Dreadful Dissonance

New on my upper bar - my short story Dreadful Dissonance, which was published by Voluted Tales Magazine. I've included general info, a blurb, a buy link, and an excerpt. Enjoy!

New Story Accepted!

Coming soon - my short horror story "Infection" will appear in the "Teeming Terrors" anthology published by KnightWatch Press and edited by Christine Morgan. This book is about infestations and swarms and the like. My story is a creepy and icky thing based on my husband's recent stay in a hospital. It's also a bit on the unusual side. Keep an eye here for updates regarding publication and where you may buy the book.

NOW AVAILABLE: Zippered Flesh 2: More Tales Of Body Enhancements Gone Bad!

Now available in print form! Kindle edition coming soon. Zippered Flesh 2: More Tales Of Body Enhancements Gone Bad! My story "We're All Mad Here" appears in this anthology. It's my Crazy Cat Lady story. :) The book is edited by Weldon Burge for Smart Rhino Publications.

Here are all the authors. I'm in some very good company.

“The Modern Adonis” by Bryan Hall

“Taut” by Shaun Meeks

“The Hunger Artist” by Lisa Mannetti

“Skin Deep” by Carson Buckingham

“The Sun-Snake” by Christine Morgan

“Knowledge” by Kate Monroe

“Prosthetics” by Daniel I. Russell

“After Darque” by M.L. Roos

“The Affair of the Jade Dragon” by Rick Hudson

“The Future of Flesh” by J.M. Reinbold

“We’re All Mad Here” by E.A. Black

“Seeds” by L.L. Soares

“Perfection” by Doug Blakeslee

“Underneath” by Kealan Patrick Burke

“The Perfect Size” by A.P. Sessler

“Piper at the Gates of Dawn” by David Benton & W.D. Gagliani

“BabyDaddy” by Jonathan Templar

“The Little Things” by Christian A. Larsen

“Clockwork” by Shaun Jeffrey

“Luscious” by Jezzy Wolfe

“Rapture” by Charles Colyott

“Primal Tongue” by Michael Bailey

Pick up your copy of the book today!

The End Of The World - An Excuse To Party!

Let's have some fun. First point - that image above that has been circulating the web is not Mayan. It's the Aztec sun calendar. (No, not the Oreo cookie, you silly thing!) If you're going to go all doomsday on everyone, at least get your cultures right.

Zombie apocalypses are very popular these days. I'm not sure why. Maybe because the worldwide economy is circling the drain people feel as if they're in survival mode. I'm really not a big one on zombies, although I have my favorite zombie movies like Zombieland, Fido, Shaun Of The Dead, and especially Braindead (Dead-Alive). When I first met my husband, I told him if he couldn't sit through Dead-Alive, we weren't meant to be together. He loved it! We watch it every year on our anniversary.

Most zombie stories are told from the point of view of the survivors. I wanted to try something a little different. My story Trailer Trash Zombies, which will appear in the anthology Midnight Movie Creature Feature 2 in 2013, is from the point of view of one of the zombies. Granted, he's not your ordinary, shuffling, drooling zombie. He's quite articulate and intelligent. Want to meet him? Here's an excerpt from my story:

I changed six months ago after hooking up with a really hot, tiny little Japanese zombie at an underground zombie bondage rave in Salem. Zombies I had met weren't stupid, numb louts that stumbled around deserted streets moaning to no one in particular and eating any flesh they could get hold of. Most of us were as intelligent as we were when we were alive, although our bodies were a bit worse for wear. We don't drool and moan or squeal for braaains, unless we were making a snot-nosed joke. I'd say the zombie outbreak in Massachusetts started just as summer heat was at its hottest, and the new comet Hawley-Schmidt was discovered streaking across the night sky. I guess we technically weren't zombies although everyone called us zombies for lack of a better word. We were more the walking dead left over from an extra-terrestrial viral outbreak of some sort but we roamed the streets day and night. We talked and fucked and some of us went to work every morning. We even voted. We were just… different.

Once word got out that the dead walked around Salem and Cambridge the hipsters wanted in on the new craze. Lots of humans went to zombie raves when they were lucky enough to find them, which was hard because zombies were so "don't ask, don't tell". They remained as hidden as they could, especially when news got out that another gang of rednecks cornered one and beat it until it was nearly more dead than it already was.

Zombies had a presence in Salem but the witches ran everything and they didn't care for the undead encroaching on their territory so the zombies kept a low profile. That Japanese zombie took a hefty chunk out of my shoulder when we were getting it on in a back room and the damned thing never did heal because my flesh is no longer amongst the living.  Corey and Mike were the only two people in Norwich who knew about my condition, and I thanked them frequently for keeping my secret. The last thing I needed were local vigilantes raiding my apartment and tossing my sorry ass out on the street, after burning everything I owned because they were afraid by merely standing within a few feet of a zombie they'd "catch" it.

I got the idea for this story from the craziness I've seen in the apartment complex where I live. We're looking for new digs. I live in a small, New England town with typical small town goofiness. Just last week, the police stopped by to help a guy get a squirrel out of his apartment. That's not to mention our former upstairs neighbors who had knock-down, drag-out fights all hours of the day and night. The police had been trying to catch him screwing up for months but they had nothing on him. Rumor was he was a meth dealer and she was a hooker. Great. I want out of here so badly I can taste it. If the end of the world was coming, this apartment complex is the first place that would show signs. 

The Mayan apocalypse is big news to everyone - except the Mayans. Yes, they still exist. They only laugh at us silly white people over our latest end-of-the-world prediction. The last one was the Rapture. I and lots of like-minded people held a Post-Rapture Looting Party the day after the Rapture was supposed to have happened. Before that, there was 6-6-6: June 6, 2006. The Mark Of The Beast made the calendar. Guess what happened that day? 

Nothing.

As far as I'm concerned, these apocalyptic warnings are just an excuse to party. Like I already said, in the summer of 2011, I and plenty of like-minded folk held a Post-Rapture Looting Party. Mine was on my wall on Facebook, and it was a huge success. This year, I'm holding a Post-Mayan Apocalypse Looting Party tomorrow, December 22, 2012 from noon EST until I drop. Head to my wall on Facebook and let's have a blast! Hang out, chat about Christmas, discuss the New Year's Resolutions you have no intention of keeping, talk about books, goof off, and have fun! BYOB. Here's my Facebook page. Everyone here is invited to my party.

Elizabeth Black - Facebook

I hope to see you there. Let's make the Mayan apocalypse a day no one will ever forget! Just don't tell the Mayans. They'll laugh at us even more. Considering the state of the world now, maybe it's best it all ends today. There is a world-wide financial crisis. Global warming. Honey Boo Boo. Sometimes it's just best to let things go. But if the world doesn't end today, don't forget my party tomorrow!

Zombies - Social Commentary From The Undead

Welcome Zombie Blog Hoppers! Just click on the image above to see the other blogs participating in this blog hop.

Zombies are more than slowly shuffling dead things. I get bored with the usual slow-moving critters that eat braaaaains! Here are a few unusual zombies that have interested me over the years:

Tombs Of The Blind Dead - Knights of the Templar zombies on horseback. Zombies don't get much more awesome than that.

Fido - Zombies as pets, friends, and servants. This one is a real testament to how poorly human beings treat each other. Beneath the cheery suburban smile is some seriously fucked up shit.

28 Days Later (and 28 Weeks Later) - fast-moving zombies. Plus it's a virus - the rage virus.

Then there are the twisted zombie movies (including the comedies):

Shaun Of The Dead - Sade got some free publicity with this one.

Zombieland - You will never look at Twinkies the same way ever again.

Deadgirl - Sick and twisted with necrophilia thrown in.

The comic and TV show "The Walking Dead" remain popular despite a lackluster second season. And why won't Carl stay in the house?

And this brings me to Braindead (aka Dead/Alive), my favorite zombie movie. When I first met my current husband, I told him if he couldn't sit through this movie, we were not meant to be together. Not only did he sit through it, he loved it! We watch it every year on our anniversary.

There are plenty of others I'm leaving out, but those are my favorites. Zombies are all the rage right now (pardon the pun). Why? They stand in for subjects we'd rather not talk about. Discrimination. The end of the world. The breakdown of the family. Class warfare. Foreseeing the sad end of Hostess. Where will we get our Twinkies now? That was a sign of the upcoming Mayan apocalypse if there ever was one. The zombies themselves aren't usually the focus of the story. The focus is the reaction of the survivors.

The movie American Zombie attracted my attention because it makes similar social commentary that I make in my short story Trailer Trash Zombies. The movie is a mockumentary studying various functioning types of zombies. It treats zombies as if they are a misunderstood and feared segment of the population that deserve political representation, social services, respect, and much more. My short story Trailer Trash Zombies takes a similar point of view. This story is due to appear in the Midnight Movie Creature Feature 2 anthology in 2013. It's about highly-functioning zombies and their experiences. Here's an excerpt to whet your appetite.

I changed six months ago after hooking up with a really hot, tiny little Japanese zombie at an underground zombie bondage rave in Salem. Zombies I had met weren't stupid, numb louts that stumbled around deserted streets moaning to no one in particular and eating any flesh they could get hold of. Most of us were as intelligent as we were when we were alive, although our bodies were a bit worse for wear. We don't drool and moan or squeal for braaains, unless we were making a snot-nosed joke. I'd say the zombie outbreak in Massachusetts started just as summer heat was at its hottest, and the new comet Hawley-Schmidt was discovered streaking across the night sky. I guess we technically weren't zombies although everyone called us zombies for lack of a better word. We were more the walking dead left over from an extra-terrestrial viral outbreak of some sort but we roamed the streets day and night. We talked and fucked and some of us went to work every morning. We even voted. We were just… different.

Once word got out that the dead walked around Salem and Cambridge the hipsters wanted in on the new craze. Lots of humans went to zombie raves when they were lucky enough to find them, which was hard because zombies were so "don't ask, don't tell". They remained as hidden as they could, especially when news got out that another gang of rednecks cornered one and beat it until it was nearly more dead than it already was.

Zombies had a presence in Salem but the witches ran everything and they didn't care for the undead encroaching on their territory so the zombies kept a low profile. That Japanese zombie took a hefty chunk out of my shoulder when we were getting it on in a back room and the damned thing never did heal because my flesh is no longer amongst the living.  Corey and Mike were the only two people in Norwich who knew about my condition, and I thanked them frequently for keeping my secret. The last thing I needed were local vigilantes raiding my apartment and tossing my sorry ass out on the street, after burning everything I owned because they were afraid by merely standing within a few feet of a zombie they'd "catch" it.

The world in general is in the midst of upheaval right now. There are violent protests in the Middle East. There is a world-wide recession. The U. S. is on the verge of civil war. "Dirty Jobs" has been cancelled, and Honey Boo Boo is a celebrity. The Mayan apocalypse is upon us, and some people are actually taking that tripe seriously. I wonder if there are scam artists organizations that for a fee will help you prepare your finances and such for the end of the world so that you may leave something for those who are left behind the way there were for the Rapture that never happened? Zombies are a catalyst for addressing our darkest fears by projecting them onto the living dead. In that sense, they serve a useful function. Think of it this way - zombies perform a useful public service. Through them, we confront our worst fears, and maybe we can find a good way to deal with them.

What's A Nice Girl Like You Doing Reading And Watching Stuff Like This?

I have loved horror since I was a child. I grew up watching Creature Feature and Ghost Host. Those movies scared the hell out of me when I was a kid. Some are horror classics and others were fun schlock. I sat up at midnight, nose inches from the TV screen, junk food in hand, watching classics like "The Reptile", "The Wasp Woman", "The Legend Of Hell House", "The Haunting", "Curse Of The Demon", "The Incredible Two-Headed Transplant", "Horror Of Dracula", and "Quatermas and the Pit". I was a sucker for Hammer Films. I fell in love with Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee. Then, when the movies were over and the TV stations went dead for the night at about 2 am - yes, this was during the Jurassic era when TV stations didn't run 24/7 - I'd turn off the lights and in a total movie-induced panic run from the basement to my second floor bedroom, hoping 1) the monsters didn't get me (bad) or 2) I didn't wake my parents (worse). Then I'd sleep with the covers pulled over my head until the sun came up.

By the time I graduated from college I discovered Dario Argento and Mario Bava. I noticed lots of guys liked movies like "Suspiria" (my favorite Argento movie which is - horrors! - being remade), and people would ask me: "What's a nice girl like you doing watching stuff like this?" As if women couldn't like good, gory horror. What was I supposed to like? Fluffy romances populated by man candy, rainbows and unicorns? Ew! Give me "2,000 Maniacs" over a romance any day. And I can say that because I write erotic romances as well as horror.

I like horror because I like being in control of my fear. With a horror movie, if I get too scared (not likely) or grossed out (could happen), I can turn it off. If I'm reading a horror novel that gets to be too much for me, I can slip in the bookmark and put it away. In real life, you can't stop the horrors at your leisure.

I couldn't stop my ex-husband from abusing me although I wanted it to stop very badly.

I couldn't stop my divorce for eleven years although I wanted it to end.

I did manage to stop one rape but only because the situation worked out in my favor. I had no control over the outcome. I just got lucky.

I couldn't stop the war that killed my friend's brother.

I couldn't stop my favorite cousin from abusing drugs and dying from AIDS.

I couldn't stop my parent's divorce.

I couldn't stop my parent's remarriage (Don't ask. Long story.)

I couldn't stop my parent's second divorce. (Ditto.)

I couldn't control the car accident that killed a friend of mine when I was in grade school.

I couldn't stop a classmate's suicide.

I couldn't stop grade school bullying especially when I was the target.

I couldn't stop child abuse, family court corruption, or domestic violence when I worked as an activist and writer on those issues.

Real life is scarier than horror movies because I have little control over quite a bit of it. Horror movies and books give me an illusion of both control and sometimes things working out for the protagonists in the end. It's true that horror often ends on a down note - heroes die, villains win, problems aren't resolved or are resolved but not in a satisfying manner. Still, once the movie ends and the world is overrun by demons, I can turn it off knowing such a thing hasn't and likely won't happen. I can put the book on the shelf and move on to another one. I can explore my own fears safely in my own home or in a movie theatre surrounded by friends who clutch at each other during the worst scenes.

All of that is what I love about horror. Plus I just like being piss-your-pants scared. Watching a good horror movie or reading a good horror novel is like being on a roller coaster. The ride is terrifying but deep down you know you're safe so you can enjoy exploring your fears. And as a result you can overcome them.

Here is information about my horror short stories, in particular "The Oily", which appeared in the November, 2011 issue of "Stupefying Stories" magazine.

Horror stories coming soon:

Trailer Trash Zombies - May December Publications

We're All Mad Here - Zippered Flesh 2

Previously released horror stories:

Shattering The Meat Tunnel - Mirages: Tales From Authors Of The Macabre(Black Curtain Press)

Alicia - Mocha Memoirs Press

THE OILY

Buy Links:

http://tinyurl.com/stupefying-stories-nov-2011

http://tinyurl.com/stupefying-stories-nov-2012-UK

BLURB FOR STUPEFYING STORIES, NOVEMBER 2011 ISSUE:

The second volume in award-winning writer Bruce Bethke's new e-book only original anthology series gets bigger and better, with nine all-new tales of the fantastic, frightening, and funny by Aaron Bradford Starr, Clare L. Deming, Anatoly Bellilovsky, Sarah Frost, Rebecca Roland, Henry Vogel, and many more.

REVIEWS PRAISING "THE OILY":

From Amazon:

"The Oily by E. A. Black - Lara and Nate return to their childhood home where they confront haunted memories and secrets of Winwood House and the neighboring swamp. I don't usually like ghost stories, but this was one of my favorite selections in the book." - Clare L. Deming

"The Oily by E.A. Black and The King of Ash & Bones by Rebecca Roland had me entranced by their vivid descriptions to go along with their well-told stories." - Jay

EXCERPT FROM "THE OILY":

Storm clouds roiled in the distance, casting shadows on Strangeman’s Swamp. Wind blew strong and hard, tossing the tree branches that danced a frenzied tango. Gnarled branch arms reached into the afternoon sky, grasping at ravens that steered clear in fear. As the sun hid behind cloud skirts, shadows lurked in the underbrush, off in The Oily. Lara raised the window to let out the stale air and a gush of marsh wind blew into the room, rustling the dirty curtains. Dust billowed around her, making her sneeze.

She leaned against the windowsill and stared out into the dank afternoon, watching Strangeman's Swamp, as if demons lurked in the bramble far below.

No demons lived in Strangeman’s Swamp, though. No ghosts, either. Only creatures born of rock and wood, sticker bushes, vines choking the life out of trees, mud, water and wild flowering shrubs. Nothing human lived in Strangeman’s Swamp, or The Oily. Whatever lurked there felt nothing for humanity, and only wanted to end mankind’s encroachment in its territory.

Lights flashed in the distance. What were cars doing on the road so close to the swamp? Especially during a thunderstorm?

Then she remembered that no road ran along the swamp’s edge.

Lights blinked on and off like fireflies, but she'd never seen fireflies on Caleb’s Woe. She watched the glowing pinpricks and wondered what they were. Will o’ the wisp? Saint Elmo’s fire? Swamp gas? Phosphorescence?

Corpse candles?

They migrated from the edges of the swamp to meet in the center, circling each other like ravens fighting over a carcass. They danced and twirled, some only inches above the muddy waters and others high in the trees. They met in the center of the swamp. Once they reached The Oily they stopped moving.

Then they began to creep towards the house.

Lara stood riveted to the window, unable to move. Dread coiled at the base of her spine, whispering to her in a voice harsh with terror. She could only watch the spectacle taking place below, wondering what intelligence moved those lights in en mass like a swarm of angry bees.

The lights floated on the breeze until they disappeared beneath the covered porch. Lara waited until the glow from below crept up the screen. Heart thumping and mouth dry with fear, she froze to her spot, unable to lower the window despite her desperate urge to slam it down. Knowing something horrible was about to happen, eyes wide and unblinking, she stared out the window at the growing glow, waiting. Fetid air hung around her, smelling of low tide and dead fish. The stink clung to her skin, was absorbed into her pores. In disgust, she scratched her arms to scrape it off, but its grip only tightened.

The wizened hand that crept up the screen shriveled in a dirty, tattered sleeve. Fingers crawled along the screen like a gnarled pale spider, seeking entrance. Mesmerized, Lara could only watch as the hand felt along the edges of the window, long ragged nails picking at the wood to break through.

Below the arm was a small body, capped with a head full of matted brown hair. Mud clung to the tresses and caked on the shoulders. The body of the boy gripped the side of the house, clinging like a spider on a wall. Spiders terrified Lara. Those hairy limbs and those eyes…