Never Whistle in The House

By Jerrimiah Stonecastle

In 1925 Faustus Sala fell in love. In 1929 the stock market crashed. in 1944 he murdered his entire family. Before taking his own life he cursed his house. If anyone whistled inside the house, they would summon an evil from the bowels of hell to collect a debt that can never be repaid. The forgiveness of love betrayed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stonecastle Publications LLC
• Release date: Oct 30, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393171270

Jerrimiah Stonecastle

Jerrimiah Stonecastle was born and raised in the South Bronx, New York to a single parent. His mom is a retired New York City educator who always pushed him to reach for excellence in all that he did. In 2002 he retired from New York City civil service and relocated to North Florida. There he started his writing career with a trilogy series called UC 630 Cop or Criminal:The Crack Wars. In 2016 he formed his own Indie publishing company Stonecastle Publications whose slogan is "Throwing Stones At A Glass House". He now has published 4 books and is currently working on his 5th which is due to be released in January 2018.

Book preview

CONTENTS

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Joanna Penn, your YouTube videos were so informative and inspiring for me. I discovered the ups and downs of this career through your experiences.

Bob Proctor’s speeches changed the way

I viewed my world as a writer and businessman.

My Editor in chief, Ms. Elaine McCarthy

Special shout out to

Julie Broad

Of Book Launchers

Your inspirational videos were valuable to me.

B e sober, be vigilant , because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour.

1 Peter 5:8

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D

arla Collins was the oldest of seven siblings born to Christopher and Amy Collins, Irish immigrants. Christopher was a $1.25 an hour bricklayer who worked hard to support the family. Amy was a dutiful housewife.

Christopher was also a hard drinker and Amy would wait outside his job on payday to grab his check before he could spend it all in the pub. This was not uncommon as the presence of other wives confirmed. Christopher would try to worm more than the one dollar out of her, but Amy, a strong-willed woman, would stand her ground.

Amy’s education ended when she became pregnant in her second year of high school by Christopher, then a neighborhood loafer. They were married within a week of Amy’s father and six uncles getting the news. One of the uncles in attendance was well known to carry a gun.

Amy went into labor on the eve of Halloween. She prayed that she would not deliver her baby on Halloween. Amy feared the old wives’ tale that a baby born on Halloween would be cursed. It took Amy 18 hours to push Darla out. She emerged a few minutes before midnight on Halloween.

Much to Amy’s relief, Darla was delivered in good health and with strong lungs. Christopher did not share in Amy’s exuberance when he heard the news. Christopher walked into the delivery room, looked at Darla, and then headed straight to the nearest pub.

All the local pregnancy experts, soothsayers, and astrological signs predicted the baby would be a boy. A boy, Christopher hoped, would be earning a living by the age of twelve. Now, he would be burdened with a girl he would have to protect from boys like him when he met Amy.

Christopher would have to endure the same disappointment four more times before the birth of Michael Christopher Collins. Only then did the ribbing about his potency cease at the Friday after-work visits to the pub.

1925 New York City  Hell’s Kitchen

What are you wearing to the Halloween party at the college tomorrow night? asked Ruby Henderson, Darla’s best friend since Kindergarten.

What party? Darla asked as she fought to brush her younger sister’s hair.

Why the first gala of the year at Baruch College, of course. I told you about it last month. It’s where you have the greatest chance of getting a successful husband. My mom wouldn’t let me go last year because I was only 17. But now that I’m 18, I’m going to get me a college man.

I’m not going. We don’t have the money to buy a costume.

You are going to that party, Darla, said Amy coming out of the kitchen. It was supposed to be a surprise, but I’ll tell you now. Your father and I have been saving up for a costume. Let’s go try it on.

Ruby, will you finish Rita’s hair for me? Darla asked.

Of course, go get dressed, she said, taking the brush from her.

It was more than an hour before Darla returned. She was dressed as a princess, including a plastic silver crown covered with glitter. In her ears were Amy’s only pair of ruby red earrings that matched the red lipstick Darla was wearing. The bodice made Darla’s breast swell to eye-catching proportions. Darla had her shiny black hair wrapped up in a bun that completed the image of royalty. Her silver shoes raised her 5-foot 8-inch frame another inch.

Oh my God, you look like a Queen, Darla, Ruby said.

You look pretty, Darla, agreed Rita.

I’m Cinderella, said Darla, curtseying, and spinning around.

Something is missing? observed Ruby.

No there isn’t, she said, lifting up a silver glittery mask attached to a stick and holding it in front of her face.

Now, you’re complete. Please leave one man for me, Darla.

As Ruby had predicted, when they walked into the gymnasium of the college, they were swarmed by young suitors vying for Darla’s attention. Ruby wasn’t complaining because she was benefiting as well.

Ruby was also attractive but appeared more mature than Darla. She was attracting the attention of the upperclassmen which suited her just fine. Within ten minutes she had several dance requests. However, Ruby had already made up her mind as to whom she was going to spend most of her time with. It was a tall, dark, and handsome chap who walked over with two drinks in his hand.

Here you go, young lady, he said. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Bret Dawson, and you are?

I’m Ruby Henderson, and this is my best friend, Darla Collins, she said, curtseying.

That’s a great costume, Ms. Collins, Bret said. I take it you’re Snow White?

No, I’m Cinderella, she said, curtseying.

Ah, yes, I see it now, he said. And you, Ms. Henderson, must be a beautiful witch because you’ve got me under your spell.

Is that spell compelling you to walk me home after the party? Ruby asked coyly.

I have a carriage at my disposal, for both of you, said Bret.

Do you have an identical brother? Darla asked, causing the group to break out in laughter.

There were other eyes watching the pair garner all the attention. These eyes were filled with envy and belonged to several ladies who were abandoned when Darla and Ruby entered. All they could do was wait for the men that didn’t measure up to return.

One young man who didn’t make the grade was a sophomore named Faustus Sala. Standing at a mere 5-feet 7-inches, he had to look up to Darla. The first thing Darla, and most people noticed about him was his thick eyebrows. Faustus was always overweight. He took after his father who was also a very large man. His costume was that of Count Dracula. He wore a long black cape, black pants, and a white shirt. His hair was slicked back with hair oil.

What are you supposed to be?