Deborah Lacy’s short stories have appeared in Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine, Fault Lines, Shhhh…Murder! , Mystery Weekly Magazine, Murder Most International, and the Anthony Award Winning Anthology Blood on the Bayou She is the editor of the new short story anthology, The Most Dangerous Games, which includes stories from Heather Graham, JD Allen, Alan Orloff, K.C. Selby, P.M. Raymond, and others.
Do dangerous games scare her? Or is it some other sinister thing that brings terror into her heart? Like drinking a coke, perhaps??? Read on to find out…
What is your favorite urban legend?
The song “Love Rollercoaster” by the Ohio Players has a terrible scream in the middle. The urban legend surrounding the song says the cover model was murdered while the song was being recorded.
When I hear that song, even if I don’t hear the scream, I feel the scream inside of me. It sounds and feels like someone is in terrible pain. Different versions of the legend say different things. In one version, the cover model interrupted recording so the manger stabbed her, and the band keep playing. In another, she was burned from the boiling honey poured all over her during the album photo shoot, and it killed her. The one I heard most often was that she was covered in hot honey while lying on a table. The shoot took so long that the honey hardened. When she finally tried to get up, her skin was ripped off her body, killing her.
Never mind sound studios are soundproof by design. Never mind album cover photo shoots didn’t happen while songs are recorded. Never mind that model is still very much alive. The scream sounds real, and the stories were repeated and repeated.
“She was burned from the boiling honey poured all over her during the album photo shoot, and it killed her.”
Do you enjoy scaring other people?
I enjoy scaring other people with my writing, but not in person. If you pick up a short story or a book in a particular genre, you’ve agreed you’d like to be frightened. But in real life, there are enough real things to be frightened of, so I don’t try to scare people.
My 12-year-old next-door neighbor kid has a completely different philosophy.
What’s your favorite horror movie or television series?
Stranger Things. I’m excited about the upcoming last season—November 26, 2025. Here’s the teaser for season 5. Happy Thanksgiving.
What is your favorite monster/villain?
I’m going to pick two because it’s a tie between the Weeping Angels in Dr. Who and Cersei Lannister from Game of Thrones.
The Weeping Angels are monsters that look like marble statues that can only move or get close to you when you blink. But as soon as someone tells you, “Don’t Blink” it’s all you want to do. It’s nefarious because blinking is involuntary, but you can only save yourself if you can harness control. The whole concept is diabolical.
Cersei Lannister is another of my favorite villains. She’s truly evil, but as you get to know her family, and see what other people in power did to her, you realize how easy it was for her to become evil. Throw in some ambition, and the position of women in royalty, and you get the toxic cocktail that is Cersei.
What’s creepier: clowns, dolls, or wax figures?
Clowns. They are so creepy. I don’t understand why people think they’re fun. Wax figures run a close second, but they don’t move. The clowns move.
What’s the scariest place you’ve ever been?
To a gas station in a remote area South Africa. I had been on safari and the airport was three hours away. I took the recommendation of the safari leader for an airport taxi. He said this guy was his friend, and reliable.
I’d been told there would be others traveling with me, but that day I was alone.
We drove and drove through the African savanna. Miles and miles of nothing but dry grass and road. Occasionally we’d see a house. Then on the horizon there was a solo gas station.
We stopped.
The driver told me that I had to get out and purchase a Coke in the store next to the gas station. The “store” looked like a shed from a 1890s ghost town. There were no windows that I could see.
I told him I didn’t want a Coke. He told me to go buy one anyway and then just stared at me, waiting for me to get out.
I didn’t want to get out of the car. I didn’t want to go into that shed. I didn’t want to be in the middle of nowhere in a foreign country.
My phone said, “No service.”
Then he said it again, “Go get a Coke.”
So, I slid my passport into my jacket pocket. Grabbed my purse. And got out of the car. I held my breath waiting for him to take off without me.
I walked into the shed. The door squeaked. The floor was dirt. One man sat inside, behind a little table. He had a lamp next to him, but sunlight seeping between the boards in the roof turned out to be a stronger source of light.
He told me to shut the door, that I was letting flies inside. This was true. And the flies were bigger than I had ever seen before. But the flies didn’t scare me.
He asked me if I wanted a Coke. I hesitated and said, “Sure. How much?”
“No charge,” he said. He reached down and opened a cooler. He pulled out a can and pulled open the pop top. He handed it to me. Despite the cooler, the can was warm.
I took the can and held it. There was no way I was going to take even the smallest sip from than Coke. We looked at one another for what seemed like forever. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to see what was going on outside.
Then he looked at me and said, “You can go now.”
I got out of there and back to the car quickly. I put the can in the beverage holder in the back seat and didn’t touch it again.
We arrived at the airport thirty minutes before my international flight. I rushed through security and ran to my gate. I’ve never been so grateful to get on a flight.