So, may I suggest my book, GIRL Z: My Life as a Teenage Zombie?
What happens when you're 16 and turn part-zombie?
Some teen angst, adjusting, a gross new diet (ewww! and no, not "that!") ... all new things Becca has to cope with when her cousin comes home and shares his deadly secret - he's becoming a zombie. She's been infected via an accidental scratch and has to cope with all kinds of weird things.
She'll do everything she can to fight off the full Zs and keep her family safe.
Amazon - Print and Kindle - Amazon UK - Barnes & Noble
Inspiration:
I've long loved the old monster movies. so when I got a zombie book idea, I wanted to try something with a different twist. I wanted to write something with more than the usual theme of "just fighting zombies." I wanted to share it from one person, namely a teen girl's point-of-view. Yes there are zombies, but not everywhere, and sometimes she tries to act like life is normal, though it never will be for her. I had fun adding in weird humor and unusual touches.
Various Excerpts from GIRL Z: My Life as a Teenage Zombie:
Chapter 3: (Where Becca wakes up in the
hospital, unsure why or what happened.)
I turned and caught a glimpse of myself in the metal container on the table next to me. Familiar chocolate brown eyes stared back from under ebony bangs. Dark brows.
Spots.
My hands flew to my cheeks. Oh, my face! At first, I almost thought I had some kind of mask on, or someone had brushed on a layer of fireplace ash for makeup. The blotches stood out in contrast to the pink, peeling spots.
I banged the bed rail and screamed. This was much more than a made-up crisis like a bad hair day, or some quickly forgotten drama.
I was ugly.
I turned and caught a glimpse of myself in the metal container on the table next to me. Familiar chocolate brown eyes stared back from under ebony bangs. Dark brows.
Spots.
My hands flew to my cheeks. Oh, my face! At first, I almost thought I had some kind of mask on, or someone had brushed on a layer of fireplace ash for makeup. The blotches stood out in contrast to the pink, peeling spots.
I banged the bed rail and screamed. This was much more than a made-up crisis like a bad hair day, or some quickly forgotten drama.
I was ugly.
---------------------------
I gulped down the slimy chunks, fighting the gag reflex as I
continued to slurp and chew, the globs of fat encircling my mouth. I chewed,
burped and licked my lips, not caring about anything, or anyone, except the
here and now.
I had only one thing on my mind—stopping the raging,
blinding hunger.
-----------------------------
Sure I had the wandering eye problem and tripped over my own
feet, but so far, most of my problems were somewhat tolerable, considering
everything. Not so for most male Zs, I saw. Carm and I exchanged horrified
glances as we watched the rude, obnoxious way several of them acted, hoping it
was a rare occurrence. Hardly.
The main thing on most teenage Z's brains (the little they
had left, of course) these days was food, followed by sex, a horrific
combination.
The virus amplified the endless eating cycle teenage boys
usually had. Even with all the protein drinks, I watched several stagger down
the hall slobbering over packages of raw meat when they weren't slobbering over
girls. Ugh. I wanted to laugh, and would've, if it wasn't so revolting.
--------------------------------
I gunned the car and twisted the steering wheel, the thing
trying to hang on before it fell in a heap as we revved off. In the rearview
mirror, I watched it stumble and stagger around in a circle, acting like it
could catch us.
My calm broke in a torrent of curses when two more of them
lurched from the trees at the side of the road and waved at us like long-lost
demented friends.
-------------------------------------------
After our laughter,
the room quieted as we got acquainted, or in Carm’s case, reacquainted. She
soon was whispering with Jesse, leaving me to cope with Gabe.
He gave me a
conspiratorial glance. “Want to hear one of my jokes?”
My disinterest
didn’t stop him.
“Okay, here’s one
for you—what do you call a girl on a date who doesn’t want to eat?” he asked, a
smirk on his face.
I shrugged.
I shrugged.
“A zombie.” He
laughed. “C’mon, don’t tell me you don’t think that’s funny? Hey, I’m just
trying to lighten things up. I’ve got plenty more, want to hear?”
“Cute, but I don’t
think being like this,” I pointed to myself, “is funny. Not at all.”
He motioned at me
and leaned in to whisper. His minty breath hit the side of my face. “It is what
it is, you know? We have to make the best of it. I wouldn’t worry about it,
there’s nothing that’ll make you look bad. Nothin’ at all.” He winked. “Hey,
anything you need, I’ll be glad to help. Any way I can.”
Read more in GIRL Z: My Life as Teenage Zombie. (Print, Kindle and ebook)
* Bio: I've been writing for what seems like forever, but only delved into zombies recently and into horror progressively over the past few years. Award-winning journalist, author, dog lover and miniaturist. I collect and create, too. Learn more at my website.
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