Problem Three: Hot Zombie Killing Boys Take Forever to Ask Hot Zombie Killing Girls to the Dance: A Paranormal Romance Saga... Um, Kinda (The Zombie Apocalypse ... Things Screwing Up My Social Life Book 3)
Book Details
Author(s)Michele Fiddich
PublisherBroken Road Young Adult Publishing
ISBN / ASINB01FV1UDLS
ISBN-13978B01FV1UDL8
MarketplaceIndia 🇮🇳
Description
Maisy works hard to be attractive. She dresses carefully. She’s keeps up with the latest fashions. She does all she can from avoiding blood and brain splatter so zombie gore won’t distract anyone from the cuteness of her butt. She doesn’t go overboard with the makeup and tries to keep from being too revealing or too covered up. So, why the heck does her best friend Angela already have a date to the dance while Curtis still hasn’t asked her out? While we’re on the subject, with zombie attacks left an right, will there even be a dance this year?
Please note: The series of stories in THE ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AND OTHER THINGS SCREWING UP MY SOCIAL LIFE has a great deal of bloody violence (like you might expect with the words “Zombie” and “Apocalypse” in the title—come to think of it, there are probably some of you out there who would expect that because of the words “Social Life”) so it’s probably not appropriate for everybody who’d like to read it. Give it some time and then go bug your parents for permission.
Here is a preview:
A large female zombie who looked like when she was alive she spent far too much time eating ice cream and watching soap operas was heading my way. She moved slower than a thinner zombie might but God she looked terrifying! Her hair, which had probably been long and stringy in life was long and stringy in death as well. What was really terrifying was that her hands were covered with blood and the whole effect was like she was some kind of a fat, demonic lunch lady ready to tear people limb from limb for refusing to eat mushy Brussels sprouts or for daring to question exactly what was in the tuna surprise. I aimed for her head and shot, but in a terrifying miscarriage of aim justice, I instead ended up shooting at her mouth.
I watched her cheek explode, but it didn’t even slow her down. That only made her even more terrifying, and I took my gun, knelt, used both hands to steady myself and shot. I was rewarded by a glorious explosion right between her eyes that stopped her dead in her tracks. Um, unalive in her tracks? No longer undead in her tracks?
Please note: The series of stories in THE ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AND OTHER THINGS SCREWING UP MY SOCIAL LIFE has a great deal of bloody violence (like you might expect with the words “Zombie” and “Apocalypse” in the title—come to think of it, there are probably some of you out there who would expect that because of the words “Social Life”) so it’s probably not appropriate for everybody who’d like to read it. Give it some time and then go bug your parents for permission.
Here is a preview:
A large female zombie who looked like when she was alive she spent far too much time eating ice cream and watching soap operas was heading my way. She moved slower than a thinner zombie might but God she looked terrifying! Her hair, which had probably been long and stringy in life was long and stringy in death as well. What was really terrifying was that her hands were covered with blood and the whole effect was like she was some kind of a fat, demonic lunch lady ready to tear people limb from limb for refusing to eat mushy Brussels sprouts or for daring to question exactly what was in the tuna surprise. I aimed for her head and shot, but in a terrifying miscarriage of aim justice, I instead ended up shooting at her mouth.
I watched her cheek explode, but it didn’t even slow her down. That only made her even more terrifying, and I took my gun, knelt, used both hands to steady myself and shot. I was rewarded by a glorious explosion right between her eyes that stopped her dead in her tracks. Um, unalive in her tracks? No longer undead in her tracks?
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