bathed and that was never a good thing. Sometimes she got so caught up with work, she forgot how to do everything except for breathing.

    When she first bought this house one of the things that she had fallen in love with was the claw-foot bath tub, but now a year and a half later it was safe to say that her love affair with that tub was over. It was too much work moving the shower curtains around when you wanted to take a bath and then fixing them back inside of the tub if you needed to jump in for a quick shower. As the basin filled she was considering a bathroom remodel, maybe she would have an extra bathroom added to the house since there was only one, and then she would have this one remodeled that way she wasn’t forced to stay somewhere else during the interim. Elle didn’t know much about renovations aside from what she saw on home improvement shows. They usually made it look easy. Any project that big couldn’t possibly be so easy.

    Lighting a candle and grabbing her cigarettes she stripped before sinking into

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