The Silent Violent Few: Noir
The Silent Violent Few # 3
By- Grayer Vaughan
Genre- Romance, Fiction, 16+
"How will he still want me once he finds out what I've done?"
Alabama Crowne thought she had finally secured her freedom when the life she was destined to live came to a halt. Despite everything she left behind, there was one constant she would never be rid of as death claimed who she was in order to become who she was meant to be all along: Cash Zachary Calloway.
Leaving one life to create another didn't seem so bad until Finn Haines, the man she thought she knew, begins to become unhinged when secrets, lies and betrayal tempt them both into an epic end game of "name that Submissive".
Thinking she chose the right Calloway, Alabama takes a chance to build a life worth living as she is set to give birth to the next Calloway heir until facts about Finn's past lead her down a dangerous path filled with devious deviants of epic proportions.
Unsure of who the father of her unborn child is, Alabama begins to struggle with her sanity, keeping her pregnancy hidden while she soon realizes that the only way out of the mess she created might be to return to the life she left behind as visions of her dead best friend Frankie lead her down a dangerous path of becoming the one thing she never thought she would: Mrs. Calloway.
Will the darkness she created claim the life she must live to be free or will her static inspiration become the dominant Noir she will need to save her from the violent death Goddess has planned?
Enjoy this excerpt From Noir-
Closing my phone, I quickly reversed my car and headed towards Bowery Triton.
I had no idea what I was going to say to Cash when I revealed myself. How does one come back from the dead and say that they were just kidding about that whole ashes deal?
Nothing was going to save me from his wrath.
My only saving grace at this point was to come clean and tell the truth. If that old dog was going to serve me up the river like Calloway prime rib, then it was my job as a Calloway to show her how a Calloway survives amidst tragedy.
She had to know by now that Calloways never die. We adapt to our surroundings like a poisonous tree frog. One scent of our tasteless odor can intoxicate a cell block radius of 100 meters into thinking that we signed for their Soul in purgatory.
Meryl knew better than to overstep her bounds with me.
I was the brains behind this outfit. She seemed to forget who showed her how to become all a man would need. Driving towards Bowery, my mind began to reflect on scattered moments of yesteryear when we were just girls at Wellesley who knew no better.
It was the night of the Semi-formal “Under the Sea” dance. Senior was set to escort Meryl to the dance as a favor to me since he was visiting without our parent’s permission. Everything we had ever done in this life had to be asked a week prior to the event in written form, black ink only to our Father, Cash Zachary Calloway I.
Back in those days, Senior resembled Louisiana royalty. His piercing blue eyes sparkled like he was hiding the sun behind them, which is what caught Meryl’s attention in the first place. Just as all Calloway men, Senior was the brightest candle in any dark room. Standing 6’2”, my Brother could light up the room with his shy Calloway smirk. His strong chin was built to take a punch with such manly features shaved silky smooth by his private Barber. His dimples were what truly did Meryl in.
“Sissy, I don’t know how to do anything it would take to pull such a man. He is always so quiet when he’s here. He’s never really spoken more than two words to me. How can you be sure Cash will even pay any attention to me?” Meryl asks, trying to look up at me as I continuously moved her head back into place by her chin.
“Sister child- once I am done with you, the last thing you will have to worry about is keeping his attention. If it is one thing I know, it’s that my Brother knows betta than to cross me, darling. He does what I say or he gets hemmed up. No one crosses a Calloway woman. That’s how I know. He will act accordingly or I will nail his ass to the wall,” I reply, opening a bobby pin with my teeth.
Placing it in her hair as I continue to pin down her French twist, I smirk at her nervousness knowing she would never think to do my Brother wrong. Twisting her handkerchief in her hands, Meryl carefully gnawed on the corner of her bottom lip.
“You are nervous for no reason, Sugar. Cash is a very kind hearted man. He envies deep thinkers and poets of the Romantic Era. If you get into a corner, mention what we’ve been going over on Chaucer or anything you can remember on William Blake. It’s easy as pie. He’d be so smitten, you’d forget it was even me who suggested it,” I laugh, spraying her hair with Aqua-net. “Lord, Sugar. Definitely don’t stand next to an open flame or you’ll light up the dance like Cash was twirling a lit up life size candelabra.”
Narrowing her eyes at me as she scoffed, Meryl walks over to the standing mirror to check out her hair.
“Well, if this Wellesley thing doesn’t pan out, you definitely have a career as a Beautician. Thank you, Sis. With a hairdo like this, Cash will be putty in my hands,” Meryl boasts, winking at herself in the mirror.
Sarcastically laughing at her shot, I wondered if I wasn’t making my Brother settle for second best.
“Put something on before you get yourself in trouble,” I add, nodding towards her mint tinted frock. “Mother insists that any daughter of hers looks like a walking celebration in tribute to Abby Monroe.”
Helping Meryl place her dress over her freshly completed hairdo, I giggled as I watched her struggle to get through her petticoat.
“And- just- who is Abby Monroe?” she growls, panting when she finally gets her dress in place.
“It’s whom, not who and Abby Monroe. I’ve told you all about her when we went home for the annual 4th of July picnic. Mother’s en-”
“Mother’s enemy. Right!” Meryl snorts, slapping her lap like she was tickled pink over such details.
“No Calloway Southern woman in her right mind has an enemy, Merilynn Lancaster. Abby Monroe is her “ennemi de l’ami”,” I smirk, stepping into my cream Chantilly lace embellished frock.
Taking one look at my dress, Meryl’s face became frozen into a hard line. Her family wasn’t as high on the hog as ours was, so she always had the need for want in her veins.
“Oh, excuse me Miss fancy frock. Not everyone gets to study abroad in a French chateau to learn to speak hogwash,” she retorted back, cringing as her envy took over. “There are some hard working people on this side of the wire.”
Releasing a sympathetic look towards her, I knew it wasn’t really her being hateful.
Every girl at Wellesley wanted to be a Calloway.
What they didn’t know is how much sacrifice they’d have to live with to enjoy such comforts.
“This old thing? Please. At least your frock is new,” I wink, smoothing out my dress. “Turn around ya old goat. Let’s stop your breathing.”
“What?” Meryl sighed, looking back at me with a worried look. “What do you mean stop my breathing, Bea Bea?”
Rolling my eyes, I placed my hands on her shoulders and turned her back to face the mirror.
“You might want to zip up your gown if you intend to keep it covering your comforts. Here. You take my pink pearls for good luck,” I laughed, removing my pearls from my neck to place them on her.
“Bea. You’re my Soulmate. Did you know that?” she smiled, fighting back her tears as she ran her fingers over my pearls. “You’re my everything.”
The look she shot back at me as she glanced at her reflection in the mirror was one I’d never forget. That was the last time Merilynn Lancaster was the original sweet version of herself.
“God should be your everything, Meryl; but, I am glad to be held so high with you, Sugar,” I smiled sweetly at her, silently thanking God that my Brother was in good hands. “Come on, shortcake. Let’s go give those boys a night they’d never forget.”
Shaking my head at the idea that Meryl could ever be anything more than she appeared to be, I quickly pulled over to check my face in the rearview before I got too close to Bowery Triton.
Opening my plum hued lipstick, I carefully painted my lips into a fig inspired hell.
“Lawd. Look at us now, Sugar. If only we would have known what this tragic woman would become all those years ago,” I say, staring at the old face that confronts my actions in the mirror. “Should have just let Bachman bump her head with a rock and be done with the whole bit all together.”
Placing my lipstick back into my purse, I cracked my neck while straightening my collar. If I was going to be the patsy that took on the lion, I knew I’d better play the role to the last gnawing of the teeth.
“No betta times to die like the present, ma petite,” I cooed, putting my car into drive.
If Bachman knew what kind of danger I was putting myself into by showing up here, I would have been the next frog he bopped on the head for his trophy room.
Book 1-
Book 2-
About the Author-
Grayer Vaughan is the author of “The Vaughan Chronicles” series: Magnolia Like the Flower, Burning Blossom, Starshine; The Cathedral Saga: The Receiver, and The Silent Violent Few series: The Silent Violent Few, Risen, Noir.
Beginning at 11 years old, Vaughan began training in sport Karate as her parents wanted her to be able to defend herself against bullying in school. She began studying under the late 10th Dan Master Richard Dixon, learning Japanese Goju, which is Taekwondo, Kempo, and Kungfu combined. Over the next 7 years, she earned her blackbelt degree and fought all over the United States defending her regional, and divisional titles as well her right to fight for the State of Texas for her division. She received her first state title at 11 and her first world title at 14, fighting her way up to earn her titles. She is still undefeated and is now a retired World Champion. After making the decision to retire, she continued the family tradition in joining the Armed forces once they became of age. Upon discussing an opportunity to fight in the All-Army karate team, Vaughan decided to join the Army to follow in her father’s footsteps. serving 6 years in service, Vaughan returned home to Texas where she entered college to study as an artist. In an effort to keep a promise she made to her grandfather, Daniel, to write about her extraordinary life, she penned "The Vaughan Chronicles", basing the story off her life experiences.
“There is always an opportunity to continue to grow mentally, spiritually, and physically. They may have tried to push me back, but they will never succeed. I can always get better. Never give up.” ~Grayer Vaughan.
According to Grayer, she never intended to become an author. “It happened by answering a “what if” question, and a promise. I was blessed enough to be with my grandfather, Daniel in his last hour here on Earth. He asked what I would do in the next ten years as he wouldn’t be around to experience it with me. I said, “I have no idea, Grampy…I guess I will sell my art- have a show or write a book? I have no idea!” He replied, “you should do it. I believe in you. Promise me you will do whatever it takes to get it out there.”
With the promise made, he passed away a few seconds later. It took 6 months for Grayer to honor that promise, and with each book produced, she continues to keep her accord intact.
Social Media Links-
Twitter- http://www.twitter.com/grayervaughan
Author Facebook- http://www.facebook.com/vaughanlandseven
Series Facebook- http://www.facebook.com/thesilentviolentfew
Instagram- @Vaughanland
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