Available at Amazon / Changeling Press / ARE / Barnes and Noble
Coralee Bradley is proud to be the only veterinarian in the small town of Davis, Wisconsin. The picturesque community sits nestled in the river valley surrounded by lush wooded bluffs. Everything about Davis is tranquil except for one thing -- zombies. Coralee finds herself battling for her life against the same people she called neighbors seventy-two hours earlier.
Sergeant Jordan Parks invades Cora's private domain after his black ops zombie fighting unit is overrun by the horde. Injured, he seeks refuge with an angelic redhead. When she suddenly becomes a threat to their safety there's only one thing he can do -- make love to her.
Cora has never seen a better looking man, but it's just her luck to find him when the world is going crazy and certain death waits outside. Jordan soothes her fear using his buff body to bring her to heights of pleasure she'd never imagined possible. One night of end-of-the-world sex will never be enough, but can they survive long enough for another roll in the hay? Cora only knows one thing -- zombies sure as hell don't make good pets.
The shooting outside stopped. She waited. Taking a deep breath, Cora stood up and checked the window again. The tank in the center of town had stopped its slow progression. A wave of the hungry undead surged over the metallic behemoth. She hoped whoever was operating it was still alive. When she'd first seen the National Guard roll into town she'd thought she'd been saved, but looking out at the overturned jeeps, bodies, and abandoned weapons, she knew salvation wasn't going to be that simple.
A clatter echoed in the back of the clinic. Cora gasped. Her hands were shaking as she picked up her bag. She reached into the top drawer where she kept her emergency tranquilizer gun. She'd never had to use it on an unruly patient, but now she wondered how well the drug would work on an animated corpse. Shivering, she slowly crept back towards her small operating room. Turning the corner, she passed the storage closet and finally her hand touched the knob to the back room. She hoped that feral cat hadn't escaped. Cautiously she turned the knob and peeked inside.
A tall man in a uniform was going through her supply bins. She couldn't see his face, so she couldn't tell if he was one of them. A desperate breath escaped her and she bit her lip. Here goes nothing. Cora threw open the door and dropped her bag. She raised the gun, ready to fire at the interloper.
He turned. She saw blood running down his forehead. The intruder's eyes were wide and framed with thick black lashes, and they were clear, not the milky white of death.
Cora let go of the breath she'd been holding and lowered her weapon. "You scared the shit out of me," she said.
He raised his pistol.
"Whoa, just hang the hell on. You're in my clinic," she shouted. Her knees wobbled. This was just too much. Don't get weepy! She tried to obey her inner voice, but her lip trembled.
"Were you bitten?" He had one of those deep, radio perfect voices. There was a seductive resonance in his tone. He was handsome, movie star hot, and it wasn't just the uniform. The man had well-proportioned classical features. His eyes were shadowed with fatigue, but they were the most startling shade of green. Perfection. She almost felt the heat radiating off him and his six-pack abs.
What is wrong with me? He's pointing a gun at me and today is mostly likely the first day of the apocalypse. Why am I so fixated on his total sex-a-lusciousness?
"Were. You. Bitten?" he repeated in annoyance.
"No," she replied, scowling.
He lowered his gun. "I think you and I may be the last."
At first, she didn't understand what he meant, and then the horrific understanding dawned on her. "The last?" she squeaked out. The idea everyone she'd ever known was dead or -- worse, undead -- squeezed her heart with almost unbearable pain. "Are there reinforcements coming?"
"Don't think so." He returned to his search and spoke without looking at her.
"We need to get out of town!" Cora said as she pulled her bag higher on her shoulder. She'd waited too long. She should've run sooner, but she'd been waiting for her sister.
"The tank was no match for those things. I seriously doubt we'd be able to get past the bastards on foot."
His harsh assessment put a glare on her face. "Hey, those bastards used to be my friends and neighbors." Cora's voice rose as she reminded him to show respect.
"Sorry," he muttered gruffly, but she didn't hear remorse in his tone. His pupils appeared dilated. She realized her only hope looked like he was ready to fall over.
"Sit down. Let me take care of your head."
He must have been looking for some bandages. He'd come to the right place. He sat while she grabbed what she needed. "What happened?"
"I was dodging a few of the infected bastards when I had to scale a fence and duck under a sign. I hit my head."
"You didn't touch your cut after touching the infected? Or let one of them touch your wound?" Cora asked with concern. She had no idea how this spread, but an open gash seemed like an invitation for infection.
"No. I don't think so."
"Well, that's good. Hold still. This might sting."
"Damn," he spat out as she wiped at the gash with an antiseptic covered pad.
"So are you the only doctor in town?"
Cora grinned. It felt strange to be standing there smiling when all hell was breaking loose a few feet away. "No. I'm the town vet. Davis is too small to support its own human clinic. We don't have a doctor. I make many house calls to local farms. You're the first human patient I've seen in this office, but I don't think you have the luxury of being picky."
He grunted, but didn't tell her to stop. She finished wrapping his wound. His hand was bleeding and she cleaned and wrapped that too.
"I'm Cora. Dr. Coralee Bradley."
"Jordan Parks," he said. She already knew part of that -- Parks was embroidered on a patch on the right side of his chest. The other side said US ARMY. She hoped he was wrong and there were reinforcements on the way.
"So what's going to happen now? What do we do?"
Zombies Don't Know When to Knock
Coming November 15th, 2013 from Changeling Press
Emily Bradley has saved her sister's skinny ass from zombies. She has survived when almost everyone she knows is dead. Now PFC Jordan Parks, her sister Coralee's apocalyptic squeeze, has led them into a situation filled with chaos and death at Fort McCoy. It's time for Plan B.
Emily finds herself on her own, running from a group of mindless, flesh eating zombies, until two very hot and still very much alive men come to her rescue. Yankee and Thad are just what the Dr. ordered. Emily wants to give her rescuers a proper thank you. The men are good with their... manly weapons... and not just when while fight zombies. Emily can't think of a more stress reliving way to show her appreciation than to get naked with her handsome heroes!
Ashlynn Monroe is a busy working mom. She loves her kids and family. Her greatest joy is creating stories to entertain others, and she hopes they bring a little more romance into the world. She's been writing since her teens for her own enjoyment but decided in her thirties to share her imagination with readers. Ashlynn enjoys biking, camping, reading, video games, and filling her home and life with love. If she's not working or chasing children, you can find her daydreaming up her next tale of romance.
http://www.facebook.com/AshlynnMonroeAuthor http://twitter.com/#!/ashlynn_monroe http://www.kindlegraph.com/authors/ashlynn_monroe
Giveaway: 1 eBook copy of "Zombies Don't Make Good Pets"
Fill out the raffelcopter below in order to be entered.