Hi all! A while back I had the opportunity to beta read this YA story for Pippa (yes, I know, not quite my usual fare, but I can digress, right?), so I’m quite excited (see my tail wagging, anyone?) to share it’s progress with you. And as you can see, it’s got a cover.
First up, here’s the blurb:
Imagine waking up to find the world has ended, but unfortunately you’re not alone…
For Connor Innis, awakening from a year-long coma with no memories, no ability to move, and unable to speak was bad enough. Then he learns that a bioweapon set off a zombie apocalypse—for real—while he was sleeping, and the world he can’t even remember no longer exists.
Rehabilitation might be torture, but far worse awaits him outside. All too soon, the hospital Mentor declares him fit to leave but with nothing to go home to except a city full of mindless, flesh-eating monsters. That is, until he forms a strange relationship with the one he nicknames ‘Zombie Girl’.
And now I’ll give you the cover.
To whet your appetite further, here is the opening to the book.
He woke to sensations of warmth and heaviness. The relentless thump, thump of a heartbeat and the rushing sound of someone breathing unsteadily. It took time to recognize the heartbeat as his own, to connect the breathing to air moving in and out of his own chest.
How long had he been asleep?
He didn’t remember going to bed. He couldn’t open his eyes. Confusion muddled his thoughts. Wait. Why can’t I move?
Panic set his pulse racing, but a weight held him down. He choked on something pressing at the back of his throat. Nothing responded as he struggled to move. Damn, am I paralyzed? Trapped under something?
“Please try to remain calm. You are perfectly safe.”
Remain calm? What the fuck does this moron expect?
“Please try to calm yourself.”
He couldn’t place a gender to the voice, and the flat unemotional tone meant it was probably synthetic. What were they called? Mentors. That was it. An artificial entity called a Mentor. The knowledge seeped into his awareness like blood oozing through a shallow cut.
His struggles weren’t getting him anywhere except a quick trip to a heart attack. He forced himself to take slow breaths, to steady himself. Not because the voice said so, but because there was nothing else he could do. He swallowed, painfully aware of the pressure of a tube in his nose and down his throat. He tried to talk, and heard a weird gurgle instead of words.
“Please relax. Do not attempt to move or speak at this time. Once you are calm, I will explain your situation fully.”
So there you have it.
Thanks for letting me share your cover, Pippa. Looking forward to whatever happens next!