Problem Four: Zombies Aren't the Only Problem Because Boys Are Stupid: A Young Adult Paranormal Romance...Um, Kinda (The Zombie Apocalypse and Other Things Screwing Up My Social Life Book 4)

It’s hard being a teenage girl. There are so many societal expectations and boys just never seem to ask girls to the dance when they should. It’s impossible to find shoes that fit an outfit and then when you do, you’re stuck with grass stains all over them and the worst part is that killing zombies stops being fun when you’re always reminded that they’re actually people. What’s a girl to do to blow off steam when mowing down the undead isn’t even fun anymore?

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:

I realized the blood wasn’t just keeping me in one place. It was still pooling and getting closer to my shoes.
I couldn’t have that and I’d never wished so hard that I was an archeologist with a bull whip before that moment. Of course I wasn’t but I did take off my backpack and threw it out of the way. Then, with no other choice, I just went for it, jumping as far as I could from a standing position and landing just past one of the ex-lady’s heads. I stumbled for six or seven steps until I fell down next to my backpack. I rolled over right away and there was good news and bad news. The good news was there wasn’t any blood on my shoes. The bad news is the shoes had green stains from the grass. I stood up and grabbed my backpack and just because it was convenient, I decided to blame boys for my shoes being green.
So, I was already in a pretty bad mood.
Hell, I was in a very angry mood, and the foulness of it just kept growing with every step because I couldn’t keep myself from occasionally looking down at my shoes. It was particularly irritating because I’d tried to make myself look good today. I’d worn a pink tee shirt that was just a little too tight, put a cute pink ribbon in my hair, and worn the jeans that actually made my butt look like something a boy might want to look at. The damned white shoes were the icing on the cake but now the icing was green and that ticked me off. Stupid boys. The stupid boys made me want to dress nicely and now it was stupid boys that made me feel horrible about my outfit being screwed up.
Well, one stupid boy anyway.
Today was it.
Today was it, dang it, and if he didn’t ask me to the dance I was pretty sure I’d start trying to research old Haitian rituals that would turn Curtis into a zombie so I’d have a good excuse to shoot him right between those beautifully expressive but still dark and foreboding eyes I could look at for hours and lose myself until—darn it!