Well, not exactly. I'm writing about people dealing with zombies and each other in a post-apocalyptic setting. I (almost) swore I never would, but, as Justin Bieber says, never say never.
Great Zeus, did I just reference Bieber?
I'll be releasing Dead Lands in three parts. If I still want to play in the world I've created, I have ideas for other books.
Come back Friday for a the first chapter of the first installment, Pass the Ammunition. Until then, here's a teaser:
Back in high school, Mrs. Phelps made us do this little writing project about what kind of junk we’d grab if our house was on fire. She was an English teacher and older than both my folks put together. Even her wrinkles had wrinkles, but you won’t see anyone that old anymore. They can’t run fast enough. They can’t swing a bat or sledge hammer hard enough to crack a zombie’s skull. Most kids wrote down inane shit like family photos or their Chihuahua. I think I wrote about my brother’s Playboy collection. That was a different life.