Can’t help talking about what I want to write. It’s a danger though to talk about it too much and not be doing. For the final blog of the A to Z Challenge, I offer you an excerpt from my Zombie Romance (Title to be determined). This is the WIP (work in progress) my husband and I are planning to co-author. Hope you like it.
Dean Logan could not tear his eyes away from his supposedly lost and dead wife. He had thought if he ever saw her again, she’d be a walker. There she sat, though, alive and well. The soft waves of her honey brown hair draped across the shoulder, the bright green eyes hooded by heavy dark lashes, the sprinkle of paler than pale freckles across her aquiline nose. How many photos had he taken of those features? It was like a window to the past, to happier times before Kelley began working at the Infection Institute and became obsessed with the cause.
I shouldn’t be surprised to see her so altered, yet again. Impulsive and sure of what she wanted, they’d married within eight weeks of meeting at a presentation he gave for the Institute. As a prominent local photographer, the Institute had enrolled his expertise to document in photographs the stage by stage progression of the Great Infection. Kelley had been mesmerized by the series of photos of infected wounds time lapsed from months into minutes. But it was the faces of the victims that touched her most. Seeing their humanity fade from infection onset into slackened face muscle, gray eyed monsters. At that first introduction to his work she’d said, “You’ve captured the plight of the victims so perfectly.”
Legally the infected were no longer human beings. They had no rights and were a walking danger to society. To Kelley they were people sick-unto-death who ought to be treated as such. Her compassion had been part of her allure. It was a tender affection that grew after she got the internship at the Institute and she began documenting the victims’ fall into greedy oblivion. She called them by name, documented when they stopped responding to it, and knew that for a short time beyond remembering their own names they still recognized the sound of her caring voice. But the more she poured herself into her work, the less there had been of her in their home.
She had seemed so changed to him then. It was nothing compared to now. This quiet, shy woman who moved with careful grace touching things and glancing away from him. Completely altered.
He could have helped ease her, made more than monosyllabic conversational responses. He could have. He didn’t. Whether she was a zombie or not, part of him wanted to pick up that gun and shoot her for what she’d put them through. He wanted to shake some sense into her so she wouldn’t run off to help the monsters again. He was so angry with Kelley. He wanted to pour it out on her. How could he do that, though, when he couldn’t find one ounce of who she had been in her manner or attitudes? Could a person’s character be so fundamentally altered by trauma? He wished he was closer to his father-in-law and could have had a man-to-man discussion about finding your wife so changed.
Dean tore himself away and went into the kitchen without a word. Maybe reorganizing the cabinets would be a helpful distraction from the stranger in his living room who was his wife.
Zombie Romance © Copyright 2014 by Kristin King
Adios A to Z, it really has been a challenge.
Kristin King is an author and publisher. Her top sellers are “Unsinkable Vampire” and “Cain’s Coven,” and her latest novel in the Begotten Bloods Series is Death Taint. Her imprint Three Kings Publishing can be found here. Three Kings is a Mom & Pop publisher of Christian writers (not necessarily Christian books).