Angels of Appalachia: A Celestial Collections of Darkness and Light

By Ellen Thompson McCloud and Lesa Pascavis Smith

The fabric of Appalachian Folklore is woven with mysterious tales of magic and the mountains. Folks in Appalachia have told stories about angels for decades and truly believe in their existence. These celestial beings are our messengers. They teach us, protect us, and sometimes have mischief or even malevolence in mind.
Angels are said to visit the living in both light and dark forms. Angels of Appalachia: A Celestial Collection of Darkness and Light, invites you to believe with us. Light or dark, allow these tales to unfold as feathery wings within your own imagination.
Our journey on earth is anything but ordinary . . . when we entertain angels unaware.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 22, 2015
• ISBN: 9781514409411

Ellen Thompson McCloud

Ellen Thompson McCloud was raised in the beautiful mountains of southern West Virginia in Logan County. The backdrop of mountainous terrain, clear streams, wildlife, and deep woods inspires her writing themes. An avid outdoors woman, Ellen enjoys everything that West Virginia has to offer in Mother Nature’s playground. Ellen discovered her love of reading at a very young age. Fascinated by the classic works of Bram Stoker, Edgar Allen Poe, and Mary Shelley, she knew horror and dark genre was her passion. Today she explores every creaking door, shadow figure in the window, and all things that lurk in one’s state of fear or dread. She loves horror movies, books, and writes to “comfort the disturbed people in her life . . . and make the comfortable people feel very disturbed.” Having been published in several anthologies, Ellen has also cowritten two collections, which are Shadows and Mountains: Tales from the Dark Heart of Appalachia and Angels of Appalachia: Celestial Tales of Dark and Light. Future short stories are under consideration, and Ellen is currently working on a full-length horror novel. She lives in southern West Virginia with her family and a host of pets. Follow Ellen on Facebook, www.facebook.com/candyo121, or check out her website, ellenthompsonmccloud.com. Lesa Pascavis Smith lives in West Virginia and often draws inspiration for her stories from the Appalachian hills and hollows rich with mystery and intrigue. Lesa wrote her first ghost story at the tender age of seven and now gravitates toward the darker side of writing, often weaving spiritual and supernatural elements throughout the pages. Lesa’s works have been featured in the Were-Traveler e-zine—“The Revenge of the Combine Killer,” to be in the upcoming Redneck Zombies of Outer Space, edited by Jonathan Maberry—and she had stories featured in Bones I, II and III, edited by James Ward Kirk. Lesa’s latest work, Unclaimed, is included in the Chilling Ghost Short Stories Gothic and Fantasy Series by Flame Tree Publishing, UK. It is scheduled for world-wide release in September, 2015. She has also co-written a collection of stories, Angels of Appalachia: a celestial collection of darkness and light. Want to see what else Lesa is up to? Visit her website, www.dyingtowrite.weebly.com or visit her on her Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/dyingtowrite

Book preview

Copyright © 2015 by Ellen Thompson McCloud/Lesa Pascavis Smith.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2015915412

ISBN:      Hardcover   978-1-5144-0943-5

                Softcover     978-1-5144-0942-8

                eBook           978-1-5144-0941-1

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 09/18/2015

Xlibris

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Contents

•   Daddy Dearest

•   Granny Smith

•   Fly

•   Mesmerized

•   On A Wing And A Prayer

•   Nessa Knows

•   Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep

•   Casting Stones

•   The Legend Of The Angel Crown

•   Back To Good

•   Sacrifices

•   Cold Dead Buried

•   Dirt Cheap

•   Momma’s Boy

•   As I

•   Repent

For my sons, Dakota and Montana McCloud: You share my odd sense of humor, tolerate my insanity, and always embrace the darkness with your Momma. I LOVE YOU! YOU ROCK!

To Chuck, Sydney, Jacob, Jesse and Jagur. My tribe of Smith Earth Angels!

THANK YOU

We would like to say a very special THANK YOU to

Michael Demagall for his photo

HASSEROT ANGEL

This was the perfect choice for our book cover

Check Michael’s photography out at:

www.fineartamerica.com and www.facebook.com/michael.demagall.7

Thank You for letting us borrow her… she is simply lovely!

Daddy Dearest

BY

LESA PASCAVIS SMITH

Since I’ll be in town for Jared’s soccer match, I thought I would spend the night with you. Susan drew in a quick breath before continuing. We could have dinner and visit a bit. You know, get caught up.

I guess. It has been a while.

Susan rubbed her forehead with her free hand. Last time we saw each other was Christmas. Since Jared’s match is in Clarksburg, I thought it would be nice if I come by.

Paul Landers glanced around the empty house. You know I can’t come to that soccer thing. I’ve got to help Pastor Norwood put down new carpet in the church office.

I know, Daddy. But we could meet for dinner and then I could stay the night. I’ll fix your favorite, blueberry pancakes, for breakfast.

Hmm, Paul said. I do like those pancakes. Now, you say Jared won’t be staying?

His dad is coming to the match and then taking him for the weekend. It will be just the two of us.

Silence filled the line.

Daddy. Are you still there?

Paul let out a heavy exhale. I suppose if it is just the two of us, it will be all right. The boy won’t be coming?

No, Daddy. Jared won’t be coming. Susan fought the anger building inside her. What father didn’t want to visit with his own grandson, for heaven’s sake? It will be just the two of us. I’ll see you on Saturday, then.

Susan had just hung up the phone when her husband walked in from the garage.

I take it from the look on your face you’ve been talking to your dad.

Oh, Daniel, Susan said melting into his arms. That man tries every last nerve in my body.

Daniel pulled her tighter and then rubbed her back. I know he loved you and your mother, but he is just one of those men who can’t show emotion.

Susan pulled away and batted at a stray tear. Not show emotion! Are you kidding?

Daniel stood back a step and waited for her to continue.

When I got pregnant with Jared at seventeen, he showed more emotion that any person I have ever known. He let me know just what he thought of my choices and he did not mince words.

Honey, I know your dad wanted to kill Sam for getting you pregnant. What father wouldn’t want to do the same?

Susan’s hand flew up almost instinctively. As lousy a husband Sam was and he isn’t a much better father, it still wasn’t only his fault I got pregnant. It does take two, you know.

Daniel bit his bottom lip.

Oh, Daniel. I’m sorry. Of course you know it takes two. As hard as we are trying to have a child of our own, you, more than anyone else, know. Susan reached for his hand. I just let him get me so worked up.

Once again, Daniel drew his wife into him. The bottom line is he agreed to let you come and visit on Saturday. That is a good thing.

Susan nodded.

Oh, and there is another good thing.

Susan looked up at her husband. Tell me. I need more good things.

My mother bought a guardian angel candle yesterday and had the father bless it for us. So hopefully, the angels will help us conceive little Danny boy.

I am in no position to judge anyone’s beliefs. If your mother believes angels are watching over us and helping us, then who am I to doubt? What makes you think we would have a little Danny, anyway? It might just be little Susie Q.

The phone rang early Saturday morning. Jared rushed through the house in his soccer uniform and snatched the receiver. He mumbled a few words before handing it to his mother. It’s grandpa.

Dad, is everything all right?

Everything is fine. I just wanted to let you know that the church project is going to run a little late, so I can’t meet you for dinner. You go ahead and eat and then come to the house. I’ll leave the door unlocked.

Susan could feel the fire rising in her body as her cheeks flushed. Fine. I’ll be there around seven-thirty or so.

Now, you did say the boy will be going home with someone else, didn’t you?

Oh, for heaven’s sake, Dad. Yes. Jared is going home with his father. You remember him, don’t you? Sam Brewer. The silence on the line was unnerving. We can just forget the whole visit, if you’d like.

Seven-thirty is fine. See you this evening.

Susan hung up and tried to focus on more positive things, like helping her son find his cleats. She stuffed her feelings of resentment toward her father deep inside with the help of a chocolate donut.

The car was loaded and Susan gave her husband a hug. Tell your mother to light that candle for me today. I’ve got a strange feeling I am going to need it.

With Jared’s earbuds in and his eyes glued to his cell phone, Susan found plenty of time to think on the three hour trip to Clarksburg. She remembered back to when her mother passed away. She looked at the red haired twelve year old sitting beside her and fought a tear. He was six months old when his grandmother died. He never got the chance to know what a wonderful, loving woman she was. Her death took a hard toll on the entire family.

All Jared had ever known was a grandfather who sent cards on his birthday and showed up once a year for a quick Christmas Eve dinner. Her mother hadn’t approved of her unplanned pregnancy, but she accepted it and encourage the marriage to Sam. The marriage lasted a little more than a year. Susan choked the life from it by clinging so tight to him after her mother died.

Jared looked up at his mother and mouthed the words, How much longer?

We’re almost there, buddy boy.

What?

Jared, take those things out of your ears. We are almost there.

Jared’s team won the soccer match, although he didn’t play more than a few minutes. Most of his time, he was on the bench turning and looking into the crowd for his father.

After the match, he came running over to Susan. Mom, where’s dad?

I don’t know, buddy boy. I left him a message on his cell phone, but he hasn’t called me back.

He’s coming, isn’t he?

Susan smiled. She knew Sam’s track record for spending time with his son wasn’t great. She nodded anyway.

I am sure he’s probably tied up with work or something.

Check your messages again, Mom. I bet he’s called.

Susan pulled the phone from her jean pocket. No calls.

I’ll tell you what. Since your grandpa can’t meet me for dinner, you and I will go. I’ll call your dad and leave him a message to pick you up at the restaurant. Sound good?

Jared kicked at the dirt. I guess.

During their dinner at the only burger joint in the area, Susan’s phone beeped.

It’s dad! I know it!

Shh. Let me listen. Susan’s heart broke listening to the words of her ex.

Was it dad? He’s coming, right? Jared bounced in his seat.

Oh, buddy boy.

Jared’s eyes hardened. Not again.

Hey, it’s not a complete wash. You get to go with me to grandpas and spend the night, now.

Jared shoulders slumped. So.

So? Susan’s mind scrambled for an answer. Grandpa has one of those snazzy satellite TV things. We can order up a movie or two you’ve been wanting to watch. That will be fun, right?

Jared drug a French fry slowly through the mountain of ketchup on his plate. I guess. He popped the dripping potato strip into his mouth.

Great. We’d better get going. It’s almost eight o’clock. Grandpa was expecting us a half hour ago.

As they pulled up into the driveway of Paul Lander’s house, the porch light was on and his car was in the garage. Just as he had promised, the front door was unlocked. Susan and Jared went inside to a dimly lit living room. The light from the basement stairwell was the only illumination in the house.

Dad. Susan yelled several times but no one answered.

Is grandpa here?

I’ll bet he is downstairs at his desk. He probably nodded off. She checked her watch. After all, he did work hard today and it is eight-thirty.

Susan made her way down the first few steps with Jared behind her. A voice from behind caused her to stop.

Take Jared back upstairs now.

The voice was audible to Susan. It was not frightening, but she knew she needed to obey.

"Jared, I need