Dark Mocha Bite: Alicia by E. A. Black

Our continuing celebration of all things horror, Mocha Memoirs Press spotlights our DARK MOCHA BITE series. These stories are dark morsels of delicious horror and horror romance. Just like decadent dark chocolate, some of these titles are bitter, but good for your heart!

Today's Dark Mocha Bite comes from bestselling horror author, E.A. Black. Although this is her first MMP release, Black is not a new and her horror story, ALICIA, is not for the faint of heart.

BLURB: When the love of his life, Alicia, calls him in the middle of the night to report she had been raped, Eric drops everything to come to her rescue. She takes him on an eerie ride through turbulent hours he can’t quite comprehend. Alicia may need his help, but her situation is not what it seems.

Find out today. Get a copy of ALICIA today...

Third One's a Trio of Dark Delights: Descent Into Madness

October's month long DARK MOCHA BITES celebration delivers the best we have in dark, delicious horror and dark paranormal romance. Our third offering of the week is anything but dull...it is quite bitter.

Taking us down into madness is our resident editor and author extraordinaire, Michael LaRocca. We've witnessed it talent for suspense and twists and turns in LAZARUS.

For October, Michael has given us something truly fresh and straight out of the Twilight Zone in DESCENT INTO MADNESS.

Blurb: Did you ever feel that your life was but a series of experiments being conducted upon you by forces unknown and unknowable? Does the nature of reality change almost daily, as if someone wanted to see how you’d react? Are there things you knew in your very core you’d never do, until you discovered you were wrong and you did them? Did you ever wish the dead would just stay dead?

Excerpt

Wouldn't life be simpler if the dead just stayed dead?

Bert gazed at Wendy's closed eyes. He held one of her tiny hands in his and noticed how cold it was. Behind him stood the doctor and the nurse who would disconnect the vast array of machinery that all but surrounded them.

"This isn't her," Bert said to no one. "This is only an empty shell."

Bert squeezed Wendy's hand. There was no response. He leaned over her and whispered, "I love you," into her ear. He rose to his feet, released her hand and stepped aside. There was no change, no sign that she was anything more than a rock or a piece of furniture.

The doctor was waiting patiently when Bert turned to him. Bert nodded. The doctor smiled weakly, sympathetically. Bert felt vaguely like an intruder.

The doctor signaled the nurse to switch off the respirator. The nurse complied and Wendy's chest collapsed. The doctor reached for the tube that entered Wendy's nose and led to her lungs. He wiped it with a cloth as he pulled it out—pull, wipe, pull, wipe, pull, wipe—then handed it to the nurse.

The EKG and EEG alarms beeped loudly. Wendy's eyes opened and she bolted upright in the bed. The stunned doctor quickly stepped away.

"Bert?"

"Wendy?!"

"Bert!"

"My God!"

Of course it was a miracle. What else could it have been?

Get your copy of DESCENT INTO MADNESS from Mocha Memoirs Press today.

 

Telling Stories by Wynelda Deaver

I’m a fairly eclectic reader and writer, so some people wonder why I don’t do a whole lot of horror. In
my teen years, I started reading horror with Stephen King and tore through all of his books. But as for
writing horror… Well, I’ve only ever told one off the cuff horror story.
And scared myself to pieces.

We were camping, Mom and Dad in the RV, my best friend, Regina and I in a little pop up tent. Like any
good story teller, I used description from the things around us. A spooky house up on a hill. Brown hills
(in California, this happens more than you’d think) full of demon deer.

Demon deer?

Well, yes. While I can’t remember much of the story, I do remember to this day the demon deer herd
with eyes that glowed red in the night. Which you know, doesn’t sound quite so scary right now. Of
course, I have (cough, cough) many years between that trip and now. I’m also safe and sound in my
house. No hills. No spooky houses.

No demon deer.

But that night, oh that night. As a story teller, that little detail was a stroke of genius. As part of a teen
girl duo who could talk themselves into just about anything? Not so much. Every time a deer got caught
in the headlights, so to speak, we saw red. Sleeping in a tent? Great fun for shadows to prey on your
mind. Everything became fodder for the horror story we were living in our own minds. Squeals of “Did
you see that?” and “What the hell was that?” peppered the night air.

By the time we stumbled into the RV because we’d scared ourselves witless, the whole campground
gave a huge sigh of relief. We knew this because we were told by the other campers. All day long and
into the next night. “No more stories, girls, I need my beauty sleep.”

At least my parents didn’t laugh at us when we could hear them. It must have been hard to stifle the
giggles when we came crawling in, defeated by the night.

Since that night so many moons ago, I have stuck to writing what I do best: Dragons. They may eat you,
but at least you’ll see them coming.

Wynelda
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You can check out Wynelda's fantastic dragon stories, in December, with the release of her first Mocha Memoirs Press's story, DRAGON'S PATH.