Now that my rockstar romance has been accepted by Evernight, I’ve moved on. I’m writing a new menage and it’s got zombies, a woman named Lark, and some serious angst. This is the very beginning of the book (rough draft version):
“Olivia, they’re coming up the outside walls!” Lark yelled, gripping the bat in her right hand so tightly she couldn’t feel her fingertips anymore. “Shit! Get the hairspray.”
“It’s our last bottle! Forget it, just shut the window,” her best friend and roommate said. “We can’t risk it. My dad is coming—”
“Olivia, I swear to God, get the damn hairspray. We don’t have time to argue about this.” Lark held out a hand, not even looking to make sure Olivia listened. She couldn’t take her eyes off the creatures directly below them. They were hideous: grey faces under scraggly hair, chunks of skin missing. Every time she remembered that they were once human, some of them friends, she wanted to vomit.
Focus, Lark. No time to think of that now! she told herself, swallowing hard. When Olivia slipped the cool bottle of hairspray into her palm, she tucked the bat under her arm and flipped out her lighter in one smooth motion. “Stand back,” she warned, then leaned out the window, lighting the aerosol. A tongue of flame shot down, catching the last bits of ivy still clinging to the brick. It also caught the three zombies clawing their way up. Their bodies flared, heat rising so fast Lark had to duck back inside before she could tell if she’d got them all. She slammed the window shut, hands shaking.
“Are you okay?” Olivia asked.
“Jesus, Olivia. That was close,” Lark replied, slumping down. “Why didn’t you give me the can sooner?”
“My dad is coming,” Olivia insisted again.
Lark didn’t know what that had to do with anything.