Click here to buy this book!
Kindle Edition
Lulu
Category:
Horror
Publisher: Seasoned Aspirer
ISBN-10: B0052ACE02
Type: Fiction
Pages: 219
Copyright: 2008
Price: $3.99 (eBook)
This collection of short fiction by B.J. Myrick and Hazel Hart contains stories of women in conflict with mummies, vampires, giant spiders, and other dark adversaries.
An anthology of dark fiction where--
--A woman on the brink of madness plots evil revenge against local bully boys who kiiled her cats and finds, instead, the "Dark Side of the Rainbow."
--A woman inherits an Egyptian mummy with instructions for activating its powers and making her every wish come true. Then she learns the mummy has wishes of its own in "Kiss Mummy Goodnight." (This story is also available as a separate e-book.)
--A woman seeks eternal love and is buried alive by her lover in "The Seduction."
--A woman's search for her lost memory leads her down a dead-end road to a sinister old man who brings her face to face with her destiny in "Erasure."
--A woman attacked by a gigantic five-foot spider searches for answers to the strange changes in her body and uncovers covert government research gone wrong in "Lady in the Dark."
Excerpt
Surrounded by caskets, the widow smiled. There was something so satisfying and at the same time so stimulating about a rich dead husband with a solid will leaving everything to her. She ran her hand across the smooth oak rails and admired the polished gleam of the wood reflecting in the lamp-lighted room. She tested the cushioned satin lining.
Her hand trembled for a melancholy moment as she stroked the cool white fabric. She regretted the passing of George, her husband. She'd miss the small, insignificant man she’d shared a small part of her life with. In the beginning, it had been wonderful, new, exciting. But in the end, he had tired of her insatiable demands for attention.
She disliked waiting for anything and felt fortunate to have found a mortuary that was open around the clock. The advertisement had promised families twenty-four hour access to their loved ones before the funeral and an attendant on duty at all times.
"May I help you?"
Low and melodious though it was, the sudden voice in the tomblike silence caused her to turn her head quickly. "Ouch," she cried out. Her hand went to the sharp pain in her neck. She blinked back tears as she gazed across the room at the taller version of Tom Cruise, his beautiful eyes filled with alarm at her injured expression.
There was controlled power and coiled energy in his silent movements as he glided toward her. His deep, dark, eyes gazed at her through half-closed eyelids, a drowsy warmth in their depths. Dressed in a charcoal-gray sharkskin suit, the undertaker was most beautiful, both in features and physical build. His lithe body reminded her of a panther . . . sleek and powerful, and his high cheekbones gave his face the gaunt hungry look of a predator.
Mesmerized, she was unable to take her eyes off his, was unable to move. He halted only inches from her and reached out to stroke the side of her throat, lightly pressing his thumb on her wildly pulsing vein. Her hand slid off the back of her neck and hit against his as it fell to her side. Her mouth formed an "O", and she exhaled. Only then did she realize she had been holding her breath all the while he was crossing the room.
"Allow me to introduce myself," the undertaker said, removing his hand. "I'm Armando Shagan. And your name, dear lady?"
"Sydney Porter," she said over the wild beating of her heart. There was an aura about him that was different from most men—one she couldn't quite put her finger on. The thought of his touch, oddly soft and caressing, caused her skin to tingle.
For the first time she heard the soft haunting undertone of chamber music drifting through the room like a wisp of smoke. She gazed into his dark smoldering eyes, not understanding the sudden bleak loneliness overwhelming her. For a moment she panicked, longing to escape. The temporary mood passed as his finger boldly traced the length of her throbbing vein. Her blood, like the ebb and flow of the music, slipped into harmonious rhythm, first dipping, then soaring. He moved closer, and she felt her muscles tense with desire. An electrifying shudder swept through her.
He looked so young. She must be a decade or more his senior, not that she hadn't had younger lovers in the past. Still, this was hardly the moment to give in to her passions. Her husband had just passed on, and the least she could do before finding a new playmate was get her dearly departed buried.
--from "The Seduction" by Hazel Hart and B.J. Myrick
|