Book Excerpt - Wanted: Dead or Undead Blog Tour Stop

Today I am apart of the Angela Scott Wanted: Dead or Undead Blog Tour! Hosted by my lovely sister Kerry-Ann @ Reading A Little Bit Of Everything

Check out the full schedule for the blog tour here:

Below is the book Excerpt:

The gambler pulled back the hammer on his pistol. "You feel lucky now?"

Before Trace could reply, the saloon doors slammed open against the wooden walls and rattled on their hinges. Everyone's attention turned toward the creature that dragged itself forward on stiff legs, drooling blood. Its milky eyes scanned the room before it threw back its head, raised its arms, and growled toward the ceiling.

"That's Bill Johnson!" Miss Krissee called from the balcony above. She pulled a Derringer pistol from the garter encircling her leg and aimed it over the railing.

Trace looked up at Miss Krissee; dark ringlets fell over her bare shoulders and her lips were the color of cherries. Rumor had it nearly all the men in town had visited her at least once, though few admitted to it. Indeed, she was quite a looker, but Trace disregarded women who shared their wares so easily.

"Someone should go fetch the doc." A cowboy at the bar made the suggestion, but no one moved to do so.

"It's too late for that." Miss Krissee shook her head. "He's already dead. Just look at him."

Sunken features, decaying flesh and teeth that ground and snapped against themselves—Bill was dead all right. Sure, he walked around grunting, but that was only a technicality.

Zombie Bill lunged at the man closest to the door, ripped a chunk of flesh from the screaming man's neck, and howled as warm blood gurgled between his teeth.

"He's got it a'right!" someone yelled.

Beer bottles and whisky jugs exploded from ill-aimed bullets. Wood chips showered down from the rafters and the air filled with the metallic smell of gun smoke. Trace fired a shot or two of his own, but decided his best option was to find some sort of shelter—drunks made horrible shooters. He pushed the poker table over on its side and hunkered down behind it. It was better than nothing.

The old poker player crouched beside him. "Don't go thinking we're through just 'cause a zombie walked in here and stopped me from killing you."

Trace shook his head. "No, sir, I figured we were just having ourselves an intermission." He aimed his gun over the top of the table and watched Zombie Bill continue forward, his body riddled with bullet holes. The dead man wouldn't die.

"God, help us!" Slap Jack yelled from his safe position behind the bar. The bartender pointed his pistol at the zombie, his hands shaking from old age. Even in the best of circumstances, Slap Jack's aim proved dangerous, and Trace became more thankful for the thick wooden table every minute.

The saloon doors swung open once more and the apparition of a fiery angel wielding a sawed-off double-barrel shotgun appeared in the door frame. Her hair glowed in the evening sun, and the smoky room accentuated her ethereal presence. She took a couple of steps inside, spurs clinking against the wooden planks, and anchored two shells to the back of the zombie's skull. Once emptied, she tossed the shotgun aside, removed two pistols from the holsters on her hips, and fired them as well.

Where Bill's head used to be, nothing but fleshy, pink pulp on a broken stem remained. Mangled, he continued to stand on crooked legs, until the red-haired cowgirl lifted her boot and gave him a swift kick in the back. The zombie wobbled and tumbled over, more dead than it had been moments before.

"He bit me!" The poor man Bill had attacked withered on the floor, his hand pressed over his oozing neck and his eyes wild with fear. "He bit me!"

The angel with flaming red hair reloaded, aimed, and shot that man dead as well.

What do yous think?? Interested in reading it?

Make sure yous come back here on Monday 16 April where I will have a Character Profile from 'Red'!!

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