As an Amazon Associate we earn from qualifying purchases.


by Robin Morris

Mama - Robin Morris
Editions:Paperback - First Edition: $ 12.95
Size: 6.00 x 9.00 in
Pages: 283
Kindle: $ 3.99

As the Conover family drives from L.A. to Chicago strange things begin to happen. Nine year old Michael sees a face form in the window of the family car. Two creepy children stare at fourteen year old Alison at a motel. A car follows the family for many miles, then hits their car and drives away.

Wherever the Conover family goes, wherever they look, they see a large woman and her children coming closer. The woman and her children are superhumanly strong. They can enter a locked room without opening the door.

Confused and scared, the Conovers can’t comprehend what is happening to them. Everywhere they turn they see the woman and her children. The woman is Mama, and as she teaches her children, like a lioness teaching her cubs to hunt, the Conovers realize that they are the prey.


An hour later Dad said, “Oh no.” The car slowed.

Michael sat up in his seat. Somewhere up ahead police lights flashed.

“Must be an accident,” Mom stated, just in case no one had figured it out yet.

Dad reduced speed until they jerked forward in a line of other cars. Alison had headphones on and ignored what was going on.

The inside of the car grew hot, without air blowing in. The air conditioner worked, but Dad worried about it heating up the engine too much. The Taurus overheated a lot. Dad said that when he was a kid they didn’t have air conditioning in cars, they used “490” cooling, which was opening all four windows and driving ninety miles an hour.

Michael was pretty sure cars had air conditioning in the 1980’s. Dad liked to exaggerate sometimes. Michael had his window rolled up about halfway, he didn't like the air in his face.


They got close to the accident. A minivan was off the road and lying on its side. Two Sheriff's cars and an ambulance sat on the right shoulder.

“Look,” Dad said. “There’s nothing actually blocking the road. Everyone’s just gawking.”

“Someone must have been hurt,” Mom said.

An RV was also lying in the sand.

Maybe someone died, Michael thought. Maybe they were beheaded. He wanted to look and see if there were any heads on the pavement, but he didn’t really want to see them if they were. Instead he watched in front. He saw the traffic clear up.

“You can go now,” Michael said.

“What?” Dad asked, still looking at the camper.

“We’re at the front.”

Dad looked straight ahead. “Oh. Yes.” The car speeded up.

“Who’s gawking now?” Mom asked and smiled.

“Not me,” Dad said.

The car cooled off as the air blew in again. Alison had her eyes closed, listening to her iPod.

Michael slept a little. Then he opened his eyes and stared out the window.

The glass of the window rippled, then deformed. Glass flowed forward in raised circles. The flat plane of the window became 3D, like a movie screen when you put the special glasses on. It formed itself into a child’s face, but it was still clear glass. The face smiled at Michael.

Michael screamed.


About the Author

Robin Morris dwells in the desert near Los Angeles, where she hides in a cave that is sometimes called a condo. Her two familiars demand petting and food daily.