Charity

By Mara Reboi

 

Charity Wellington never thought her perfect life plan could fast forward from a perfect wedding to a bleak funeral faster than it had taken her husband to find a way to a bridesmaid's panties. But then again, she had assumed that she could watch that funeral from the Heavens as an old maid and a mother of 3, NOT as a 21-years-old virgin. 

 

Instead of her dream life, she finds herself stuck in the Land of the Dead, with five women from all the parts of history; an 80's zombie, an Ancient Egyptian mummy, withering corpse from the Regency era, half skeleton of Ancient Greece, and a cavewoman from before any form of bra had been invented. All of them trapped there, doomed to turn into bone dust that blows through every Christmas and claims the dead who failed to find Peace.

 

Adamant to avoid her new fate as speck on the face of the universe, Charity agrees to fight for her rotting flesh with acts of kindness and hard work. She is guided to the right path by Prudence who hides her hands with gloves and secrets with piles of furniture but makes Charity's dead heart glow with care - something she never thought could grow in such a senseless place. But when an easy way out back into the land of the Living comes to Charity...she takes a risk that leads both worlds into Chaos. 

 

Can Charity find a way to stop the Apocalypse and find her way back to Prudence to make things right again?

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mara Reboi
• Release date: May 30, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201016388

Book preview

Thank you

To my proofreader Hannah for spotting all the times I repeated a lot A LOT, and to my always supportive partner who helped me to finish this version of Charity by baiting me with a new video game we can play together. I love you.

And to you reading this...

...I hope you aren’t expecting a sappy love story.

Published by Mara Reboi

Copyright 2022 May Mara Reboi

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All right reserved.

No part of this book, its cover or contents may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in book reviews.

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Cover by by hiisikoloART

Illustration copyright 2021 May

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@hiisikolo_art

Charity lacked nothing in her life; not beauty, manners, money, or friends, nor a handsome, loving husband who put her above all else. The husband, Richard Coleman, she had only acquired that very day, but it had completed her ultimate list of virtues. Not only was she the best wife who could cut their wedding cake like a pro, she truly lived up to her name as well. She felt proud of giving away her designer clothes to those in need, often her cousins, and always volunteered to help build up events to raise money for important functions that bettered humankind; private schools and alike.

Bubbling champagne almost spilled onto a marble floor from the crystal flute she held as she glided along in her diamond shoes. She leaned on the groomsman who had graciously offered to dance with her while her husband; she loved that word, was taking a break in the little boys' room. A giggle escaped her lips when she thought of calling him a little boy; a model of a man as tall as a tree. She had needed to tiptoe on her exceedingly high heels to give him their first kiss which also was her first-ever. It had been more like a peck on the lips but that had made butterflies fly in her stomach and her legs go weak for the amazing man she had just wedded and could call her husband.

The word tasted just like the champagne she was now allowed to drink; merry, sweet, and with a hint of cinnamon.

Ignoring her aching feet, Charity danced a bit more at their wedding ball, or after-party as poor people called them, surrounded by twenty large Christmas trees decorated with golden ribbons and fake snow and icicles. Richard had not wanted the real things for those so he had paid an artisan to create all the two thousand delicate glass spikes to hang from each branch. People were watching her waltz with rosy cheeks glowing and smiled at the happy bride giving her impressed nods for the decor and theme. Some, of course, did not enjoy the Winter Wonderland-theme but even they did not have a cross word to say about the food that was cooked right in front of their eyes to their exact liking.

I absolutely must sit down for a moment, Charity hid her giggle behind her gloved hand. I feel just a tad dizzy, she revealed to her dance partner who nodded and helped her to sit at the bridal table.

She ruffled the long poofy feathers in her gown and tried to catch her breath. Instantly she had a new champagne flute in hand and a glass of water to accompany it. A single ice snowflake floated in it.

The water somehow tasted better than the expensive brew and chilled her on its way down and allowed her to think more clearly. Perhaps the last glass out of five had been a tad too much for her to handle after all. Clouds in her mind chased away, she looked around trying to find her dark-eyed lover.

Have you seen my husband? she asked the waitress ready to bring her anything she could possibly need.

No, mam, she replied very politely, Not since he left with the miss.

Miss?

Miss Tipton. Your bridesmaid. The waitress looked down and bit her lip a little. They went to the direction of the ladies' room.

Is there some kind of issue in the lavatory?

Not that I know of, mam.

Why would they-

The waitress was just about to reply to that but one of the 12 groomsmen shooed her away by sitting right next to Charity on the Groom’s seat.

Anthony. What a lovely surprise, Charity’s voice was cheery but somehow she brought out winter chill into the words. She disliked Anthony deeply knowing very well his wild nature with women. Her mother and father had told her many stories of how he dragged poor Richard into parties he did not enjoy the slightest and drew him into bad paths. That is why Richard, not Anthony, needed a wife like Charity-loyal, pure, and strong enough to avoid any and all temptations. He also looked like a mirror image of Richard’s strong nose and jaw, dark thick hair, stern but so kissable lips and eyes that looked at her like... She had to remind herself that this was not Richard and the wedding night was still hours away. She had waited 21 years, she could wait a little longer for his embrace. She regained her control swiftly and coldly continued with: To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?

I thought I’d come to see my sister-in-law! Anthony grinned and took her champagne glass. You looked so very lonely. He was enjoying himself at the party, his hair was a mess and his tie had seen better days. Earlier that day. Before he had had his fun with two waitresses in the back room. He inspected her from head to toe with an approving face and chugged down the drink. You look great.

Thank you, but I am fine by myself.

Are you sure now?

The only company I will be needing is my husband. I suppose you would know where he has gone to? She grabbed the glass from his hand and gave it to the waitress who gladly took it away. Or have you forgotten that your duty in this wedding is to make sure that everything runs smoothly?

Oh, I have not forgotten, His smile grew suspiciously larger. I made sure that at least a couple things were smooth and silky...

I will go look for him.

No need. He’ll show up eventually, Anthony got up at the same time with her blocking her attempt to leave. On his face was his kindest smile. That very smile Charity had already learned not to trust.

Let me pass.

Why don't we just sit here and drink a couple more glasses, and I will tell you All the embarrassing stories about Dick that I remember from our childhood.

Charity thought about that for a moment but she had been taught that gossip was from the devil so she just pushed him aside, gathered her long flowing skirt in her hand and walked towards the toilets, or where she thought the toilets were.

It took her three tries to find the right gold embellished door to the men’s room, which she swiftly exited once she noticed that she was not alone and the person residing in there was ‘taking a leak’ as some crude people like Anthony liked to say. The man was as old as her father with greying hair and seemed unbothered to see her there. He even wiggled his eyebrows at her but the two thick caterpillar-like bushes strode the air without an audience for a good minute before he stopped and sighed in disappointment. He would have so enjoyed showing her his war medals on his lapel.

A few more doors down the winter decorated corridor and a single turn behind a corner later she found the ladies' toilet and one of the groomsmen guarding it. He seemed relaxed in his uniform black suit and Armani shoes but his knuckles hit the door at an alarming rate.

Charity frowned at him. Why are you not at the party?

My date has some kind of stomach flu.

Is Brie all right? Charity placed her hand on her chest, worry in her voice. She must have been horribly fast to run all the way from the dance floor to here before me... she placed her other hand on the door. I must check on her.

The groomsman that Charity had identified as Patrick O’Cunningham, son of a mining millionaire, tried slowly to block her way. She is REALLY sick. I would not go in if I was you. We wouldn’t want the bride to get sick too, would we? the pitch in his voice rose above casual.

Charity placed both of her hands on Patrick’s dress shirt and straightened his tie a bit more than it required. Is he in there? she asked with a low voice. "Is my husband in there with someone?"

Partick did not get a say before a hurricane dressed in red pushed both him and Charity off its way and entered the toilet. Both of them stared at the large woman disappear into a stall with torture in her face. Her repetition of ‘nononononono’ was audible until the door closed by itself and muted the ‘yesyesyes’ that seemed to come from inside the room as well.

Charity looked at Patrick and attacked the door before the poor man with a little too many idle brain cells could do anything. He grimaced at the door opening and closing in front of him, decided it was not his place, and slowly backed off from the door and what he assumed was about to happen. Aware of his own shortcomings he tried to look as idle as possible walking back to the party and closing the door leading to the toilets and the entry to the grand hall above a large beautiful staircase.

In the ladies' room, Charity heard two things and wished to hear either of them. The lady in red, Countess Echam, she assumed, had her own issues to worry about so Charity tried to close her out of her consciousness but the furthest of the stalls was shaking from another kind of noise. She listened to it for a moment before she heard another word than ‘yes’.

Was that you? a deep man’s voice whispered.

The other person could only