First Take

By Ed Bar

What would you do if you could not have the one woman that you have always desired?

Henry Santos had been estranged from his family for years, unable to reconcile his inappropriate feelings for his mother and his distain for his dying father. After a pleading phone call, Henry reluctantly returned with twin captives in tow.

Caught in a whirlwind of emotions, he must navigate his twisted relationship with his mother while saying goodbye to the only role model he had ever known and continuing his legacy of pain and dominance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ed Bar
• Release date: Jul 2, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005502324

Ed Bar

Ed Bar spent most of his adult life working in the music industry as an audio engineer, music promoter and ghostwriter. Deciding to try his hand at being a novelist, he developed the idea for "The Red Demon Trilogy". Inspired by various vampire and witchcraft novels that only featured werewolves as side characters, he decided that it was time to bring these supernatural creatures to the forefront. Finding the balance between both a romanticized and villainous species, he created Perfect Moon, the first book in the trilogy. In addition, he is also the author of such short stories as "Love and Lust", "A Fallen King", and "The Voyage of Bran, a Modern Adaptation". Born in Saint Louis, Missouri, he currently lives in the Ozark Mountain Range in southern Missouri, where he spends his free time fishing and playing with his pit bull.

Book preview

First Take

The Santos Family Chronicle: Book One

Ed Bar

First Take

The Santos Family Chronicle: Book One

Ed Bar

Copyright 2020

Published by Cold Steel Publishing

All rights belong to Ed Bar

Adult Material 18+ Only

This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all products of the author’s deviant and depraved imagination.

Chapter One

He had pulled into his parents’ driveway ten minutes ago, but he couldn’t find the strength to shut off the engine and get out. A whirlwind of emotions coursed through him as he stared up at the large, dowdy farmhouse. Its once-white walls were now a dingy yellow with bits of paint peeling away from the clapboard. One of the beige shutters on his second-floor bedroom window hung free from its hinges. When he was a child, this place had been immaculate. His father would not have settled for anything less. Yet, as his health faded, so too had his mother’s interest in keeping up with her duties.

He remembered vividly her punishments whenever his father had found a speck of dust or a dirty dish, and he also knew what would happen to her if he ever recovered and saw the state of his house. His father wouldn’t use the paddle this time. In fact, she would be lucky if he didn’t put her in the cellar again.

His father was the real reason he couldn’t force himself to leave the comfort of his ‘79 Newport. He couldn’t bring himself to see his once god-like role model lying in his own waste, unable to do more than blink and croak out one and two syllable words with each breath. During his childhood, Henry’s father had been fierce and strict, confident and determined, strong and indestructible; he had been a force to be reckoned with.

The way she described him now, he wasn’t the same man. He was not Henry’s father, but some strange, weak man who resided in his bed. No, he would much prefer to spend the remainder of his trip in his prize possession, his classic R-body 1979 Chrysler Newport, with its emerald green paint and whitewash roof. He would rather feel the rumble of its 195-horsepower, 360 V-8 engine than feel the heartbreak that came from the crushing reality that the man he had always feared and respected was nothing more than an empty husk. This car was, now more than ever, a safe haven, a large, spacious safe haven with a 21.3 cubic foot trunk, large enough to hold his new toys.

He sighed and shut off the engine. Even if he didn’t go inside the house, he would have to put his toys in the cellar. Growing up, whenever he had brought home a new toy, his father was always adamant that they remained in the cellar. That was where they belonged. That was the only place he had been allowed to play. Toys were never allowed to clutter up the house, to which his mother had always agreed. She had enough household duties to contend with and didn’t need to pick up after him as well.

He climbed out of the car and closed the door. Jingling the keys and whistling, he made his way to the trunk. That was when the front door opened, and his mother stepped out on to the porch. Hank, you’re here!

Henry turned, cursing under his breath for having been caught. He wanted a little more time to himself before dealing with the inevitable. Yet, when he saw the look of pure joy on his mother’s face, his mumbling died. There were few things in life, Henry believed, that could compare to seeing his mother smile. She looked radiant, her golden flowing hair framing her porcelain face before falling over her shoulders. She was absolutely stunning, such a sight for sore eyes. He hadn’t been able to bring himself back here since his father had grown ill almost two years ago, and he had missed her so much.

He walked over to the porch, chuckling as he watched her hopping up and down with excitement, taking special notice of the way her breasts jiggled under her almost transparent camisole, the only article of clothing she wore, except for a pair of lacy white panties that left little to the imagination.

It was good, he noted, that she at least kept up with some of his father’s rules after he fell ill. He had never let her wear much clothing unless she had to leave the property. When she was at home, it was her duty to make herself appealing to the eye. More often than not, his mother would strut around the house in nothing but her panties, but when she did wear tops, they were as close to see-through as they could get. The camisole she wore today would have been pushing his standards. Though Henry could see the outline of her areolas and jutting nipples, they weren’t fully visible.

I was beginning to worry that you wouldn’t show up.

He sprinted up the stairs, quickly closing the distance between them. He threw his arms around his mother’s waist, lifting her off the ground as he held her tightly against him. He kissed her softly on the crook of her neck and then set her back down, keeping her in his embrace. And miss the chance to see my darling mother? Not likely.

She leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. It’s been so long. I’ve missed you so much, my sweet boy.

I missed you too, Mother, terribly. He let his hands slide down the small of her back until his fingers grazed the curve of her buttocks. I’m sorry it took me so long to come home.

Daddy will be so happy to see you, she told him. Your angel face will lift his spirits. I just know it.

Grimacing, Henry released her and took a step backward. I don’t want to see him, Mother. I came here for you.

He regretted his words the instant that they poured from his lips. Her happy, enthusiastic countenance vanished. Her emerald eyes lost their sparkle as she narrowed them. He didn’t have time to react, her arm swung so fast that it was barely a blur. The back of her hand collided with his cheek, rocking his head to the side.

You will march right upstairs and visit your father, she scolded. I will hear nothing more of this. Do you understand me?

"Yes,