Yay! SFR Brigade Presents is here again! I adore jumping from blog to blog and reading the fun (and sometimes sexy) snippets by some of the best Science Fiction Romance authors out there. And what an unbelievable honor to be included in the mix!
This week, I present a scene from my post-apocalyptic romance, currently titled "Biters." Sadly, I came up with that name before every zombie story known to man started using it. My novel does indeed have humanistic cannibals, but they are mutants not zombies. Until my protagonist can decide what to call the mutants based on their leper-like appearance (something along the lines of "blanks," "waxes" or "erasers" to match the tabula rasa theme of the book), the Biters will remain...uh...bite-y.
In this blurb, Riley, my heroine, and the other survivors of the "Blast" have stopped at an abandoned gas station in the middle of nowhere to stock up on supplies. Only it doesn't stay abandoned for long...
Many of the mutants were completely fingerless, quite a few were without entire limbs, at least one was missing half a face, and all were covered from head to toe with gaping, pustulating wounds. In total, the severity of the injuries marred any semblance of humanity. The Biters had become lumps of muscle and skin barely held together by bones; genuine monsters in form as well as deed.
For half a second, I thought about making a stand. Thank goodness that idea only lasted long enough for me to get the picture of myself as the flesh version of an ice cream truck for mutants – complete with the happy music.
I ran. Colton did, too. Did he also envision a white van and hear the tinkling of a music box rendition of “Do Your Ears Hang Low?”
The Biters followed, all of them. They poured over the open field, running, crawling, rolling and tripping over each other in their haste to reach us. It looked like one of those TV game shows where the contestants must race to win the game. And we were the prizes.
GO READ THE OTHER ENTRIES! You won't regret it!
