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We Kill Dead Things [Zombie Exterminators]
by Sommer Marsden

Category: Erotica/Paranormal Erotica/Science Fiction
Description: Poppy thinks her life is weird working the food court at Parktowne mall, until in one brief moment of creeper killing, things change forever. Now she's a freelance zombie exterminator along with her long lusted after coworker Garrity (her not-so-secret crush), a somewhat lusted after bad boy Cahill, and pretty gay boy Noah. When the four are hired to do a ballsy zombie clean up at St. Peter's Hospital, Poppy finds out just what's more scary than creepers: The Evoluminaries, a zealot cult who think zombies are part of God's chosen, who happen to end up thinking Poppy might make a mighty good zombie incubator. She finds herself finally sleeping with Garrity, being hunted by a crazy preacher man and stumbling over the fact that Cahill and Noah have become lovers somewhere in the chaos. And that's all on the job. Just another day in the life when you kill dead things...
eBook Publisher: Resplendence Publishing, LLC, 2011 May
eBookwise Release Date: October 2011

eBookeBook

3 Reader Ratings:
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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [108 KB]
Words: 22744
Reading time: 64-90 min.


Honestly, the whole thing is Noah's fault. We were all doing our normal closing-time bitchfest in the food square at Parktowne Mall and not really paying attention, when the first creeper showed up. That's what we call them--the zombies--creepers.

Anyway, the first one showed up, and I assumed it was just another stoner looking for a slushie. Nope. It took all of my college logic skills to finally realize the creeper was up to no good when it lunged over the counter at me.

Garrity--Chris to his enemies--the object of my not-so-secret lust, let out a yell and rushed out with the bat we keep behind the counter at Smash It, the slushy and juice shop we run. He hit the guy on the shoulder--intending to do no real damage--but the bat sort of sank in and then made a squishy noise.

"He reeks," I'd yelled, or something equally brilliant.

Then Noah was running out of Mamma's Pies pizza stand with a meat cleaver of all things. Which he promptly buried in the guy's skull. Thank God he was carving up Italian beef at the time.

The creeper gave me a stunned look that almost made me feel bad for him and Noah gave the cleaver another little shove and something cracked deep in the dead guy's skull.

The dead guy fell on me.

Gross.

That had been the first creeper, and Noah had taken it out (being the only one smart enough to have the news on in his food court stall so he actually had news about the suddenly mobile undead). Garrity had to take out six more before we got the main doors locked. Nick Cahill--main man at The Beef Barn--found one making the moves on a side of beef in the walk-in. He took it out with an electric knife.

The night was pretty much what bizarre is made of, and when we found ourselves clustered on the merry-go-round drinking a good bottle of wine pilfered from the gourmet place, Noah made a joke.

"We should start a new business," he laughed. He was a business major, after all. "Our slogan could be We Kill Dead Things."

Like I said, it's all Noah's fault. Because that is what we do now. A year later, and we're pretty damn good at it. We kill dead things.


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