White Trash Zombie Apocalypse

237 Pages·2013·1.12 MB·English

by  Rowland Diana

Raves for Even White Trash Zombies Get the Blues:
“If you missed My Life as a White Trash Zombie, Rowland’s truly wonderful
series starter about new zombie Angel Crawford, be sure to rectify that mistake
and also pick up the next chapter about this amazingly engaging heroine.
Rowland has come up with a perfect blend of creepy, scary, yet emotionally
touching adventures for her gutsy and endearing heroine. Angel’s evolution from
depressed loser to young woman learning to trust her instincts is entertainment at
its best. Do not miss out on this exceptional series!”
–RT Book Reviews
“So far, this has been an incredibly fun series, and a breath of fresh air in an
increasingly crowded field. While there’s no denying that the basic premise is
fascinating and entertaining, the real draw here is Angel’s personal journey of
growth and self-discovery.…Angel’s a heroine worth cheering for.”
–Tor.com
“If you haven’t discovered this series, you’re in for a treat. Angel is one of my
favorite heroines in urban fantasy right now, and I can’t wait to see what she’s
up to next!”
–My Bookish Ways
“Even White Trash Zombies Get The Blues is the perfect sequel to My Life As A
White Trash Zombie and a must read for all fans of urban fantasy and zombies.”
–Smexy Books
And for My Life as a White Trash Zombie:
“An intriguing mystery and a hilarious mix of the horrific and mundane aspects
of zombie life open a promising new series from Rowland.…Humor and gore
are balanced by surprisingly touching moments as Angel tries to turn her (un)life
around.”
–Publishers Weekly
“Rowland’s delightful novel jumps genre lines with a little something for
everyone—mystery, horror, humor, and even a smattering of romance. Not to be
missed—all that’s required is a high tolerance for gray matter. For true
zombiephiles, of course, that’s a no brainer.”
zombiephiles, of course, that’s a no brainer.”
–Library Journal
“Every bit as fun and trashy as the brilliant cover. The story is gory and
gorgeous with plenty of humor and a great new protagonist to root for. There is
also a tightly written murder mystery too that shocked me by the end. No word
yet on the next book in the White Trash Zombie series, but I’m already feeling
the Hunger.”
–All Things Urban Fantasy
Also by Diana Rowland:
SECRETS OF THE DEMON
SINS OF THE DEMON
TOUCH OF THE DEMON
FURY OF THE DEMON*
MY LIFE AS A WHITE TRASH ZOMBIE
EVEN WHITE TRASH ZOMBIES
GET THE BLUES
WHITE TRASH ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE
*Coming in 2014 from DAW
WHITE TRASH
ZOMBIE
APOCALYPSE
DIANA ROWLAND
Copyright © 2013 by Diana Rowland.
All Rights Reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-101-63560-5
Cover art by Daniel Dos Santos.
Cover design by G-Force Design.
DAW Book Collectors No. 1628.
DAW Books are distributed by Penguin Group (USA).
All characters and events in this book are fictitious.
All resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental.
The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or any
other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal, and punishable by
law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate
in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of
the author’s rights is appreciated.
Nearly all the designs and trade names in this book are registered trademarks.
All that are still in commercial use are protected by United States and
international trademark law.
DAW TRADEMARK REGISTERED
U.S. PAT. AND TM. OFF AND FOREIGN
COUNTRIES
—MARCA REGISTRADA
HECHO EN U.S.A.
For Jack and Anna
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book would not be possible without a great deal of help and support.
Therefore, enormous thanks go out to Sherry Rowland, Kat Johnson, Dr.
Kristi Charish, Robert J. Durand, Myke Cole, Mary Robinette Kowal, Dr.
Michael Defatta, Catherine Rathbun, Tara Sullivan Palmer, Tricia Borne,
Deborah Jack, Lindsay Ribar, Matt Bialer, Dan Dos Santos, Marylou Capes-
Platt, Joshua Starr, Betsy Wollheim, everyone at DAW, the internet hivemind,
and all of my wonderful readers.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 1
Rain. Lots of it. Not yet, but soon. I hadn’t heard a forecast, and I sure as hell
wasn’t psychic, but I’d lived in southeastern Louisiana all my life and felt the
coming downpour in my bones. Of course, the really dark, ominous clouds
helped a bit too.
But that was nothing. Not with zombies roaming the streets of Tucker Point.
Several shuffled along the sidewalk, and a dozen or so huddled together,
gruesome and shabby, in front of the Sundown Café, one taking a drag from a
cigarette through cracked and bloody lips. Apart from the nearby movie crew,
the cigarette was a sure sign these were zombie wannabes and not the real thing.
No self-respecting zombie would be caught dead smoking.
Caught dead. I snorted. But the truth was that zombies were some of the
cleanest-living people I knew. Had to be since anything bad for you, like
cigarette smoke, drugs, or alcohol, used up precious brains to detoxify the body.
And if you didn’t get more brains quickly, you’d start to rot. Not fun. I’d been a
pill-popping alcoholic smoker before I was turned. Now the most toxic
substance I consumed was coffee.
Well, mostly. Every now and then I still took a quick drag for old times sake.
I drove slowly, watching with roll-my-eyes amusement as the crew filmed a
couple of fake zombies shambling after a shotgun-wielding woman. No
stereotypes here. No sirree.
The majority of the movie-related activity seemed to be taking place at the
back of Tucker Point High School, where school had let out for the summer a
week earlier. A couple of eighteen-wheelers were pulled up in the lot on the side,
and I saw movie people and equipment all over the blocked-off street ahead as
well as on the school grounds to the left.
The cop at the end of the street pulled the barricade aside without my having
to flash my badge. My Coroner’s Office van was plain black with no markings,
but he’d probably been on enough death scenes to know the routine well enough
to expect me. His face registered recognition, and he gave me a friendly wave as
I passed through. I gave a polite hand lift in response but had no clue if I’d ever
seen him before. It was probably a lot easier for cops to remember the scrawny
little blond chick who worked as a bodysnatcher for the Coroner’s Office than
for me to remember one cop’s face in a sea of identical uniforms.