Mad Lib, Short Story & Giveaway! The Revenant by Elise Abram #zOctober2014

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the revenant

The Revenant
by Elise Abram
Publication date: July 10th 2014
Category: YA
Genre: Urban fantasy, Zombies

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He wears neither cape nor cowl, but Zulu is a superhero, nevertheless.

Raised from the dead as a revenant more than a hundred years ago, Zulu possesses Spiderman’s stealth, Superman’s speed, and Batman’s keen intellect. His only companion is Morgan the Seer, an old man cursed with longevity and the ability to see the future in his dreams. Zulu has spent the last century training with Morgan in order to save the people in his nightmares from certain and violent death. Branded a vigilante by the Media, Zulu must live his life in the shadows, travelling by night or in the city’s underground unless his quest demands otherwise.

Kat is an empath, someone who sees emotions as colourful auras. Relentlessly bullied by her peers, and believing her life amounts to nothing but a huge cosmic mistake, she finds purpose in her abilities when she is recruited to help Zulu and Morgan complete their missions.

Malchus is Morgan’s long dead twin brother. A powerful necromancer, Malchus manages to find a way to return to the living, and he has a score to settle with Morgan. Believing Morgan responsible for his death and out to seek revenge, Malchus begins to raise an army of undead minions and use them to hunt Morgan down. As Malchus closes in on Morgan and his charges, the trio soon realizes the people most in need of saving are themselves.


How to Survive a Zombie Attack Mad Lib

Mad:)Takes - free online Mad Libs™
How to Survive a Zombie Attack
A NOUN
A PLURAL NOUN
A PLURAL NOUN
GROUPING OF PEOPLE – PLURAL
A LIQUID
A FOOD
A VERB
A PLURAL NOUN
A MEASUREMENT OF TIME
A PLURAL ANIMAL
A CONTAINER
AN ITEM OF CLOTHING
A MUSICAL INSTRUMENT
A WEAPON
A BODY PART
A WEAPON – SAME AS ABOVE
A SHELTER
A VERB


~Short Story~

The Circle of Life
by
Elise Abram

Bob clawed through the dirt that covered him. At last his hand broke through and sunlight warmed his cold flesh. Bob flexed his muscles, relishing the moment. Not enough time had passed for him to forget what it was like to feel prisoner in his own body, to be unable to move, his mind calling out to someone, anyone, to acknowledge his presence. To try everything he knew how to let the world know he was still there, still alive somewhere inside all that flesh and bone.
He lifted his body from the cavern into which it had been buried. More memories came flooding back to his rusty brain. The rave. The dance. The lights. The sound. The Ecstasy. The music, drumbeat melting, chords congealing, synths spitting…The Man in Black came from nowhere. His lips were painted blood red. They unfurled to form a huge grin, and reveal a series of teeth tapered to points. His bifurcated tongue slithered out to moisten his lower lip. Paralysed at the sight, Bob could only muster the occasional blink. He watched, dumbly, as the man raised an open palm to his mouth and blew a fine mist of powder at him. Coughs wracked Bob’s body, doubling it over. When the hacking subsided, the Man in Black was gone. What happened between then and the moment when Bob had awoken, seemingly buried alive, had all but faded from memory.
A car whizzed past on the paved highway behind him. Bob spun a half-pirouette. His rubber legs tangled beneath him and his head hit the ground with a hollow thump. An old pickup backfired as it passed. Bob propped his upper body on his arms, raising his head above the tall grass just enough to watch it recede into the distance.
He worked his way to his feet and took a step toward the sound of tires on blacktop, trying to set one foot in front of the other, barely able to lift his right above the tall grass before his left threatened to buckle. No sooner had his right foot found purchase on loamy soil when his left took flight, propelled by momentum alone.
Midway to the road, his stomach rumbled. A bird chirped behind him. The churning in his belly intensified. Bob did another about face and headed back toward the tree in search of the only thing that mattered: food. He had taken a few shambling steps back along his original path when a truck jumped the shoulder at the side of the highway, cutting a wide swath through the grass as it charged toward him.
Bob felt drawn to the noise, further attracted to the flock of gulls it sent to flight, and resumed his shuffling gait toward it. By the time he met the truck his hunger had grown ravenous. He looked into the cab of the truck to find the Man in Black from the rave. Before his rotting brain was able to make this connection, the man forced the door open, batting Bob out of the way. He climbed out of the truck, faded lips pressed into a semblance of a grin.
Food! Bob’s stomach and mind shouted in choral refrain. Must eat, they cried in broken harmony.
The man stepped from behind the truck door. Bob pounced, arms outstretched, hoping to use the weight of his body to pin the man between himself and the truck, crack his skull and feast, but the man caught Bob’s wrists with his hands, and held him at bay.
Bob felt hunger blaze in his belly. He set his sights on the man’s jugular. He got near enough to smell coffee on his breath before the man’s brick made contact with the side of Bob’s head. Bob went down. He blinked, eyes focussing on the grass in front of him and the loamy soil beneath. Then Bob felt himself lifted as if weightless, carried as if flying, and tossed as if rotting garbage into the bed of the truck.
The man looped a chain, first around Bob’s left foot and then around his right, and secured both to the bed of the truck.
Bob ‘s stomach roared. Feed me! his fetid soul cried.
Bob could smell the man, acrid and spicy on the surface, sinew and salty on the inside.
Meat! his appetite yearned.
The man swung the chain around Bob’s right wrist. Bob pounced. His teeth sunk into the flesh of the man’s neck. Bob tasted blood. He pulled away and bit once more. Tearing at the skin beneath the man’s ear, he pulled a piece free from the bone, and chewed.
The man screamed. He tried to hold Bob off, to keep his teeth at bay by planting a palm on Bob’s forehead. Bob grabbed at the man’s midsection, pulled him as close as he could, and gorged on the meat of his stomach.
The man beat against Bob’s back for a moment or two before his life slipped from him.
Bob’s teeth jerked toward the man again, missed their target, and jerked again. The action set the man’s body to motion and it rolled from the bed of the truck and onto the grass below.
Freshly ignited, Bob’s bloodlust demanded more. His belly complained. Bob roared. He struggled against his chains but they held fast. He lay back against the metal of the truck bed feeling his hunger grow.
The first carrion landed less than an hour later. It perched on Bob’s chest and pecked at his hand. Famished beyond starvation, Bob lunged for it. The bird fluttered its wings and re-lit on Bob’s chest. Its beak picked off one of Bob’s shirt buttons and then pecked at the fetid flesh beneath the gaping cloth. It stopped, once, briefly, to caw, and then continued ravaging Bob’s remains.


~About the Author~

elise abram

Teacher of English and Computer Studies by day, wife and mother by night and author whenever she can steal some time, Elise is the proud author of Phase Shift, The Mummy Wore Combat Boots, and Throwaway Child. She pens a blog about literature, popular culture and the human condition whenever the muse moves her.

Elise’s fourth book, a young adult paranormal thriller entitled The Revenant is now available on Amazon, Barnes and Nobel and wherever books are sold online.

Elise’s Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads


~Giveaway~

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Wife, mother, blogger, author, gamer, and a lover of the culinary arts. Toni lives in Michigan with her husband and four children. If she's not writing or curled up with a book, you'll most likely find her playing with her kids, baking cupcakes, or killing zombies.
  • I have read a few books about them. My thoughts- it would be an awesome ability in the event of a zombie or vampire outbreak. I would want to totally make friends with one on the side of good!! <3

  • Jeremy Hunt

    I like their powers.

  • Pheebz Petenstine

    It would be interesting to be able to have the dead do your bidding.

  • Nastasia Alexandria Nazar

    Very Cool!

  • marypreston

    Necromancers freak me out – yay!!

  • Laura Wilson-Farmer

    One of my absolute favorite literary characters, Anita Blake is a Necromancer, love them.

  • They’re awesome!!!

  • Joani S

    Well, depends on the story. If they are doing evil, then I would want nothing to do with them, but it does add spice to the story, but if there was a good purpose behind it, then count me in!! 🙂