Teaser: Eli Constant and B.V. Barr #SummerofZombie

Summer of Zombie 2015


Z Children 1 Cover eBook

It didn’t open! What the hell? I pushed harder and looked down to see if the door was locked. My eyes were greeted by a little red sign over the release lever. HOLD FOR 15 SECONDS UNTIL ALARM SOUNDS. Crap. That’s less than ideal. They’re going to hear that sucker a mile away and make a beeline for my ass. Holding my breath, I pushed and held the release in place.

The emergency alarm blared to life and a split-second later, the door clicked and swung open. Without hesitation, I bolted across the threshold and ran. My legs pumped back and forth, my sensible shoes slapping the pavement in a rushed rhythm.

A gunshot sounded to my left and I turned quickly, almost falling over my own feet and face-planting on the asphalt. John Croxton, one of the deputy sheriffs, was firing warning shots over a crowd of people moving toward him. Coming to a halt, I opened my mouth to yell, to warn him that the mob couldn’t be reasoned with. I saw the children in the crowd, they moved faster than the adults, moved toward John… closer, closer. John fired again. I couldn’t look away. Morbid fascination- a brutal car crash on the freeway.

The children were upon him now. I watched as his body disappeared beneath the swarm of ringlets and bloody, cherub cheeks. I listened as he fired a last desperate shot into the air. And then his gun was silenced, replaced by his screams… an infinitely more disturbing sound than a gun shot.

Something told me to move, something primitive, something ancient. My inner self prodded me to run- like a hot poker on my backside. I snapped into action. The emergency alarm was still screeching and the infected children were beginning to look my way. My feet started pounding against the pavement again. I counted the footfalls, trying to ignore the snarling and spitting in the distance behind me.

I was almost at my house. So close. Only one more street to cross.

Everything around me was in ruin. People were screaming; a man was beating a child with a garbage can; an elderly woman was lying on the ground, an old wooden cane her only defense against an attacker with blonde pigtails. Percy, the local handyman, was fending off a preteen with a hammer. But he couldn’t defend himself from all sides. I gasped as a boy bounded on all fours towards Percy from behind. I was close enough to hear the squelching, flesh-ripping sound as the man lost a chunk of his calf. I flinched as Percy fell forward, the hammer useless against such calculated viciousness.

It was too much. I couldn’t handle this. How could I survive on my own? When so many were dying… so much fear?

I pushed harder, sprinting as fast as I could, fully focused on getting to my house. Getting to a phone. Because I realized that I didn’t have to be alone. It was a stupid, stupid time to realize that I needed Chris. But I did. I needed Chris. Not just because the world had gone to shit, but because if the world went to shit, I’d want to be with Chris until the end. It was just that simple.

Right foot down. Left foot down. Right foot down. Left foot down.

I could do this; I could make it home, pack a bag, and take the Jag to Dallas. I’d get Chris. We’d be safe together. And I’d wear that damn engagement ring with pride.

All I could think about was Chris now. I should have been paying attention to my surroundings.

Crossing the last street, I didn’t look left or right.

Just a little further and I’d be home.

The car seemed to come out of nowhere- they always do when you aren’t paying attention.

Dad Bio picEli Author Profile

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The stench of rotting flesh is in the air! Welcome to the Summer of Zombie Blog Tour 2015, with 30+ of the best zombie authors spreading the disease in the month of June.

Stop by the event page on Facebook so you don’t miss an interview, guest post or teaser…and pick up some great swag as well!

Giveaways galore from most of the authors as well as interaction with them!

#SummerofZombie is the hashtag for Twitter, too!

Teaser: Leah Rhyne #SummerofZombie

Jennas War 333x500

“Meat’s meat,” said Sam, thumping the butt of his ancient shotgun against the dull hardwood floor. A sound like an actual gunshot rang through the room, and the gathered collection of ragtag survivors sat up a little straighter. “We need to survive, and to survive we need protein. I don’t care where it comes from.”

He paused, letting the words sink in, and I stared at the ground beneath my feet.

Winters in Nebraska – or at least that winter, since it was the only one I’d ever experienced – were hard. The chaotic thunderstorms of the fall gave way only when the furies of blizzards took over, with snow falling so thick and heavy and fast we found ourselves paralyzed, stuck in a farmhouse whose walls cried out in agony against the winds and whose roof sank beneath the snow’s wet, heavy weight.

The number of refugees in the house dwindled, slowly at first but then picking up speed as food stores disappeared and with them, the will to live. We did our best, languishing within the snowbound farmhouse, but suddenly our best wasn’t good enough. Nothing could have prepared us for the dull, aching boredom and the vicious, vengeful starvation of a winter trapped inside the home we once considered paradise.

“Maybe we can try the snowshoes again,” I said, not daring to look up. For the truth of the matter was, Sam had a point. We were starving – not slowly anymore, but daily, with gusto. I rarely ate more than a few mouthfuls of rice a day, squirreling away my shares of food for Sadie or Rosie or Will, who were younger and needed the nutrition more than I did. Hunger was a monster worse than any zombie. It tore at you from the inside out. It made your stomach seize with cramps so painful you dropped to your knees in the middle of a crowded room. It made your head throb and your hands shake and it made you question any decision you’d ever made, because every decision you’d ever made somehow had landed you there, in the midst of the terribly long process of starving to death.

Even though it was barbaric, I couldn’t help but sometimes think with longing of the piles of preserved meat – human meat, the meat of the refugees who’d already succumbed to death – stored in the unused barn less than a hundred yards from our house. I couldn’t help but sometimes remember with a sudden, lurching, hopeful churn of my stomach, the scent of burning human flesh that filled the air as we once, a lifetime before, mounted our escape from the fire-eaten city of New Orleans. Even though I knew with every ounce of my being that it was wrong, somewhere deep in my stomach, as I stared at the swirling pattern of battered wood beneath my feet, I couldn’t help admitting: Sam definitely had a point.

As if reading my mind, Sam thumped the shotgun against the floor again. “You know that won’t work. Our snowshoes are tennis rackets with straps. That’s it. None of us knows the first thing about how to actually use them. And anyway, there’s nowhere close that we haven’t already swept clean of anything and everything useful.”

His words were daggers, sharp and edgy. I forced myself to look up. From across the room, Sam glared at me. Closer than him, his brother Michael, once my husband but now a silent shadow hovering on the outskirts of my daily routine, glared at me too, but for so many different reasons. Beside him stood Simon, his face gaunt beneath a long, graying beard, leaning his near skeletal frame against the old chest of drawers that stood by the foot of his bed. His wife Allie sat beside me, her hand occasionally grasping mine, with fingers so bony and lean I could barely stand their touch.

Me. They all stared at me. As if I’d have all the answers.




Author Image Leah Rhyne

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The stench of rotting flesh is in the air! Welcome to the Summer of Zombie Blog Tour 2015, with 30+ of the best zombie authors spreading the disease in the month of June.

Stop by the event page on Facebook so you don’t miss an interview, guest post or teaser…and pick up some great swag as well!

Giveaways galore from most of the authors as well as interaction with them!

#SummerofZombie is the hashtag for Twitter, too!

Teaser: Mike Evans #SummerofZombie

The Orphans Vol II

Surviving the Turned

By Mike Evans


Shaun rubbed his hands on his face, trying to remain calm. Between the Turned smacking their fists and faces on the hardware store’s windows and Ellie busting his balls, he was becoming irrational and finding it difficult to think. “If I’d realized the consequences of my actions before I did it, then obviously, I wouldn’t have blown the stupid van up. I say we get a crowbar and head up the stairs to the roof.”

They walked an aisle over, looking for the crowbars. Shaun found them and selected one that looked like it could take a lot of abuse. A sound much like a wind chime… or a hanging wrench display… came from somewhere in the back of the store. Tina was grabbing some rope and could already see horrific visions of being lowered off the side of a building to a group of blood-crazed Turned. “Wait a damn minute, why the…”

When the chime sounded, it broke her train of thought and she said, “What the eff was that?”

Shaun walked backward a few steps, looking in the next aisle over and saw nothing. He walked to the back slowly, rifle raised and ready. Ellie whispered, “Shaun… Shaun, don’t be stupid. This is when the dumbass always dies in the movie. Get back here. We can figure out something else.”

Shaun walked up another aisle, looking left and right, training the gun’s sights on it as he did so. Ellie called out one more time, “Shaun, this is a bad idea.”

Shaun looked back over his shoulder, still walking forward. “Ellie, it’s fine. I just want to make sure that everything is okay.”

Ellie didn’t stop for a second. “What about today is ‘okay,’ Shaun? We are in some sort of horrible zombie apocalypse right now and everything outside wants to eat us. We need to get out of here. We don’t have time for—”

Ellie’s face went white. All she could do was point. Tina was perfectly able to produce sound and screamed at a pitch that made everyone, including herself, jump a foot. Shaun whipped his head back around, trying to jump a step back toward Tina and Ellie but as he looked at what he knew they were pointing at, his backward momentum was halted. He was yanked forward as Shaun brought his eyes up to see the Turned shop owner, Bynum. Dried blood surrounded each of his dead eyes and his right arm sported a darkened, purple bite wound just above a tattoo of a scorpion and his hand was locked around his rifle barrel. Shaun tried to pull his rifle from his grip, but Bynum had him dead to rights. The Turned growled lowly, mouth open, reaching in for a taste.

Shaun wasted no more time. He pulled the trigger three times, sending three shots into the man’s chest—bam! bam! bam! The shots made the shop owner back up a few feet, dragging Shaun with him. Shaun and Bynum looked down at the smoke coming from the holes in the Turned man’s chest. He did not so much as flinch when he’d been shot.

Shaun tugged to get the rifle free. Bynum hurled Shaun into the air and let go of the rifle in the process. Tina and Ellie both screamed as they watched their friend soar through the air. Shaun collided into a rack of electric supplies and his rifle skidded in the opposite direction. He did not have the ability to shoot it anyway with the two girls in his line of sight.

He pushed up off of the ground, feeling the hit he had taken in his back. He needed to be able to think on his feet, so he did his best to shake the dazed feeling off. He heard the Turned shop owner growling and saw him twist his head sideways when the girls’ screams caught his attention. Licking his lips, Bynum changed direction and began his pursuit of Ellie and Tina. The girls wasted no time running around the corner, both screaming at the top of their lungs.

Shaun ran after them, looking at the walls lined with odd-and-end tools, not finding anything that could be used as a weapon. Then he noticed an axe lying on the middle shelf near the end of the aisle. He grabbed it by its long wood handle as he ran past. He gripped the edge of a shelf as he skidded around the corner and continued running with no worry or fear about his own well-being; he was only concerned about Tina and Ellie. A few feet away, the girls were cornered and both pressed up against the wall, holding each other. As the Turned reached for them, Shaun brought the axe high above his head as he had done a thousand times before when cutting wood with his dad. He gripped the handle tightly and brought it down with all the force that he had in his body. The blade whistled through the air, embedding itself so far into the skull that the blade was no longer visible, and then split the Turned man’s skull in half. Dark red blood poured from the front and rear of his head. His arms dropped immediately and he fell to his knees, collapsing to the side. The girls both squirmed, moving away from the infected blood coming their way, jumping up on the shelving to get out of its reach.

Shaun placed his boot on Bynum’s shoulder and pulled up and down on the handle until he got the axe head dislodged from the man’s skull. He wiped the blade left and right on the corpse’s black shirt until the silver gleamed under the store’s lights. “Are you two all right?”


Mike Evans lives in Iowa with his wife and children. He writes for character depth because he wishes for you to love the character, regardless if they are the villain or the hero. He likes to write from a unique perspective, doing things with books that no one has done before. He keeps his characters realistic, there are no superhero like events that will happen. There are no perfect characters in his books, everyone has their flaws much like that of life.

Amazon Author Page http://www.amazon.com/Mike-Evans/e/B00IQ9Z75A/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1

Facebook author page https://www.facebook.com/pages/M-Evans-Author/1438259789750360?ref=bookmarks

Twitter @mikee1123

Email m.evansauthor@gmail.com


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The stench of rotting flesh is in the air! Welcome to the Summer of Zombie Blog Tour 2015, with 30+ of the best zombie authors spreading the disease in the month of June.

Stop by the event page on Facebook so you don’t miss an interview, guest post or teaser…and pick up some great swag as well!

Giveaways galore from most of the authors as well as interaction with them!

#SummerofZombie is the hashtag for Twitter, too!

Teaser: Stevie Kopas #SummerofZombie

All Good Things - Official Cover

All Good Things, Book Three in The Breadwinner Trilogy

by Stevie Kopas



Gary tore through the hole in the fence like a bat out of hell.  He could hear his fellow survivors’ footfalls behind him.  In the midst of the firefight, he had been unable to retrieve his weapons and up ahead he spied a few straggling eaters headed his way.  He darted right, taking yet another detour.  His chest burned and his head swam.

How could things have gone so wrong?

Gary looked back only once to see Clyde and Andrew in hot pursuit; he waved an arm, motioning for them to follow him into one of the abandoned homes.

He rushed the door of a 1980’s-style brick home and prayed that it was unlocked.  With a flick of his wrist, he turned the knob and let himself in, the strong scent of rot and decay hitting him instantly.  He brought his hand up to cover his nose and mouth.

“Of course I’d choose this house,” he complained.

Clyde was the first to the door.  Out of breath, he recoiled at the smell emanating from the foyer.  “Oh, God.”  He brought his shirt up to his face.  “This your idea of safe?”  He glared at Gary as he holstered his gun and looked around the entryway for something that could be used as a more silent weapon.  Andrew finally joined them, his chest heaving.

“Give me your golf club.”  Clyde held his hand out to his brother.

“It’s back at the lot, I couldn’t grab it in time.”  Andrew shook his head, his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

“Fucking fantastic.”  Clyde stormed off into the living room, alert and ready for anything.  His adrenaline pumped and he spotted a heavy-duty fire poker next to the fireplace.  The three men heard a thump and the creak of a door toward the back of the house.  “You two, stay here.”

Andrew began to protest but Clyde shot his hand up, palm facing Andrew, and raised an eyebrow.  Andrew kept his mouth shut.

Clyde glanced past his brother toward the open door, wondering why Ben hadn’t caught up with them yet.

The lazy shuffling of footsteps and a low moan caught his attention and he turned, stalking through the out-of-date home.  Brown doors with bright gold knobs adorned the entryway to each room, and the majority of the walls were done in a dark wood paneling.  A dead man stepped into the hallway and cocked his head in Clyde’s direction.  He opened his mouth wide, revealing a set of cracked and blackened teeth.  He hissed, raising an arm and slowly started toward Clyde.  The dead man had a missing eye and several missing fingers.  Dried blood crusted over the left side of his face and as he got closer, Clyde noticed a missing ear, as well.

Clyde charged toward the eater and swung the iron poker, cracking the dead thing across the right side of its head.  The man toppled into the wall in the narrow hallway and struggled to get back to his feet with a growl.  Another moan came from farther back in the depths of the house, but no more eaters emerged.  Clyde kicked the dead man in the face, just under his chin, shattering his teeth and knocking him back to the grimy floor.  Clyde drove the fire poker deep into the eater’s forehead, his one remaining eye rolling to the back of his head, and he finally lie quiet and still.

The poker came back easily from the decayed head with a sickening slurp, black fluids dripping from the edges.

“Disgusting.”  Clyde turned his nose up at the corpse as he wiped the poker off on the dead man’s tattered clothes.  He crept toward the sounds of the other eater in the home and found himself in the doorway to the master bedroom.

Blood, feces, urine, and God knows what other substances covered the bedspread.  A woman was tied to the bedposts by her wrists, her feet free and her legs thrashing wildly when her eyes met Clyde’s.  She’d been gagged, but the rag did little to subdue the eater’s hungry cries.

He felt the air stir and looked up as Gary and Andrew entered the hallway.  The dead woman on the bed howled, her mouth opening and closing rapidly.  The sides of her mouth were raw, the skin peeling and tearing around the bloodstained rag in her mouth.  Her thin, decaying lips exposed rotted teeth and her whole body shook as she screeched.  He entered the bedroom, followed by his brother and Gary.  Despite the fact that two other people were in the bedroom with him, the eater never took her cloudy eyes off Clyde, making his skin crawl.  He gripped his weapon in his right hand and drove it through her skull, putting her out of her misery.  Her head fell to the side as Clyde removed the poker and rested it on the filthy bedspread.

Clyde looked toward the bedroom door and frowned.  Ben had still not joined them.

Stevie Kopas - Summer of Zombie 2015

*   *   *   *   *

The stench of rotting flesh is in the air! Welcome to the Summer of Zombie Blog Tour 2015, with 30+ of the best zombie authors spreading the disease in the month of June.

Stop by the event page on Facebook so you don’t miss an interview, guest post or teaser…and pick up some great swag as well!

Giveaways galore from most of the authors as well as interaction with them!

#SummerofZombie is the hashtag for Twitter, too!

Teaser: Samantha Gregory #SummerofZombie

Book Teaser – After


What would the world be like after a zombie apocalypse? When the zombies have been destroyed and what’s left of humanity tries to pick up the pieces? What happens After…

Jenna Deluise grew up in that world. A world under the thumb of a new military police called the New Alliance which is funded by Gene Pharm, a powerful pharmaceutical company. Her father worked for them as a top scientist before he committed suicide.

When his boss kidnaps Jenna to lure her allegedly dead father out, Jenna realizes that she didn’t know her father at all and that his work on the zombie virus was more sinister than he made out.

Jenna is taken to an underground lab where she finds her father’s ex lab assistant Wesley. He is being forced to finish her father’s work. Jenna and Wesley have to work together to escape the lab, even though Jenna doesn’t trust Wesley after he almost got her killed several years before.

On their journey, they learn more secrets about Jenna’s father. Secrets that have serious repercussions for Jenna.

The novel takes many twists and turns along the way, but despite something as awful as a zombie apocalypse happening, there are still corrupt organizations trying to take control. Gene Pharm was powerful before the outbreak, but once they produced the zombie vaccine, they were the only real power left in America. They established their own police force and took charge.

What the world doesn’t know is that Gene Pharm was only able to come up with a vaccine because they were the ones who created the original virus.

The story continues in the second book, Before, which jumps back to the present day and to the original outbreak on a subway train in New York. The final book is called Virus and will continue Jenna’s story.

*   *   *   *   *

The stench of rotting flesh is in the air! Welcome to the Summer of Zombie Blog Tour 2015, with 30+ of the best zombie authors spreading the disease in the month of June.

Stop by the event page on Facebook so you don’t miss an interview, guest post or teaser…and pick up some great swag as well!

Giveaways galore from most of the authors as well as interaction with them!

#SummerofZombie is the hashtag for Twitter, too!