Blurb: "...Sometimes, the ones you least suspect are the ones
that should worry you the most...."
People aren't always what they seem, as Red has experienced all too well. Strangers are feared, towns are avoided, and everyone’s intentions are scrutinized... even those closest to her. Her coveted ability has been revealed to far too many people, and now that a tiny heartbeat thumps and grows beneath her own, the risk has never been greater.
As the group of ten searches for a safe haven, a place to finally call home, the sobering reality of it all finally settles over them: nowhere is safe, nothing is permanent, and death is everywhere. One by one, Red’s reluctant posse grows smaller, as death claims some, and circumstance claims others.
It couldn't be a worse time to bring a newborn into the world... but the baby is coming.
People aren't always what they seem, as Red has experienced all too well. Strangers are feared, towns are avoided, and everyone’s intentions are scrutinized... even those closest to her. Her coveted ability has been revealed to far too many people, and now that a tiny heartbeat thumps and grows beneath her own, the risk has never been greater.
As the group of ten searches for a safe haven, a place to finally call home, the sobering reality of it all finally settles over them: nowhere is safe, nothing is permanent, and death is everywhere. One by one, Red’s reluctant posse grows smaller, as death claims some, and circumstance claims others.
It couldn't be a worse time to bring a newborn into the world... but the baby is coming.
EXCERPT:
In the midst of fighting the undead,
the newborn’s pitiful cries made Trace pause. He stood on the roof with his
finger on the trigger and listened, balancing himself as best he could to keep
from tumbling over the side.
“Congratulations.” Davis didn’t
smile. They didn’t exchange slaps on the back or handshakes.
Trace didn’t acknowledge him, but
pointed his rifle down at the zombies clamoring at the train and blasted several
of them in the head.
Kitchi released arrow after arrow at
the walkers shambling toward them from the distance, while Trace and Davis took
down the ones right below them
The steel construction of the train
provided safety from the mangled jaws and scratching hands, but unless they
could end this madness soon, it wouldn’t matter. Bullets were running low.
Kitchi stood and shook his head. “I
have no more arrows.”
All three of them stared at one
another as the chaos continued. They were in an impossible situation. The odds
of surviving grew smaller and smaller with each breath, each heartbeat.
“I don’t think we have a choice.”
Davis pointed to his pack, which sat at Trace’s feet. “Hand it over.”
He knew what
Davis was suggesting and didn’t much like it. One mishap, one stupid mistake,
and it could all go wrong. He’d seen firsthand just how wrong it could go.
“You know I’m
right.” Davis kept his eyes on him, and his hand outstretched.
“It’s
dangerous.”
“And this isn’t?
Come on, Trace. How long do you think we’ll last trapped on a train like this?
A week? Two? Maybe a couple of us will live for three, but we’ll be forced to
watch everyone else starve to death. This is dangerous, right now!”
He glanced at the
undead still coming toward them and the dozen or so that surrounded the train.
All the while, the baby continued to cry.
Trace bent over,
grabbed the pack, and handed it to Davis. “We don’t even know what’s out there.
It’s too dark to tell.”
Davis smiled.
“Then I guess it’s time to find out.”
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/364405
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BIO:
I hear voices. Tiny fictional people sit on my shoulders and whisper their stories in my ear. Instead of medicating myself, I decided to pick up a pen, write down everything those voices tell me, and turn it into a book. I’m not crazy. I’m an author. For the most part, I write contemporary Young Adult novels. However, through a writing exercise that spiraled out of control, I found myself writing about zombies terrorizing the Wild Wild West—and loving it. My zombies don’t sparkle, and they definitely don’t cuddle. At least, I wouldn’t suggest it.
I live on the benches of the beautiful Wasatch Mountains with two lovely children, one teenager, and a very patient husband. I graduated from Utah State University with a B.A. degree in English, not because of my love for the written word, but because it was the only major that didn’t require math. I can’t spell, and grammar is my arch nemesis. But they gave me the degree, and there are no take backs.
As a child, I never sucked on a pacifier; I chewed on a pencil. I’ve been writing that long. It has only been the past few years that I’ve pursued it professionally, forged relationships with other like-minded individuals, and determined to make a career out of it.
You can subscribe and follow me on my website, where I blog obsessively about my writing process and post updates on my current works. I’m also on Twitter and Facebook, but be forewarned, I tweet and post more than a normal person.
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