My first series, ‘The Life After Life Chronicles’ begins withZombie Turkeys.Turkeys are always good for the holidays. I have people eating zombie turkeys in the book–and vice versa. It’s .99 for a book of laughter at your favorite zombie tropes. See below for some excerpts. Click here to get Zombie Turkeys.
My second series I wrote for my disabled daughter Tori who wanted a story with a flying wheelchair. The main hero, Jeremy Gentle, has cerebral palsy and an electric wheelchair like Tori. And he gets telekinesis and can fly in his wheelchair.
My last blog post told you of Paranormal Privateers, my wild, comical adventure tale of a family of zombies on a superyacht with a letter of marquis from the President to attack all US enemies–with plausible deniability. (See here if you missed it and its excerpt: Imagine You’re a Privateer. What Is It Like?
Tom turned on all the floodlights in the yard and saw that the traps he had at the doors to his barn had already been activated. These traps killed more gruesomely than the chainsaw one, but they weren’t as noisy. These traps were a series of wooden boxes, three feet on a side. A turkey-sized hole, led to a turkey-sized tunnel, led to a turkey-sized trap door, led to a wood chipper. The chopped turkey went from the wood chipper into a bin.
Tom had joked to his wife he could sell this as turkey sausage.
* * *
It’s What’s for Dinner–and breakfast!
Sam said, “Do you mind if I tell people about your zombie traps?”
Betty smiled grimly, “Not at all. My brother Jerry helped Tom make them. Put them on your website, and we’ll sell them to other turkey farms in Illinois—along with our sausage.Tom joked about selling turkey sausage. Maybe I’ll really do that. It’d be like a way of getting even.”
“I’ve sure that won’t be FDA allowable.”
“I know that. I’ll sell it as genuine zombie turkey sausage, not suitable for human consumption. A novelty item, like canned unicorn.”
“Hmmm. You can advertise on the Midley Beacon YouTube site for free, if we get half the profits.”
“That’s too high. Make it a quarter, and you’ve got a deal. A widow’s got to live.”They shook on it.
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Imagine You’re a Privateer. What’s It Like? That’s the premise of Paranormal Privateers. Through a series of events (In My Undead Mother-in-law) an ordinary, middle-aged couple becomes the leaders of a ship of privateers. Well, they’re ordinary, middle-aged zombies. My zombies regenerate, they don’t rot. They get stronger and faster, sort of like superheroes.
Chapter 1 icon
But what are privateers? They’re hired by the government for military duties, usually by ship. We got close to hiring airship companies to patrol the coasts in World War II. We hired ships in the War of 1812. The President still has that power.
But let’s start at the beginning: Their first assignment is to get the ringleader of band of Somalia pirates.
By the way, I show you how to get this book at over 80% off, later on.
Imagine You’re a Privateer – The Opening
Chapter 1 – Somalia
I sighed with relief when the US flag came down and the surrender flag went up on the mast of the enormous luxury yacht. I didn’t mind firing rounds from my AK-47 over their heads, but I hated killing people. They’re only infidels, but they’re still people.
Inhaling the salted breeze I grinned back at Muhammed, who was cheering and laughing from his seat behind the M2 machine gun in the bow of our boat we used to patrol the coasts and fishing waters of Somalia.
The sun gleamed off his white teeth, set in his brown face. “Look! They’re stopping” he cried.
True enough. The bow wave ceased as I watched. A pod of dolphins ended their sporting on the wake and submerged. The gleaming white yacht was truly enormous. What were they doing in the fishing waters of Somalia? I couldn’t imagine the wealth onboard. Enough for our whole village to eat well for a year!
Imagine You’re A Privateer – Part 2
Our Supreme Leader, Omar Ogala, had organized the fishermen and former coast guard sailors to patrol our fishing waters. He ordered us to capture any fishing or cargo vessels we found. He told us the Americans and Europeans no longer cared about Somalia with the other crisis around the world and we could defend our fishermen from foreign competition—and dumpers. Many foreign nations, knowing Somalia’s weakness, would send cargo ships full of pollutants and dump them in our waters.
I never expected to see a luxury ship here. It was as big as a cruise liner, but it was apparently a private yacht. I’d seen one once before, when an Arab sheik visited Mogadishu. This one was three times the size! The owner would pay big to get it back. Maybe even a billion dollars? I couldn’t imagine that much money, and I was good with numbers. Let’s see: fourteen million people lived in Somalia. Divide a billion dollars among them would give each about $70. Unbelievable. A family of five could live comfortably for year on that!
Imagine You’re a Privateer – Part 3
The Paranormal Privateers back cover. Click to get yours!
I came along as a navigator, fighter, and boarder, guiding our boat along the shore of Somalia and into the Arabian Gulf for several days, before leading us back. Besides Muhammed and me, there was Zahi, another fighter and boarder, and Ali, our captain.
“Diric,” Ali said to me, “You and Zahi board this ship and take the helm. You will follow us back to Hobyo. Muhammud and I will stay on the boat and keep the machine gun on them.”
“Yes sir,” I said.
Ali took the megaphone we carried for ship to ship communication. “Let us board! Let us board! Or we will gun your ship!” I didn’t understand English, of course, but I knew what he was saying. Ali was the only one who knew any English.
Imagine You’re A Privateer – Part 4
“Don’t shoot! Give us time! We have to get our ladder!” Surprisingly, the person spoke in Arabic. It was good Arabic too, but with a strange Saudi and European accent. More surprisingly, it was a woman, a blonde, from what I could see of the figure leaning over the railing far above us.
We kept our boat about fifty meters away from the ship and watched the crew scurry about the decks.
There were many; I counted five including the main deck and there were at least three more decks below the main one.
Finally, rope ladder unrolled from the main deck, perhaps ten meters above us. We came close to the ship. I saw the pod of dolphins flash under our boat. Then they leapt out of the water and into it.
Only they weren’t the dolphins I had seen earlier. Four people in black wetsuits landed with heavy thumps in our boat. They had no breathing equipment, not even snorkles. They took off their goggles and their eyes shone bright red in the sun.
Imagine You’re a Privateer – Part 5
Diane Newby, in her natural environment.
“Zombies!” cried Ali. “Shoot them!”
Automaticly I sprayed the nearest with my AK-47. I heard the others fire too. Muhammed shot the biggest one with the machine gun. That could cut a man in two.
Dozens of red craters appeared in the black wet suit of the one I shot. But she—it was a white, brown-haired woman—didn’t go down. Her brows furrowed in anger and shouting in English, she ripped the gun from my hand and threw it into the ocean.
The other zombies did the same, except the big one. He grabbed the barrel of the machine gun in both hands and wrenched it from Muhammud. I could hear his flesh sizzle on the hot barrel. Then he bent the barrel into a right angle. Rubbing his hands together afterward, the burnt skin fell on the deck of our boat. Pink skin showed on his palms.
George Newby, wide-body zombie.
He was enormous, bigger than two of us put together. He red eyes looked out of his calm, square face.
The bullets from the machine gun had sliced the wet suit open across his chest, and more pink skin showed in the gap. As I watched, brown hair grew from it.
We were all struck dumb with shock and terror. Then the woman I shot called up to the main deck. The one on deck yelled down in Arabic, “All of you, lie down on the deck, and you will live.” We quickly did.
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What is Paranormal Privateers All About? It’s one of my favorite books. It’s my most complex and surprising. So what is it about and why do I like it? I give you a free sample below. It’s in a unique humorous zombie hero genre.
Diane Newby, in her natural environment.
But let’s start at the beginning: My Undead Mother-in-law,introduces the Newbys, a zombie family. The son, Don Newby, shows up in Zombie Turkeys. The family, led by the matriarchal undead mother-in-law Diane Newby, fights for zombie rights and any criminals that cross their paths. It helps that my zombies regenerate from injuries and get stronger each time.
This leads to Paranormal Privateers where the President has given them a letter of marquis to fight as privateers on behalf of the United States. They’re given assignments that are too dangerous or sensitive for the US to intervene directly. Like Somalian pirates.
A heavy tread down the stairs announced George Newby. His eyes shone red too, but while Diane was built like a middle-aged woman, George was a classic wide-body. His shoulders filled the stairway. You’d think he was a truck driver or a lineman rather than an accountant.
“Hi, Karen. Hi, Ron,” he rumbled. He hugged his daughter, as if he held a baby bird, and shook my hand without hurting me in his bratwurst fingers. His bright red eyes looked squarely into mine.
“Sharon Windham – tall blonde bodyguard from England. “Her eyes shone bright red under a broad brow, with blonde eyelashes and a square chin. She could be a marble idol from a Greek temple. A zombie goddess”–from Paranormal Privateers
She was a former crime lord bodyguard who switched alliegiance to Diane Newby. Former Crossfit athlete, model, and competitive swimmer.. She deamt of becoming a UN translator. She speaks 11 languages: English, French, German, Norwegian, Swedish, Danish, Chinese, Korean, Arabic, Hebrew, Greek, and Russian. Trained in katana, nunchuks, and naginata.
Darkly beautiful bodyguard from Acapulco Mexico. 5′ 4″ Former cliff diver and rock climber. Former crime lord bodyguard, now protecting Diane Newby. Former MMA fighter and bodybuilder. Trained in katana, nunchuks, and naginata.
I examined my cell methodically. A drainpipe, two inches in diameter. A toilet. A hard bed. A steel door with hinges on the outside. I’d probably need to escape from somewhere other than this cell. Once they established a routine with my interrogation, I’d look for escape routes.
I chuckled to myself. Synthia Smith was my true name, in the sense it matched my birth certificate and other current identification. Before Synthia Smith, I was Rachel Rathbone, and before that Quinella Quincy, and so on, through the alphabet. My earliest memory was a toddler named Betty Botter. I had to be cute and pick pockets. Who knew what my original name was? Changing identities was a standard procedure for me with each new assignment.
This had been my most challenging operation, and I’d almost pulled it off. Those damn zombies! Had I blown up Harrods, the demands for billions in exchange for each national landmark’s safety would have been credible.
They had no idea of the bigger picture—and they wouldn’t get it. My terrorist cover story was completely true, but neither the terrorists nor Scotland Yard knew they were merely a means to an end. It was the truth: total subjugation of the United Kingdom was a reasonable goal for one like me, a child of the world’s greatest criminal.
I knew more about Papa Smith, my ostensible grandfather, than any of my siblings. I think I actually touched his feelings as a loving granddaughter, and I think he shared more with me than with any of his other crime-lord grandchildren. Of course, he might be manipulating me, just as I tried to manipulate him. That was the most reasonable assumption, especially if we were actually related.
What Is Paranormal Privateers All About? – Synthia Smith, Part 2
Regardless, I felt fond of him. When I overthrew him and took over his crime empire, I thought I’d keep him alive. I enjoyed our talks via our secured video line. When he’d shared Sid Boffin’s failure with me, I clapped in delight as he praised me for staying in touch with him. I think that was genuine emotion and not an act. It was hard to tell sometimes.
A motion on the floor caught my eye as I sat on the bed. A cockroach crawled up the drain and onto the floor. Surprising. Usually, Britain kept their prisons pest free. Then another. Then a dozen more. And then, hundreds.
This was not normal cockroach behavior. They did not come into the light in hordes. I sat cross-legged on the bed and watched the swarm with fascination. They climbed the door, walked its steel perimeter, and went back down the drain as others came up.
Curious, I nabbed one using my lightning reflexes. Examining it, I saw a metal dot under its thorax and a narrow tube attached to its abdomen. A pungent, acidic smell came from the tube. I looked back to the door. The acid ate a narrow trench in the door’s perimeter, right where the cockroaches still marched. Near the ceiling light, I saw mist curl away from the door.
Synthia Smith, Part 3
Modified and controlled cockroaches—like Sid Boffin’s cyborg-controlled animals. I’d read his Ph.D. paper as well as the Midley Beacon‘s declassified reports on his battles with the zombies. Since Sid was dead at the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico, this could only be one of my siblings or Papa Smith trying to rescue me.
Using my perfect memory of the twists and turns when they’d led me here hooded, counting my steps, and remembering the doors, I was confident I could retrace the route.
The last of the cockroaches marched around the door, leaving its trail of acid. They etched the door perhaps a centimeter deep. Couldn’t be much left.
I knocked on the door. Yes, it felt like a centimeter thick, and it echoed like it was almost cut through. Then someone knocked back, much harder.
“I’m here!” I called. I assumed this was my rescuer.
“Step back,” grated a curious, tinny voice, like it was coming through a small radio.
I stepped away.
CLUMP! CLUMP! Two metallic thunks hit the other side of the door. Then, SKREERK! The door tore off like the lid of a tin of meat.
I didn’t expect what I saw. A male silverback gorilla filled the doorway and the whole hallway beyond. Thick armor covered his body. Casually, he placed the door scrap against the hall.
This series is the first I have read of Andy Zach’s and I am glad I picked it up! The series continues with lots of action, characters continue to be developed, humor, and the zombies are still not mindless shells ambling around awaiting an axe to the head. Still a refreshing take on zombies as a whole. I look forward to what Andy writes next! Audio Version: Phil Blechman and Raven Perez do a great job with their respective characters and the overall narration.
The cover of my third novel Paranormal Privateers. Click to get yours.
Any newsletter subscriber gets free audiobook codes–as long as they last. Click here to get yours.Don’t wait until they’re gone!
Do you want an autographed book? I’ll mail it directly to you with free shipping and I pay the taxes! Click here to get yours. My shipping may not be the same day, but at least it’s free–for you.
