by Olivia Starke
I admit it, I’m a great big kid at heart, who never quite gave up on make believe. What a dull world it’d be if I’d given up the fanciful imagination I grew up with. That’s why I fell in love with writing at a young age, I could give a voice to my imaginary friends who were as real as the real ones I had.
As an adult, I’ve retained this ability to create friends from thin air, ones who’ll entertain me. One’s who never leave me bored, or lonely. And the fun part is that I now get to share them with others in hopes that they, too, will see their magic. This is what authors strive for, I think, to share their imaginary friends with everyone. Sure, we want to tell a story, but more than anything we want you to relate to those fictitious people the same way we do. Sometimes those friends go bad, but we gave birth to them, so we want you to see why they turned bad. Sometimes they are completely loveable, and we need you to love them, too.
|Buy Zombie Lovin' HERE|
Dating a dead guy would be complicated and complications were one thing she liked to avoid...
Samantha Perry expected a fun weekend in Vegas, what she didn’t expect is the hottie she wakes up next to after a wild night of drinking. Tall, blue-eyed, and all American, Jake is the epitome of male virility—give or take the fact he lacks a heartbeat. But sometimes even the living impaired need a little lovin’.
And Jake has a big surprise in store for Samantha…
Some days it doesn’t pay to get out of bed, especially if you wake up with a corpse.
Her new companion had been the most watched man in the club, and Samantha Perry couldn’t help the sense of conquest when they stumbled into her hotel room. The room swayed and she had to clutch his shirt to stay on her feet.
“Watch out, baby.” His husky whisper brushed her ear, sending chills down her spine. “I think you’re a little drunk.”
She giggled. “You try walking in four-inch stilettos. I can barely manage these on the best of days.”
He chuckled. “Fair enough, but damn they’re sexy.”
Her hair clung around her shoulders, her blouse and jeans still damp. “How did I get so wet?” Her foggy memory offered no explanations.
“Such open ended questions you ask.” He captured her lips in a hot, distracting kiss. “So many answers I could give.”
He tugged the blouse over her head, pitched it aside, and placed his hands on her shoulders giving a gentle shove. She squealed, but luckily bounced, the bed breaking her fall.
She studied him, or tried to—her focus was a little off. “So what was it you were saying earlier, about the living dead something or other?”
Tugging her jeans off, he tossed them over his shoulder, drawing yet another giggle from Samantha. He gave her a lopsided grin. “You mean living while dead? We’ll have this discussion, but later.” He kissed her, his tongue pushing into her mouth, teasing her with short thrusts. “And I mean much, much later.”