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Redbone 3




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  Redbone 3: The Rise Of The Fold

  The End. How To Write A Bestselling Novel in 30 Days

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  Copyright © 2016 by The Cartel Publications. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission

  from the author, except by reviewer who may quote passages

  to be printed in a newspaper or magazine.

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE:

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses,

  Organizations, places, events and incidents are the product of the

  Author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance of

  Actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2016934345

  ISBN 10: 0996209921

  ISBN 13: 978-0996209922

  Cover Design: Davida Baldwin www.oddballdsgn.com

  www.thecartelpublications.com

  First Edition

  Printed in the United States of America

  REDBONE 3

  “The Rise Of The Fold”

  By T. Styles

  What’s Up Fam,

  I normally don’t do this, but I feel I must. This is an election year and I need all of you reading this book, that are of voting age, to make your vote count. We can’t complain about the issues of today if we don’t do our part by trying to place the most qualified and logical people in place to run our government.

  Aight, now that the PSA is out of the way  I’ma jump right in because I can’t wait any longer!

  In preparation for this book dropping I read, “Redbone 2” again to give myself a refresher. Lawd Have Mercy… T. Styles went above and beyond on this one! “Redbone 3: The Rise of The Fold” is a MASTERFUL work of literary art. I was pulled into this story from the first page. I KNOW you are going to go through an assortment of emotions reading this novel.

  Get Ready!!

  With that being said, keeping in line with tradition, we want to give respect to a vet or trailblazer paving the way. In this novel, we would like to recognize:

  Leonardo DiCaprio

  Leonardo Wilhelm DiCaprio is the phenomenal American actor and Environmental Philanthropist who has a vast number of accreditations and roles he has attained and performed. Some of my favorite movies from him are, The Man in The Iron Mask; What’s Eating Gilbert Grape?; Catch me If You Can; The Departed; The Wolf of Wall Street; DJango and of course his most recent movie, The Revenant.

  He FINALLY won the Academy Award this year (2016) for his role and outstanding performance in The Revenant, which was well deserved and way overdue. If you have not seen any of his films, please do yourself a favor and get aquatinted, you will be glad you did.

  Aight, get to it. I’ll catch you in the next novel.

  Be Easy!

  Charisse “C. Wash” Washington

  Vice President

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  PROLOGUE

  CUTIE TUDY’S HOUSE

  Washington, DC

  PRESENT DAY

  It was tough watching a whore in action and yet Cutie Tudy was forced to do just that…

  Body damp from the night’s rain that continued to drown out the city, the large brown sofa swallowed Cutie as she eyed her trashy foster mother Melinda Sheldon across the way. The decent thing would’ve been to carry the spectacle to her room but neither Melinda nor Jones, the driver who she failed to pay due to brokeness, had the time or the inclination.

  When he learned she was destitute he started to do the American thing and call the cops. Luckily for her he held out and was rewarded by Melinda’s snatch swallowing his stiffness on the living room couch.

  And to think, all of this jumped off directly after Mooney’s funeral earlier that day and Cutie was still morose after losing such a superior friend. But no one gave a fuck, at least not in her apartment anyway. This emotion was causing her to fall deeper into despair.

  As she gaped at the show she still couldn’t believe a kid she knew murdered her friend. The same person she let finger pump her in the laundry room. A boy she thought liked her— at least a little.

  She was wrong.

  The day Mooney was murdered started simple enough. Cutie was arm in arm with No Good Naylor from up the block. Although he was easy on the eyes, he was a seventeen-year-old know-it-all who was leading Cutie into a dark laundry room, where his friends were hidden to record video. After a few indiscretions in the under lit space, Mooney snaked into the basement and blew up the teenagers’ spot by gunpoint, angering Naylor to no end.
He promised to avenge his embarrassment and as a display of his gratitude, later that night he murdered the woman, leaving Cutie virtually alone.

  Cutie blinked a few times and noticed Melinda’s white bra strap dangling off the side of her body as Jones’ fingertips dug into the flesh of her waist, leaving huge dips into her skin. He pumped so hard into her pussy that one of her breast flew out of her slinky grey shirt and slapped against his dry, cracked mouth. Like a tennis racquet he caught her nipple against his lip and sucked for dear life.

  They were doing The Most in front of the junior as they operated carefree.

  When the driver’s gaze fell on Cutie Tudy he looked at her lustfully and winked. He was an amateur. Most of Melinda’s men flashed a shot of dick to get a rise out of her. It wasn’t the first time one of her foster mother’s visitants noticed her and with her prostitute type ways, she was certain it wouldn’t be the last. At the end of the day Melinda used sex in lieu of money so strangers were normality in the apartment.

  Having seen enough Cutie peeled herself off the sofa and stomped toward her room, slamming the door. Flopping on the edge of the bed she observed her face in the large dresser mirror across the way. Her long black hair was plastered to her warm ivory colored skin that was splotched with what looked like smeared red kisses.

  Why did losing Mooney hurt so?

  She had no idea she would miss the old bird so much, the only bright side being that Naylor and his accomplice was arrested for her slaying directly afterwards.

  But when would the pain decease?

  Uncomfortable, Cutie removed her wet clothing, plummeted to her knees and hauled the box from under the bed that she’d stolen from Mooney’s apartment. Inside was a plethora of information on Farah Cotton and The Fold, which had recently become her obsession.

  Removing a black leather book with raised red letters from the pile, she stumbled over to the light and turned it off before convening on the bed and caressing the thick cool texture. On her mattress she turned on the lamp and eased deeper into the thickness of her bubble gum colored comforter. With her back against the head post she hulled back the cover of the book.

  A grin spread across her face as she viewed what she believed was Farah’s handwriting.

  “Okay, Farah Cotton…tell me the rest of your story,” she whispered. “Please.”

  CHAPTER ONE

  FARAH COTTON

  “Let’s Not Forget About The Hunt.”

  On top of Bones’ black and red handcrafted wooden bed, elevated from the floor just so, Farah gazed down at him as she rocked her hips smoothly, his thickness tucked inside the walls of her pussy like a gun inside a holster. Her sandy brown bob swept against the sides of her angular face as she moaned.

  Whenever Bones looked upon her his stare was intense. As if having her in his presence, amongst The Fold, would end at anytime. His obsession growing daily, his greatest fear was that she would withdraw from his life, something he would never tolerate due to his possessiveness.

  When Farah felt him pulsating she leaned to her left where Zashay sat patiently on her knees waiting to serve the couple. Cascades of her fire truck colored hair poured down her brown shoulders making her even more alluring.

  Using the golden razor blade that sat in the cup of her red bra, Farah removed it and sliced into the flesh of Zashay’s upper arm, just how Farah liked it. Overcome with lust Farah snaked her shiny pink tongue along the red trail oozing from her flesh and sucked lightly, causing Zashay to whimper.

  More aroused, Farah’s pussy juice drizzled along the shaft of Bones’ dick turning his chocolate stick icy white. She felt her euphoria coming on in any minute.

  As if she were heavier than 20 kilos of cocaine, Farah’s body slammed into Bones’ muscular chest, her breast pushing against his toasty body.

  Wanting to feel her skin he removed her bra, flinging it on the floor.

  On all fours Zashay eased between them, and positioned her body so she could run her tongue along the outer walls of Bones’ dick as it slipped in and out of Farah’s creamy pussy.

  With Zashay turning the fuck fest up a notch, Bones gripped at Farah’s breast and sucked her nipple causing Farah to erupt. Always the attentive type, Bones gave her other breast the same treatment even though she was already satisfied. He was willing to continue to suck until Zashay’s tongue slid into the cheeks of his asshole, causing him to explode into Farah’s flesh.

  “Damn, Farah, you…you got me going, baby,” he said giving her all the credit and Zashay none of the glory.

  “That’s one thing we do greatly together,” she moaned. “If nothing else.”

  He wiped her natural hair behind her ear and looked down into her yellow face. “Love me, Farah. I need you to love me.”

  Zashay cleared her throat. “Excuse me?”

  Both Farah and Bones laughed. “Sorry, sexy,” Bones said winking at her. “Forgot you were down there.”

  “I can see that. So I guess ya’ll got yours again and leaving me hanging,” Zashay pouted, hoping the threesome’s adventure would last well into the night. “Besides I was just getting started.”

  Bones looked down at Farah who’s eyes appeared heavy and said, “I’m sorry, Z, but I don’t think we got a minute more in us.”

  “You know what,”— she slid off the bed, snatched her red and black robe marked with ‘THE FOLD’ logo on the chest and slipped it on— “Don’t call me when ya’ll need help in the future.” She switched out the door, leaving it open.

  Farah sighed. “Why’s she getting so serious all of a sudden?” She grabbed one of his neat dreads that hung along the sides of his shoulders and wrapped it around her index finger. He kept his hair fresh which was one of the things she appreciated about him. “She knows what it is when we get together.”

  Bones sighed. “It’s different with Zashay.” He shrugged. “Members of The Fold feel they should be treated differently if INVITED while GIVERS don’t.”

  “We can’t vet Givers right now, Bones.” She sat up and crawled toward the headboard, her back resting against it. “Why not go out and Shikar (Hunt) instead of bringing them here? These days we have to be careful.”

  He chuckled. “You sure the real reason you don’t want Givers is due to jealousy?” He paused “Because if you don’t want me to be with an Outsider it’s not a problem.”

  Farah laughed and rolled her eyes. “When have you known me to be jealous, Bones? Name one time I didn’t allow you your Taste? Giver or not. I mean didn’t we just fuck a bitch together?”

  “Then why so heavy?”

  “I expressed myself and you aren’t hearing me. It’s not smart to bring new people here right now, Bones. It’s not—”

  “You don’t think I can protect you?” He asked severing her sentence.

  She gazed at him. “They are still searching for me. You know that. Do you actually think they’re going to forgive the fact that I killed their brother? Whether in self defense or not?” She moved closer. “You have to be careful on who you allow here even if they’re properly vetted. But out there….” Her eyes lit up and seemed to sparkle. “Out there we can do whatever we desire and have the cover of night. I mean don’t you miss it? Travelling together and looking for the perfect Givers?”

  “You did things differently than we did, Farah. We have a system that has protected us for years. From diseases and everything.” He shook his head. “Why do you feel the need to tell me how to run things? Next to Dr. Weil I’m in charge.” He pointed at the door.

  “Yes, I miss Shikar but it has to be done properly,” he continued as he ran his hand alongside her face and exhaled. “Listen, it’s been eight months, Farah. They aren’t going to look for you, Mia and Shadow forever. In the meantime I feel more comfortable bringing Givers here.”

  She sighed. “It may have been almost a year but to the Bakers it’s like yesterday. Allowing anyone to come into the mansion is opening ourselves up for a trap.”

  “You’re bein
g unreasonable.”

  Farah sighed and scooted off the bed, snatching her silk red THE FOLD robe off the back of her chair. Bones followed and walked up behind her as she stood in front of the mirror. For a second Farah took in their reflections. In his eyes she was the epitome of beauty—flawless skin with innocent features. And he was athletically built, with neat dreadlocks running down his back.

  Just looking at them together got people horny.

  And yet something was wrong.

  Where was the love?

  “You’re bored?” He asked.

  “Exceedingly,” she exhaled.

  “So let’s restart the Vetting process. I will double check them before bringing them home.”

  He didn’t understand and the frustration was mounting. “My family is here, Bones. And while I appreciate you hiding Mia and Shadow out until this Baker shit blows over we’re only as safe as the people you allow into the front door. Vetted or not.” She paused. “I mean do you want me to leave? Because I—”

  “Don’t talk like that.”

  “You promised me fun but that part of our arrangement is missing.” She paused. “If you don’t want to hunt I’ll go alone.”

  “No, hunts are always done in twos and are cancelled until further notice.” He roared. “And if I find out you’ve disobeyed me I will never forgive you.”

  “Then come with me!” She said excitedly, gripping his hands and looking into his eyes. “Unless”— she separated from him and watched his reflection in the mirror— “the real reason is because you want to control me and you can do that if I taste here. Under your prying eyes.”