Tracy S. Morris

Quirky Mysteries, Screwball Fantasy and Sassy History

The Four Redheads of the Apocalypse: Sara Lee (Famine) Explains it All

Written By: Tracy - Jan• 17•12


February is coming up. The month of Lurrrve.  In honor of the holiday, I’m previewing the new book with a romantic (sorta) theme that will be released next year from several talented writers (and also very good friends) Julia Mandala, Linda Donahue, Rhonda Eudaly-Simpson and Dusty Rainbolt entitled The Four Redheads of the Apocolypse: Redheads in Love! This is the latest book in the Four Redheads of the Apocalypse Universe.

Here to talk a little bit about her role in the book is Famine herself, Sara Lee (as written by Julia Mandala).

 How did you four ladies become the Four Horsewomen of the Apocalypse?

We were married to the original Four Horsemen. Back in the day, Satan used to give high-ranking minions “vacation” on Earth as mortal beings. That meant they lacked their powers as Horsemen, but also were freed temporarily from the bad parts of the job. For example, outside of his domain, my dear husband Oscar (famine) couldn’t eat or drink anything. It just turned to dust. But on “vacation” he could eat and drink to his heart’s content. And usually did.

Our husbands went on an ice-fishing trip for their vacation, and I guess they had a little too much to drink. Okay, a lot too much. Then someone lit a fire in their ice-fishing shack.

It turns out that second death means Oblivion. Our husbands were just . . . gone. And their powers came to their wives. Us. Turns out that a fine-print clause in our marriage contracts saddled us with the Horseman jobs in the event of our husbands’ demise. Even Satan didn’t see that one coming. And now our lives are a living hell.

Sara Lee, what was your profession in life?

I was . . . I was . . . All right, I was a lawyer. There! I admit it! I’m never going to live that down, am I? I used to represent HMOs, which is why I always knew I was going to Hell. In truth, if lawyers looked at the fine print that came with their law degrees, they’d see that they’re all going to Hell. You’d think lawyers would always read the fine print, but they don’t. I really should have read that marriage contract.

Tell us a little about your minions.

I found two of them after their daring escape from the Lake of Fire. They must have taken a swim in the River Lethe, because they couldn’t remember their names. I call them Wreak and Havoc, which turned out to be appropriate. Those guys have mad skills. They’re true evil geniuses. They even “acquired” an electron microscope for me. When I asked how they got it, all they said was that it served the company right for not bolting it down and for having such a crappy security system.

Then there’s Tammy, who in life owned Tammy’s Tasty Tarts. She came to me from Hell’s Kitchen, so you can imagine what her cooking is like. She replaced my minion Little Debbie, who was putting bad things in her snack cakes that made me gain weight. When Satan saw how much the weight gain bothered me, she made it permanent. Bitch.

I hear you’ve been looking into some legal loopholes to get you ladies out of your contracts to be the Horsewomen. Any luck?

Even though the marriage contract is 666 pages of microscopic text, I’ve always thought it seemed a little incomplete, considering Satan’s lawyers wrote it. Then I noticed references to provisions that didn’t appear to exist. That’s why I sent Wreak and Havoc after an electron microscope. Turns out there’s a whole other layer of really fine print. I found a clause that may give us a way out of these sucky jobs. If we can find men acceptable to God and Satan, and get them to marry us, the Horsemen jobs will pass to them.

How did you meet Oscar Mayer, who was the Horseman Famine before you?

Oscar and I met in New York at an authentic Ethiopian Restaurant–the kind where the waiter waves your food under your nose, then gives it to the warlord at the next table. All it lacked was U.N. funding. Oscar was so thin, I thought he might have a wasting disease. I introduced myself and gave him my card. Even though he wasn’t sick and didn’t need my legal services, he invited me to sit down and not-eat with him. I love history (it was my college major), and Oscar had seen so much of it first-hand. Boy, are the history books full of B.S. History is definitely written by the winners.

What’s the worst thing your husbands ever brought home from work?

Gigi, his personal assistant. That bitch was supermodel thin, supermodel gorgeous, and dressed like a supermodel. I’m sure I don’t know how her high heel snapped and she fell and broke her neck. Nope, not a clue.

As the Four Horsewomen, you all answer ultimately to God. What’s He like?

God looks like a CEO of a Fortune 500 company, or maybe a senior partner at a big New York law firm. He definitely favors tough love. It’s kind of weird, because if you ask Bunny or Zoe, they give a completely different description of Him–and his management style.

God loaned you out to Satan until the Apocalypse. Why is that?

Same reason there’s Hell–to keep the riffraff out of Heaven. All that Apocalyptic stuff–war, famine, plague and death. It’s not exactly Heavenly. So, good or bad, we’re all stuck Down Here until the Apocalypse.

How is Satan as a boss?

She’s . . . great. Yeah. Understanding, reasonable–

Who am I kidding? She’s a moody, vindictive, manipulative bitch with a serious case of God-envy. She’s never appreciated any of the three or four times I’ve tried to do my job. Okay, so I suck at it. But a little encouragement that didn’t include a pitchfork in the posterior would be nice.


Redheads In Love should be out sometime in February (or shortly thereafter).  It will be available for pre-order from Yard Dog Press at ConDFW, as well as online or by phone.

Also, in February, keep an ear out for the YDP audio Roadshow, which will feature the Four Redheads themselves

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