Who killed Wanda Day? (DAY! Series Book 1)

Chapter One - The goddess of fear

This is the first book of the DAY!-Series.

Prepare for a dialogue-heavy rollercoaster ride, where the "f-bomb" is dropped more times than an annoying toddler.

But wait, there's more! This book also packs a punch when it comes to violence and graphic scenes. Don't worry, there's no smutty romance to be found - just good old-fashioned, cringe-inducing brutality. It's like a Quentin Tarantino movie but with even more blood and guts.

So, if you're the type who enjoys a little (or a lot) of profanity, gore, and overall mayhem, serial killers, dry humor, and cussing - then this is the book for you.

Just don't say I didn't warn you!

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Wanda Day claimed to be an ordinary woman in an ordinary city with a perfectly ordinary job. But Wanda was a good liar and she knew that as well.

When chatting with Mrs. Dawson at the bakery, Wanda liked to poke fun at the endless stream of conferences that took over her hotel, and the mess the business types left behind. With Mrs. Flint, the supermarket worker, she commiserated about the never-ending piles of laundry she had to tackle, and the stubborn stains that refused to budge. And when she talked to Mr. Paul, the elderly library owner, Wanda would bemoan her fate as a kitchen worker.

Sure, on the surface, Wanda Day seemed like your average Jane running the only hotel in Youngsville, a tiny town of 712 folks nestled in the Alaskan woods. But don't be fooled by appearances. Wanda's hotel was the place to be, with conferences happening left and right and businessmen from all corners of the globe flocking to stay. And you know what they say about money - it talks. Her hotel was a boon for the local shops, and she quickly became a beloved figure in the community. Because no one knew her secret.

But let's rewind for a moment: Wanda Day had a fairly typical upbringing. Born in the mid-80s in an even tinier village in Alaska, she was raised by parents who embraced the concept of free love and constantly encouraged her to pursue her dreams. And young Wanda had a vague inkling of what she wanted to make of her life.

At the tender age of seven, she committed her first feline homicide - and not just any old cat, mind you. No, it was the rotund and obnoxious Chuckles, the neighbor's pet who had been eyeing Wanda's guinea pigs like they were a five-star meal. And that just didn't sit right with Wanda. So one day, when her parents were preoccupied inside, she snuck into the garden and lay in wait for fat Chuckles.

After sweet-talking the chunky fluff and stroking his furry head, she delivered a swift and deadly blow with a nearby stone. She spent hours staring at the lifeless body before finally burying it under a towering fir tree in the backyard. And as she shoveled dirt onto the makeshift grave, Wanda realized she had discovered her true calling.

During the following months, a peculiar trend unfolded in the neighborhood as cats and dogs mysteriously vanished without a trace. The perplexed residents embarked on desperate searches for their beloved pets, unaware that the killer was often among those lending a helping hand in the quest for the missing animals. Little did they suspect that "Charlie," "Max," and "Skeeter" had long found their resting place beneath the sheltering canopy of the forest.

As she approached her twelfth birthday, she began to realize the importance of discretion. The neighbors had begun to cast suspicious glances at John Peters, the fifteen-year-old son of the local vicar, but there was no concrete evidence to implicate him. Rumors of a pet-napper with murderous intentions quickly spread throughout the village. That night, Wanda inscribed her first rule in her diary, using bold, red letters to emphasize its importance.

1. NEVER KILL SOMEONE YOU KNOW!

During the subsequent three years, Wanda seized every opportunity to hop on her bicycle and venture into the neighboring villages in search of unsuspecting prey. She meticulously set traps in the forest, targeting squirrels, mice, and moles, relishing in the various methods she employed to end their lives. The sound of a neck snapping brought her a twisted sense of delight, but she also found herself captivated by the act of strangulation. The overwhelming surge of power that coursed through her veins surpassed even her wildest dreams.