Yes, it is at last that time as promised. The End of the World, Zombie-Apocalypse, Lava-Armageddon, Alien-Abduction, Give Away of Epic Preportions. Digital books will go to some lucky readers. Just comment on today's post and this coming Wednesdays too. (Don't forget to leave your email, please. Ouija board is far less useful than you'd think.) Specifically, these new-release books are up for grabs by Erica Hayes and Kylie Scott.
Yay! It’s release day for FLESH!! So of course I’m totally excited and a little giddy with it. But before I pimp my baby, we must be educational. Because learning is what we here at Romance Writers of the Apocalypse are all about. Teaching YOU how to deal with the oncoming downfall of everything you’ve ever known is what we’re all over here at RWoftheA HQ. You could say it’s our divine mission. You’d be being a bit silly, but that’s okay, we’re also all over getting your kicks while you can because the end of the world is coming. Everyone’s entitled to some frivolity before that happens. And maybe after. But ‘shhh!’ about the 'after'. People give you weird looks if you seem too enthused about the destruction of civilisation. I don't know why, they just do.
So, back to the educational post. Okay, now gather in...that’s it. A bit more...yes. Hey, you with the hand! Too close! Back-up! Geez, some people. Okay, here we go. My very own personal ‘In Case of Disaster List’. You’re welcome.
1. What to wear?!
It’s a bit like if the Doctor turned up in your garden at the two in the morning really, isn’t it? You’ve got to have a plan or you’re going to spend half a season traipsing around the galaxy in your fluffy slippers. Not cool. So leave your selected outfit by the foot of the bed, just in case. No one wants to be hunting zombies in their Hello Kitty jim-jams and Ugg boots. For me, it’s jeans all the way. I imagine I’ll look a bit like the girl in this photo except I won’t be lounging on a bed, I’ll be busy killing the hungry hoard. Plus, I’ll have boots and a t-shirt on. I’m thinking my ‘Warning: Ninja Expert’ shirt would be best but that’s subject to change without notice. Also, I don’t have long dark hair and look vaguely like I could do with a donut or six. But still, you get the idea. Jeans it is.
2. Wheels, baby...
The problem is gonna be petrol. That and I don’t actually know how to hot wire a car or do anything behind basic maintenance like clean the windscreen. So set yourself up now with a syphon hose (remember when you got all enthused about having a fish tank and then all the fish inexplicably died and you shelved the couple of hundreds worth of gear you’d invested in? Yeah. Look amongst that stuff. There might be one.) for sucking petrol out of people’s tanks. Ideally, I’d like the Hummer in the picture. If it should happen to have a bag of weapons sitting in the backseat like in Zombieland then I’d be very pleased indeed.
If you’ve given the melt-down situation some thought you know that heading for the nearest gun shop is going to be a one trip to crazy death and destruction. Everyone’s going to be stocking up. We’ve gotta be smarter than that. So think. Know any local loons with a penchant for conspiracy theories? (Besides your lovely selves, of course. And you’re not a loon if you know it’s really and truly going to happen someday soon. You’re not, so there.) Those are the people you want to somehow wrangle a friendly Sunday afternoon BBQ invite out of. If you have to turn up un-announced with prime beef fillets and a green salad then so be it. While you’re there, find their gun cabinet and mark it well. That’s where you’ll be headed, hoss. P.S. Might be worth taking more of the prime beef after the apocalypse just in case. And smoke bombs and a net. Don’t ask, just do it.
So, there’s a starter list for you. Just a few helpful hints to get you on your way. To show your appreciation, do feel free to purchase a copy of my M/F/M Post-Zombie-Apocalypse Erotic Romance book FLESH. Here’s a chunk to whet your appetite...
53 Days Post Apocalypse
Daniel looked down the barrel of the shotgun all set to blow his brains out and grinned. These days even a gun-toting, trigger-happy female was a delight to behold, and she was perfect.
Sunlight streamed in through the kitchen window. She all but shone with it, like an angel or a princess or something. Something a little overdue for a bath and a lot on edge, but something very good just the same. The feeling of sweet relief rushing through him nearly buckled his knees.
Tall and curvy, around thirty at a guess, and uninfected, she was by far the best thing he had ever seen in jeans and a t-shirt. Not even the dried blood splattered on the wall behind her could diminish the picture she made.
Sadly, his girl did not appear to share his joy.
Wary gray eyes devoid of even a hint of elation watched him down the barrel of the gun. He refused to be discouraged; his smile did not waiver. “Hey.”
“Gun on the floor. Slow.” Her voice sounded dusty with disuse. “Eject the
“Okay.” Daniel did as told, keeping his happy face on her the whole time, hunching a little when he stood back up. He gave the old rucksack at his feet a nudge with the toe of his sneaker. It currently contained the sum total of his worldly goods, but she was welcome to it. “There are just a few cans of soup, and Irish stew. Help yourself.”
Plush pink lips parted as though she might speak but then paused, as if she thought better of it. The grimy finger squeezing the trigger shook some. It was good to know she wasn’t completely okay with blowing his brains out right here and now. That was nice. Of course if her nerves got any worse, they might be in trouble just the same.
He softly cleared his throat, trying not to startle her. “You’ve, ahh, got the safety on. You see there?”
Daniel nodded to the dangerous firearm pointed his way and waited for the confusion to cross her pretty face, for the golden moment of distraction to appear. It didn’t happen. Her lips puckered but not for kissing. The withering glare confirmed it.
God bless her. She wasn’t falling for any of his bullshit. Which made it time for Plan C. Plan A would have had her falling into his arms, demanding immediate sexual gratification. He wished. And B was for the Bullshit, which had not gone down, thus leaving only C for Clusterfuck.
Then, everything happened at once.
Okay, so as above you can go into the draw to win a digital copy of Flesh or Revelation by commenting on today's and this Wednesday's post. Today's question is, what's your Apocalypse Starter List? Go on, hit me with it. And remember to leave us your email, please!