Hello! It`s time for Tuesday Tales.
I'm kicking off a brand new LGBTQ romance this week and it's not about hockey! I know, I'm shocked as well. We're going to be having some zombie fun as I begin working on the fourth and final Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse novella. This one is titled Zombies, Zendra and Ziegfeld Follies. It's been some time since I got to hang out with Paul Cooke and Gordon Moretti, my leading men in this zom-rom-com series, and boy did I miss them!
To set things up, Paul and Gordon found themselves smack dab in the middle of a zombie breakout. The virus, a super rabies, manufactured by a company called Zendra, has now mutated and zombies have taken over. Paul and Gordon have headed north to the Northwest Territories to try to get away from the undead and they've picked up some interesting characters along the way.
In the last book Paul, Gordon, and they friends stumbled across an abandoned lumberjack camp and took it over. Winter was long and hard but somehow our two ex-educators and their rag-tag group managed to survive. Spring has now crept into the Territories and our leading men are going to have to face things more frightening than the dead-the living and Zendra, the company who unwittingly unleashed the end of civilization on an unsuspecting world.
Now onto the warnings and such-
This story contains crude language, gore because of the darn zombies, and gay sexual situations. If that offends now would be the time to move onto another Tuesday Tales offering. This week we have a picture prompt and our excerpt must be less than 300 words and reflect the picture.
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"O were my love yon Lilac fair,
Wi' purple blossoms to the Spring,
And I, a bird to shelter there,
When wearied on my little wing!"
I lowered my hand from the air to glance down at my kneeling gardening partner. Tink, who was now free from her pink roots, ran the back of her hand over her brow and cocked a thin eyebrow at me.
"That was Robert Burns," I explained when she continued to look at me oddly.
"I know a poem about spring too, Paul. Want to hear it?"
"I would love to." I smiled at her. No one was more excited about the knowledge that winter was on its way out than I was. It had been a long - and Mister when I say long I mean L-O-N-G winter - up here in the glorious and beautiful Northwest Territories of Canada. Our little band of survivors had somehow managed to eke out an existence as the snow piled up outside our little lumberjack cabins. At one point, we were moving from one cabin to another through snowy lanes dug into several feet of snow. It was ghastly. Tortuous. Mind-numbingly boring. Did I mention how bad it had been?
"Spring has sprung; now get the fuck back to work. I want to get back to Dottie and help with the baby."
"Your poetic meter is sadly lacking." I frowned then knelt down beside the skinny little lesbian with mud streaked over her cheeks. "Also, just so you know, you are killing my spring buzz."
"Just work the damn dirt. Save your poetry for after-dinner entertainment."
"We're doing arts and crafts after dinner this evening," I informed her. Tink rolled her dark eyes and continued working the still cold ground with a small hand rake.
Copyright 2016 ©by V.L. Locey
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