This is not The Little Red Riding Hood we grew up with.
Supernatural races—vampires, werewolves, witches, you name it—all exist.
Eighteen-year-old Rue Chaperon and her family belong to an elite hunting society, the S.H.A—Supernatural Hunting Association—and what the Chaperons hunt best are werewolves.
When a new hunting group convinces the Chaperons to team up with them and try a different approach to hunting the supernatural by taking out the Alpha, it sounded like a great idea.
When a new hunting group convinces the Chaperons to team up with them and try a different approach to hunting the supernatural by taking out the Alpha, it sounded like a great idea.
Taking out the Alpha meant they'd eradicate the entire race.
Piece of cake, right?
But nothing is ever easy when you're a hunter.
A Little Red Riding Hood retelling with a spin that will make you believe not all fairytales were meant for children.
Excerpt
“Ru!” My sister yelled my name. “Ru! RU!” I couldn’t see her. I couldn’t even see the forest filled with Dad’s traps ready to spring on the pack we were hunting tonight. Only darkness. A pit of blackness. I panicked. Have I gone blind? Sudden blindness during a hunt spelled only one thing: my imminent death. “Ru!” Yells reverberated around me. Among them the voices of Uncle Fernus and my father, Huck, more distant than that of my sister. My brother and cousin were too far. Both were fantastic snipers, who slayed one wolf after another across great distances with Silver Nitro bullets. “Ru!” Abruptly my sight came back, so fast it disoriented me. My sister leaped into the air like a prima ballerina, with perfect grace and long limbs. With silver swords clutched in both her hands, she was magnificent to behold. I tore my gaze from her and focused on her target—mere inches from me. The wolf was snarling and rattling like they always did. Most people only thought they were story fillers. But stories got them wrong. They didn’t have fur; in fact, there wasn’t a patch of hair on their bodies. They didn’t look like wolves, either, but they hunted in packs, killed in packs. Their bodies were covered in a rubbery, silicone-ish substance, shaped in long snakelike tubes on their heads and backs. Oversized ears framed their faces, which sported long, razor-sharp fangs meant to rip humans in half. The tubes made a sound that struck fear into one’s soul. They rattled like vipers, only ten times enhanced. The tubes on the one near me were going apeshit. I did what any human would—though I was far from one—and covered my head with both arms. The sound of a sword slashing through a leathery torso cut the rattling off. My sister’s war cries rose into the night. More slashing, snarling, screaming, and growling—then nothing, only the ssister’s hard panting. If I were to look at the werewolf now, there would be a human in its place. They always shifted back to their human forms with their last breaths.
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About the Author
Adrienne is a USA Today bestselling author living in South Africa, where she writes full time. Firebolt, book one of the wildly popular Dragonian series, was her debut novel. Her second series, Dream Casters, will conclude with book three, Millue, to be released in 2019.
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FOR MORE INFORMATION
www.adriennewoodsbooks.com
www.facebook.com/AdrienneIsa
www.twitter.com/erichb3
www.instagram.com/authoradriennewoods
www.bookbub.com/authors/adrienne-woods
www.amazon.com/Adrienne-Woods