Title: The Mortician’s Wife
Author: Maralee Lowder
Genre: Horror, Paranormal
Horace Carpenter has it all…a lucrative business as the only mortician in town, a home he can be proud of and a reputation of being one of the most popular men in town. Maybe he should be content with what he has. But he wants more.
Ada Hawkins, the daughter of the town’s only physician has lived a sheltered yet, privileged life. When she meets Horace at her 18th birthday party, the shy, physically plain girl is entranced by his good looks and suave manners. In six months they are married, and in less than one week Ada suspects she has made the mistake of her life.
And that is where the story might have ended…should have ended. Ada is to endure years of torment until her husband commits the most unforgivable act possible. From that day forward she lives for one thing only, not just to end the torment, but to do it in the hateful way possible.
She achieves her goal, only to discover true evil does not die.
- Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/16237607-the-mortician-s-wife
- Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/The-Morticians-Wife-ebook/dp/B009KDVFEI/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1380295738&sr=8-1&keywords=the+mortician%27s+wife
Maralee Lowder saw herself as strictly a writer of romance novels…until she discovered a haunted old mortuary. There was something about the place that simply would not let her go. Was it really haunted? Were the stories she’d heard true that when the last mortician’s wife died over fifty years before no one had ever removed her possessions? That it remained exactly as it had been all those years ago?
As could be expected, her curiosity drove her to seek answers to those questions. And what she saw when she was given a complete tour of the building, from the rooms on the first floor where the mortician did his work, all the way to the fourth floor apartment at the top of the building, inspired even more questions.
Being a writer of novels, rather than doing research on the actual last mortician’s wife, she chose instead to let her imagination take over, answering the question, why did she choose to stay all alone in the huge building all those years? Was it haunted? And if it was haunted, who was doing the haunting, and why?
The answers to these questions are answered in Ms. Lowder’s fictional book, The Mortician’s Wife. As happens so often in a writer’s life, more questions came after she had finished writing The Mortician’s Wife. Some of the answers to those questions are answered in The Mortician’s Revenge, a sequel to The Mortician’s Wife that will available in October, 2013.
Ms. Lowder is currently busy asking herself more questions.
“I was just finishing putting away the last of the dishes away when I heard it. It was Joey, screaming in a way I had never heard him scream before. It sounded…unworldly, is the only way I can explain it. I dropped the plates I had been holding, not caring that they were smashed into a million pieces. With only one thought in mind, I raced toward the sound of my son’s voice.
“My heart stopped beating when I realized where the sound had come from. I didn’t want to believe it—couldn’t believe it—but in the very depths of my soul I knew. Joey had fallen down the stairwell.
“With my heart pounding so hard I could feel it pulsating in my ears, I yanked the door to the inside stairs open. Shock hit me hard and fast as I saw my son lying motionless on the landing just steps away from me. Was he…?
“Joey lay on his back, his arms and legs splayed wide. He was looking up at the ceiling. I prayed to God he was actually seeing it!
“”No, no, no,” I whimpered. “Please, God, no…’ He was so still! I was so afraid that he…
“And then, miracles of miracles, I saw him blink.
“’Call the doctor!’ Horace yelled at me from where he knelt beside our son. ‘Tell him to get here now!’
“I spun on my heels and raced to the telephone. I grabbed the receiver and reached out to dial the doctor’s office, then realized I had no idea what his number was. With my hands shaking so hard I could barely control them, I flipped through the phone book until I found the number. It took me three attempts before I successfully got all the numbers right and finally heard the ringing on the other end.
“’This is Dr. Grosman’s answering service. How may I help you? Avery business-like voice asked.
“’I’ve got to talk to the doctor! My son’s fallen down the stairs. Please, we need the doctor right now!’ The words tumbled over one another. ‘Ma’am, if you’ll hold on, I’ll connect you directly to the doctor.’
“’We can’t wait! Oh, please get the doctor!’
“There was a moment of silence on the other end of the connection, then I heard the doctor’s voice.
“’This is Dr. Grossman. Who am I talking to?’
“’Dr. Grossman, this is Ada Carpenter. Joey…Joey…’
“’Calm down, Mrs. Carpenter. Take a deep breath and then tell me what’s going on,’ he said, trying to make some sense out of what I was trying to say.
“I tried to do as he asked, but found myself shaking so hard I nearly dropped the receiver.
“’Joey fell down the stairs. He’s just laying there! He’s…, oh, I don’t know! I don’t know if he’s hurt or…’
“’I’ll be right there,’ he said as he hung. I was so panicked I wasn’t even aware he had hung up the phone until I heard the droning sound of the dial tone.
“Hope warred with dread in my heart as I ran back to be at my son’s side. When I reached the stairwell and could see my son, the level of shock I was experiencing elevated three fold. It was wrong! It was all wrong!
“Joey was still on his back, in what seemed to be the same position he had been when I had left him. Almost the same, yet not quite. Before he had been staring up at the ceiling, now he was looking directly at me.
“’Joey? Are you…’
“He wasn’t looking at me…he wasn’t looking at anything. Even from where I stood I could see the blankness in his eyes. And I could see that his head was turned in an unnatural way. He couldn’t have turned his head to such an angle—no one could.
“ ‘What have you done?’ I leveled accusing eyes at my husband. ‘WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?