Mountain Mysteries: A Collection of Short Stories

Mountain Mysteries: A Collection of Short Stories

by James W Dean

ISBN: 9781478769170

Publisher Outskirts Press

Published in Literature & Fiction/Mythology & Folk Tales, Literature & Fiction/Short Stories, Literature & Fiction/Contemporary, Mystery & Thrillers

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Book Description

A collection of 13-short stories gathered from the rough Appalachian Mountains. You will find, A Raven in the Attic, you will find The Witch on the Mountain, and The Phantom Mountain Lion. There are The Castlewood Lights, The Eagle on The Rock and Love that died by the river. Plus 7 more fascinating stories from the thick Mountains,

Sample Chapter

  The raven in the attic is a mysterious story that is about an old house and the man that built it. The house and the man are from a time that has gone by, a time that we cannot live in, but a time that can live within us. This old house is high up on the side of Beartown Mountain. the house sits on a large piece of land that the locals call Raven Roost. The mountain people say that before the Indians were made to move off their land, and made to walk the trail of tears, to a barren land in what is now Oklahoma. This area was a very large Indian village. It had many huts made from the hardwood of the Northern red oak tree and the dark brown mud from the mountain river. The village had a large medicine lodge made from deer skins, pulled tightley over heavy lodge poles. The Indians had painted the skins with dye made from the deep purple juice of the pokeberries and the bright orange from the clay of the mountainside. The brightley colored medicine lodge stood surrounded by a large burial ground.

  This band of the Cherokee Indians believed that the dark Ravens of the mountain carried within them the spirits of the Indians dead ancestors.

  Then Ravens were allowed to roost on the lodges and in the tall sycamore trees around the village unmolested. The noisy black Ravens grew strong and fat from the scraps of food that they picked up from around the village. However, when any one of the revered medicine men died, the tribal chief would kill the largest Raven in the flock, and he buried it in the grave with the medicine man. These Indians believed that the spirit of the medicien man would be brought back to earth on the wings of the Raven, to live in the medicien lodge.

  The imposing white stucture with its three large stone chimneys was built sometime before the Civil War. It just happened to be constructed on the very spot where the medicien lodge had stood for at least a century. At the time that my grandfather was living, this eerie old mansion was still standing although it was deteriorating. The large chokeberry bushes along with the black huckleberry and the great rhododendron had long ago clamed the beautiful filds that surrounded the mansion. The tall black walnut trees had taken the spot where the massive front porch once stood. The dreadful sight of the many, dark green, climbing bittersweet vines. That were crawling out of the once gleaming, but now broken glass of the windows and doors made the house look almost alive, as the low wind rustled through the green leaves.

  It is said that the large three-story, majestic home with the floor to ceiling windows. With its square twenty-four-foot tall white columns, which greeted the distinguished visitors that once came and went so often, was built by a very rich salt merchant. The gentleman's name was James Robert Quartmaine; his family had made a very large fortune when they bought some land over in Smyth County Virgihia near the town of saltville. Salt being the only available means of preserving meat in those days, the salt from this area was a very valuable commodity.

  The brilliant streaks of light from the bright sunshine that was coming into the attic through the half open slats of the old attic vents, landed on the dusty old floor like the bright glimmering of ice on a frozen pond.

  He slowley folded his gray Confederate uniform with the bright shiny brass buttons facing upwards, showing the insignia of the state of Virginia. James placed the uniform in the trunk on top of that of his grandfathers. He stopped for a minute and thought, there is something very poetic about the bloodstains on the pant leg of his uniform, lying next to the bloodstains on the top coat of his grandfather's uniform.


Excerpted from "Mountain Mysteries: A Collection of Short Stories" by James W Dean. Copyright © 2016 by James W Dean. Excerpted by permission. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher. Excerpts are provided solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
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Author Profile

James W Dean

James W Dean

James Dean is the author of the new book, Mountain Mysteries. He was born in the Appalachian Mountains, raised around Richmond Va. and now lives in Lucama N.C. with his wife Brenda. He has three daughters, Jennifer, Sheila, and Kimberly, he is very blessed that they all live close by. His love for the Mountains inspired this book of short stories that come from the folklore of the mysterious Mountains.

View full Profile of James W Dean

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