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    Marmalade and Murder: Tales of the South
    Marmalade and Murder: Tales of the South
    Marmalade and Murder: Tales of the South
    Ebook56 pages1 hour

    Marmalade and Murder: Tales of the South

    By Mariah Williams

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    About this ebook

    Here is a summary of my completed18,349 word count Southern Gothic short story collection “Marmalade and Murder: Tales of the South”. Within these five stories, you will be taken to sleepy southern states and immersed into tales as sinful and decadent as your Aunt Montgomery’s’ Mississippi Mud Pie.

    In “Praying with the Devil: A Tale of Adolescence and Sin” you are transported to sleepy somber Maycomb, Alabama where you meet a young girl name Addie Carnegie. Addie is a eight year old feeble girl who meets a beautiful yet mysterious woman name Ms. Hemingway who takes her on a journey of self discovery. Allow Addie to grip her small broken hands on your heart and push you into a world filled with angels, devils, life lessons, and forgiveness.

    Death House takes place in Savannah, Georgia where we are introduced to Kelly Adkins, a young librarian. She learns there is an eerie house in her neighborhood where many folks are being murdered. With fright and curiosity she decides to risk her own life to explore the house, and eventually meets the killer face to face.

    “Hard Toffee” puts us in Raleigh, North Carolina knocking on the pearly white embellished front door of the Boone family. We enter the life of Rhiannon, a young but intelligent girl who experiences a terrifying loss, and forced to enter a world of adulthood, tragedy, and pain. With the help of faith and some southern hospitality, Rhiannon learns about death, survival, and the sweetness of life itself.

    In the Cajun flavored spicy town like New Orleans there is always something cooking. We meet Ms. Delavigne and her daughter Lucy. Ms. Valentine is a black housekeeper who stays with the Delavigne family with her daughter Biddy. As the Delavigne family is exposed to black culture, a brutal murder takes place and only two make it out alive.

    Things seem deviously sweet in Charleston, South Carolina with the elderly Willows couple. Ethel and Birdy have been together for 49 years and their love is stronger than ever, until there is an accident that leaves one of them devastated and driven to insanity and chaos

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherMariah Williams
    Release dateMar 20, 2015
    ISBN9781311308542
    Marmalade and Murder: Tales of the South
    Author

    Mariah Williams

    Hello my name is Mariah Williams and I am an author and I write short screenplays. I have been a writer since I was six years old. I have always loved writing stories and many years later I still love it just as much. I absolutely adore the process of character creation and theme. I have always known writing was what I would do forever.I have written two books. My first one is titled "Creativity on a Roll", which is a poetry book. The second one is titled "Marmalade and Murder: Tales of the South" which is a short story collection.I have dreamed of being an author since I was in first grade. I am living my dream, whether I sell 1 copy or 1,000,000. It really doesn't matter if I ever become a rich and successful author. Even if only one person reads my book and says it changed their life, I am just happy with that.So go live your life and do that thing that you have always wanted to do.Thank you for allowing me to live my dream.

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      Book preview

      Marmalade and Murder - Mariah Williams

      Marmalade and Murder: Tales of the South

      By

      Mariah Williams

      Praying with the Devil: A Tale of Adolescence and Sin

      Come on! You’re almost at the top! yelled Jeremy. I can’t! I’m coming down! I managed to scream out. There I was, stuck in a 15 foot tree. I was almost at the top, but I was afraid. Death looked me straight into the face. I kissed him. He blushed. Sissy! all the boys yelled at me. My eyes became tsunamis instantly. As I tried to climb down my foot got tangled with a branch and I tumbled all the way down ending with a hard kiss to the gravel. I could feel my front tooth go though my lip. As I could feel the summer warm blood run down my mouth like the Niagara Falls I realized how weak I was. Legs covered in red blood and dirt, my face looked exactly the same. My strawberry blonde hair was in a tangled mess. My blue and white striped shirt was covered in dirt. My legs looked as if I tried to shave with sandpaper and broken glass. I was humiliated. Addie, just look at you! the boys called to me. You’re a mess, go home loser! And just like that I took off running home at the speed of light.

      Maycomb, Alabama was like this. It was dense, rough, and opaque. I liked it here but I know it’s not the place for me. It fits me, but it doesn’t suit me.

      As I approached my house, I quickly ran behind it to rinse off with the hose. My mother and father would kill me if they saw me with wet eyes and open skin. I felt like a fish out of water, completely out of breath as I stand there drenched. I shook my body like a wet dog and ran inside the broken white door of my house. Addie Nadine Carnegie! my mother scolded. Why in mothers’ nature do you resemble a beaten, wet dog? Her mother’s eyebrows knit together. Well, I sorta fell down in a puddle. I lied. Was it a muddy, bloody puddle? my mother asked. No ma’am", I said. I was shaking with fear. Not because I lied to my mom and she was smart enough to know I was lying, but because I could hear God writing my name on his Hell list. Could he ever forgive me?

      Staring at a plate of mashed potatoes, pork chops, and Mississippi mud pie I had an epiphany. If I didn’t want people laughing at me, I would have to learn to laugh at myself. That way, nothing would be funny. After stuffing my face I ran upstairs to my room and quickly doodled on white paper.

      I drew a picture of me, mouth wide open with a big toothy smile laughing, laughing hard. My gums were showing and my hands were in the air. I drew my strawberry blonde hair as a trail of beauty. I drew myself breathtaking beautiful, completely opposite of what I saw in the mirror. I glanced over at the small delicate girl staring back at me. She was weird and unpopular. She was bruised, inside and out. She had hate in her heart and love in her imagination. Every bruise on her body stood for every painful event she had been through. She was a strong angel, just with broken wings. I laid my head on my pillow and demanded my conscious to be quiet. I didn’t count sheep; I counted the sore torn bruises on my body. I counted up to 22, and then drifted off into Paradise.

      Get up you’re going to be late for school! Under the soft cotton sheets I lay restless. Opening my eyes I could see bright light. I prayed I was in heaven. I prayed God drained my lifeless soul and took me to heaven away from my pain. It was just the sun in my eyes. I pushed my sore body up and out of my comforting bed. I placed my bruised, broken hands over my eyes. I saw darkness. Was that what people saw when they looked at me? I managed to carry myself into the shower. I turned the water on hot and let my soul burn with desired fear. I let God cleanse me of all unrighteousness. I felt something happening to me. I started to wake up. A half smile washed over my face. This was me trying to be normal. I quickly tied my hair into a ballet bun and got dressed. There I stood in a red t shirt, ripped shorts and white shoes. I didn’t have time to eat breakfast so I poured a glass of orange juice and headed out the door. On my way walking to school I heard my tummy growling and the autumn breeze rustle through the trees.

      On my way there I passed Ms. Hemingway’s house. Ms. Hemingway was a beautiful goddess. Well, she still is. It wasn’t just the way she looked; her beauty was something inside of her. It was a flower blooming inside her. She watered it with happiness. It was the way she walked, the way she spoke with others, the way she sipped her coffee and read the morning paper. It was the way she looked at me. As if she knew something about me that

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