The Merry Pranked Read Online Free Page A

relationships, he thought as he sipped his scotch.
    In truth, he didn’t want to be the way he was; he just couldn’t help it. His demons ran deep and had been with him for quite some time. Another long lasting relationship, he thought.
    Leslie made his way to the study. It, like the rest of the house, was tastefully decorated; anyone roaming the halls of his condo would determine he was a man of culture and taste, which he believed he was. He discovered a long time ago that he enjoyed a certain lifestyle and had worked hard to ensure he could afford to live that lifestyle. It hadn’t always been easy, based on his childhood, but he had risen through the ranks and through sheer determination found himself in a place where he no longer had to worry about a pay check. His work at the newspaper was something he enjoyed, and would do for as long as he still enjoyed it. It also gave him access to information he required from time to time – his hidden passion or was it his hidden hatred. He’d been accumulating the file for years and hadn’t the slightest idea what he wanted to do with it; it was an obsession; he just didn’t know if that obsession was going to lead him anywhere.
    Music seemed to soothe his soul. He moved to the player and popped in a favorite Diana Ross and the Supremes anthology CD. He quickly programmed it to start at track 13, and then shuffle after that.
    Nothing but heartaches,
    Ooh, nothing but heartaches,
    He brings nothing but heartaches...
    The Supremes were preaching to the choir, he thought as he allowed their sound, the sound that always reminded him of his youth and his Dad, wash over him, relieving some of the tension from his body. His Dad had been a fan; he could remember his Dad standing him between two speakers in their family room and putting on The Supremes I Hear a Symphony ; telling him to close his eyes and let the beauty of the music engulf and overwhelm him. His Dad believed anything Motown had the power to wash away one’s troubles; he’d never forgotten that, and now used the Detroit Sound to help relax him; it not only brought a certain energy to his being, but an element of nostalgia; the music brought with it all the good memories.
     
    Leslie made his way to the desk, taking just a brief moment to scan one of the bookshelves featuring his Detective Brannigan mystery series. He was presently working on the seventh volume featuring the adventures of his flawed Chicago Detective; a popular series of books that had rewarded him financially. It’d been the second book that had truly taken off, hitting the best seller lists, and since then there’d been no looking back. And Leslie loved it. He’d learned early in life that if you’re not smart life controls you and can take you places you don’t want to go. He could remember the feelings of helplessness; it still cut him to the core. How he’d gotten where he was today, based on all he’d seen, he had no idea. What he did know was that when he sat down at his word processor and began typing, he was the one in control. He was God. His characters did what he told them to do and he held the power of life or death over all of them. Sure, sometimes the story took a weird turn and they led him down an unexpected path, thinking they were in charge, but for the most part they were his playthings, owing their very existence to him and him alone.
    He had no idea why the series had become so popular. His detective, Brannigan, was flawed and even at times unlikeable. Much like him, he couldn’t deal with relationships and was constantly losing the good women who came into his life; he drank a little too much and even flirted with drug use. He was bright, but not Sherlock Holmes smart; and while he was a tough guy, he didn’t always win in all his confrontations. He was human. Maybe that was the appeal? Brannigan was also haunted by his own nemesis, a street thug who had risen to the rank of crime boss; a character he created named