Spotlight: Invasion of the Undead by Samurai Dan Coglan #horror #zombies @CoglanDan @RoxanneRhoads

 

Invasion of the Undead

Death Stalker Chronicles 
Book One
Samurai Dan Coglan
 
Genre: Horror
Publisher: L’Oste Vineyard Press
Date of Publication: 5-28-2021
ISBN: 978-1-7353896-7-7
ASIN: B08XNS92W5
Number of pages: 242
Word Count: 60500
Book Description:
Former Marine Lance Corporal Chase Brooks fought the enemy in Afghanistan and lost his unit.
Now back in America, he fights to keep from losing his mind, as he is repeatedly attacked by the undead that he believes wiped out his men overseas.
Convinced that what he saw over there was real, he goes to war to wipe out the undead on American soil.
#samuaraidancoglanbooks #invasionoftheundead #deathstalkerchronicles #lostevineyardpress #horror #zombies #horrorbook #zombiebook
 

Excerpt

“Get those damn charges set, and let’s get out of here,” I growled into
my mic.  Shadows moved around me, and a turbaned face appeared out of the
murky darkness.  I shot the onrushing insurgent twice and looked around
for more.

“Come on, come on, come on,” I muttered.  “We’re past time for
evac.  Move your slow asses!” Lt. Rodriquez was suddenly at my side,
scowling.  “We’re doing the best we can, Corporal.  Hold on to your
hat.”

“Charges set, Lieutenant,” Stevens called out.  “That makes all
four; we can blow this popsicle stand!”

“About damn time,” I snapped.  “There are hostiles everywhere.
What the hell is this place, anyway?”

McGavin scoffed.  “It’s a temple, Brooks.  Remember? We had a
briefing and everything.”

“Screw you,” I told him.  “This ain’t like no temple that I’ve
ever seen.  And it smells like a fucking crypt.”

“No lie,” my buddy, Lance Corporal Jeremy Stevens, chimed in.  

“Marines,” Rodriquez barked.  “Let’s go.”

I led us back out, the six of us in tight formation.  Stevens was
on my left flank; Sgt. Bates was on my right, and the Lieutenant was in the
middle with the beady-eyed “guide” that the Colonel had stuck us with.
McGavin brought up the rear.

Dead bodies were everywhere; our ingress had come with a high body count.
I ignored them.

Two tours had made me immune to corpses. I had bigger priorities.

There was a commotion in front of us; heard but not seen.  Voices
cried out in excitement.  We froze.

Our position was suddenly hit with massive spotlights.  “We’ve been
cut off! Break left!” Rodriquez yelled as gunfire erupted all around us.
We returned fire, hot and heavy.
Being in front has its disadvantages.  I got hit three times, twice in the
chest and once in the leg.

My vest took the brunt of the two to the chest, but the leg shot really
sucked.  I went down but staggered back to my feet and kept fighting.

Stevens took over point; Lt. Rodriquez slid over to his spot and put me
in the middle with the guide, who looked scared out of his mind.  I didn’t
blame him.   

We raced through the gloom, moving downhill but not having a choice in the
matter.  McGavin took a round to the lower back and went down.  I
shouted, and the unit took up positions around our fallen comrade.  

We created a semi-circle facing back the way we’d come, weapons up and
ready.  There wasn’t long to wait.  The horde was on us quickly, the
heavy sound of their AK-47s threatening to overwhelm the sharper cracks of our
M-4s.  

It was over in less than sixty seconds, and to my amazement, we were
still standing.  There were bodies all around us, and the air was thick
with the smell of cordite.  Clouds of smoke from the gunfire obscured our
lights even further.
It was like being in hell, I thought, sweeping the area with my carbine.
Something flashed in my light, and I swung back.

There was a figure standing at the edge of the light.  It couldn’t
be a friendly, so I shot at it.  I missed, and it ducked behind a pile of
bodies.  The Lieutenant motioned, and Stevens and I went out to get
whoever it was.  

I’d taken maybe three steps when the figure reappeared, much closer.
I could tell it was a man, head and neck wrapped in a shemagh.  One
arm was holding a bundle, and the other was outstretched toward the ceiling.

His eyes were glowing red.  I blinked.  His eyes really were
glowing; it wasn’t goggles or an optical illusion.  Glowing or not, I knew
what my job was.  I put that head with glowing eyes in my sights and prepared
to pull the trigger.

Our guide, who’d been useless and paranoid the entire mission, started
screaming and babbling in complete gibberish.  The only part that I could
make out was something about Manziel or manzazu or some such nonsense, but his
outburst caught me off guard, and I missed my shot.
Suddenly there was movement all around us.  The bodies of the enemy
combatants were stirring.  Impossibly, they were staggering to their feet.
All around us, corpses were rising from the floor, their eyes shining a
baleful crimson.

“What the fuck?” Stevens shouted.  “This ain’t happening, man.”

I put a three-round burst into the chest of the corpse nearest me and
blew out his heart.  It didn’t seem to affect him at all; he just kept
shuffling toward me, his arms reaching out.  I shot him again, this time
doing the Mozambique technique that had been drilled into all Marines.
The two shots to the body didn’t do anything, but the follow-up round to
the head dropped it.
I could hear my unit screaming, cursing, and shooting the reanimated dead
bodies all around me.

 They were coming at us from every direction.  

We tightened our circle, trying to cover each other as we changed mags
and shifted targets.  It didn’t matter; they overwhelmed us. There were
just too many of them, and we couldn’t put them down fast enough.

I watched in horror as my best friend, Jeremy Stevens, was pulled down
by a mob of freaking zombies and torn apart.  Behind me, Lt. Rodriquez
screamed, and then his voice trailed off into a muffled gurgle, and I knew he
was gone, too.

My mag ran dry, and I reached for another, determined to keep fighting.
My fingers closed on air.  I was out.  The undead pressed in,
their hands clawing for me.  I swung the empty rifle like a club, trying
to clear a space.

The undead mob pulled the rifle from my hands, so I drew my Colt 1911
handgun.  It was a fine weapon, and I was good with it, but it only held
eight rounds.  Those eight rounds went quickly.

 When the pistol was empty, all sounds of gunfire ceased.

I was the last of the unit standing.  The zombies surrounded me.
To my right, two of the obscene things were eating my Sergeant.
Behind them, more were tearing our guide to pieces.
I spun to my left and saw what was left of Stevens.  Hands fastened onto
my vest, and I twisted away.  More grabbed hold of my legs, and I went
down.  

The zombies crowded around me.  Behind them, looking on, was the
man with the glowing eyes, triumph on his face.  He cackled with glee.

In desperation, I felt around for anything to use as a weapon.  My
hands reached above my head and found the remains of the Lieutenant.  His
head had been ripped off.  My hands shifted lower and found the detonator
on his belt for the explosive packages that we’d set.

I yanked it free and held it up.  The zombies were all over me,
and their leader was looking down at me, sneering.

“Fuck you,” I screamed and pushed the button.
There was a distant rumble, a pressure wave, and then the world collapsed
on me.




About the Author:

 
Dan Coglan, A.K.A. “Samurai Dan” is the acknowledged masters of marital… er, martial mayhem.  Dan travels the civilized portions of the U.S., bringing his unique show to curious and horrified audiences alike.
In addition to their high-energy, mostly safe stage shows (where razor-sharp blades and barbs fly),  Dan teaches historical and hysterical panels on the way of the warrior.  Offering a wide range of lectures and interactive workshops, Dan provides joy and laughs wherever he goes.
Due to a supreme lack of filter, Dan also performs standup comedy in censored and uncensored settings.  A storyteller at heart, Dan is releasing his first book in his Deathstalker Chronicle Series:  Invasion of the Undead.
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Drop Dead Sexy by Kiernan Kelly #Zombies #RomCom

The dead have arisen, and all they want is their old lives back. Can love eternal exist for those who are dead but not gone? It takes a brave zombie to find out.

As Serious as the Grave: Tyler was only dead for a couple of hours before he reanimated, and he’s still handsome and drop dead sexy. What makes his unnatural life worth living? Daniel, a big hunk who just might be the special person Tyler’s spent his life looking for. Will his chance for a lifetime of love with Daniel be taken away before they even get started?

Lights, Camera, Zombies! Jericho’s never been one to shy away from the facts of life… and death… and re-life. Not everyone gets the memo that Zombies are humans with rights, however. When his life is threatened on the set of a new movie, Jericho and his lover, Dex, must decide which is more important, their Zombie pride or their lives.

Destination Dead: When Cal and Holden open Afterlife, a tropical island resort for zombies, not everyone is thrilled. Guests begin to arrive for the grand opening, and trouble arrives with them. It’s a race against time for Cal and Holden to find and stop whoever is trying to destroy their resort and send them back into their graves for good.

Publisher’s Note: Drop Dead Sexy contains the previously published novellas As Serious as the Grave, Lights, Camera, Zombies! and Destination Dead.

Available Today at Changeling Press

Also in Paperback

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kiernan’s stories of gay romance envelop diverse themes ranging from paranormal to fantasy, and science fiction to contemporary romance. She has fifteen novels currently in print and ebook, and over eighty shorter works available in both mediums. Contrary to popular opinion, she is not a zombie. Yet.

Release Blitz: The Island by M. Rose Flores #LGBTQIA+ #zombies

Title: The Island

Series: Abnormal/Variant, Book Two

Author: M. Rose Flores

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: May 4, 2020

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 86300

Genre: Horror/Thriller, LGBTQIA+, YA, PNR, bisexual, dark, horror, zombies/undead, postapocalyptic, family drama, found family, San Francisco, Alcatraz

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Synopsis

Two years after the end of the world, Cate and Marco have finally found a place for their people to start over. Sustainable and safe from zombies, the island is everything they hoped it would be. It seems the worst may finally be over; they can stop surviving and begin to live again. But the arrival of two new people sets in motion a chain of events that throw the island into unrest, and Cate must fight for her love, her people, and her sense of self. Can the inhabitants of Alcatraz Island find a way to come together when everything around them is falling apart?

Almost two years before their arrival on the island, just after the event that ripped their family apart, Marco began an aimless journey. With his foster family gone—some dead, some vanished—once again, Marco was on his own and sure it was for the best; other people only slowed you down, ended up as liabilities, or worse. Alone was good. It was what he was used to. But on his journey south, he collected other wanderers and began to consider the idea of a cooperative group or, maybe, a found family. There was, after all, safety in numbers.

Finally, together on the island, everyone assumes they are safe. But assumptions in a world run by zombies can be dangerous. Deadly. There is something going on in the city, terrifying and unnatural. Something that will change everything they think they know about zombies. And it’s coming to the island.

The Island is not a stand-alone. It’s advised that book one, The End, be read first.

Excerpt

The Island
M. Rose Flores © 2020
All Rights Reserved

Cate

Those are not people. The way they move, the fact that when we wave, they don’t wave back, and the way they are all shambling toward us down the paths to either side. It all collectively spells zombie.

“Hello,” calls Calvin.

No answer. Damn it.

None of us has the energy to fight any more. We spent the whole night fighting to get to the island. We watched our people get maimed and die; Calvin’s Nana Mae sacrificed herself to save him, my sister Mel, and their new babies. Five other people died too, though I didn’t know any of them well. They were all Marco’s people. Now we’re all one another’s people. What a way to make a family.

Toby is looking pale. His younger brother Jax, though much smaller than Toby, is doing his best to keep him upright. The place where Toby’s hand used to be, before it was clawed by an Abnormal zombie and then cut off by me to prevent infection, is wrapped in a bandage from what I’m guessing is a very limited supply. I think everything is probably limited. There wasn’t much time to pack or prepare after Mel’s labor screams drew in the horde last night. It’s not her fault. Birthing twins with nothing stronger than ibuprofen must be agony. But we had to leave in a hurry. We made it all the way to Alcatraz, barely. And now, apparently, we have to fight again.

I’m too exhausted to cry. We are broken, for the second time since this all started. It’s cold and drizzling. There’s a thick fog rolling in. At least it isn’t dark anymore.

“What do we do?” asks Sylvia, holding her kids close to her body.

“Same thing we’ve been doing,” answers Marco.

When he doesn’t offer anything else, Calvin steps in. “We should get the injured and the kids somewhere safe, right?”

Marco nods.

“They’re still far enough we can probably slip by them on that road—” Calvin points to the right. “—and come back out once you’re all safe inside. Shouldn’t take long to clear the island; there don’t seem to be many here.”

“It’s a big island,” says Marco. “There will be a lot more up there than you think.”

“Can’t say I’ll be much use,” says Captain Jacob, stepping forward through the group. He’s cradling his arm. I can guess what comes next: He edges his sleeve up, wincing, to reveal a definite bite near his elbow. The veins around it are black, all the way up and down his arm, peeking over the collar of his shirt.

“Captain,” breathes Amy, our doctor, “why didn’t you say something?”

“Call me Jacob; I told you. I knew it wouldn’t do any good. Happened so fast. Had to get us here either way.”

Amy examines the wound, touches his arm where the veins disappear under his sleeve. “There’s no way this hasn’t reached a main vessel by now,” she says, feeling his face for fever and shaking her head. “I’m so sorry, Jacob.”

“I appreciate it, Amy. But there’s no need. I’ll have to show someone how to drive the ferry. Murray?”

“Of course, Jacob.”

“It has been an honor to know all of you,” Jacob says. “Marco, you take care of these people. You got us this far. Soon you’ll all be safe.”

“I’m sorry, Jacob,” says Marco, who looks on the verge of tears.

“Don’t be. I did my part. I can live with the result. Or, I guess I can’t.” He chuckles at his own dark joke, but it turns into a coughing fit that makes his whole body tremble. “Come on, now, Murray. We haven’t got all day.”

Murray follows Jacob, catching him as he stumbles getting back on the boat. Jacob looks back and lifts a hand in goodbye to all of us. He doesn’t have long. Another family member lost, claimed by the infection.

“We should go,” says Ana, ever the stoic. “They’re getting closer.”

We move up the wider path as quickly as we can, although every one of us is exhausted and several of us are in some way incapacitated, so we’re not as fast as we need to be. The path switches back and forth as it ascends.

“Stay together,” Calvin whispers as the first few zombies notice us.

We do as we did last night, shuffling the less capable into the middle of our huddle as we move. However, now, so many more of us can’t fight than can. When the zombies get to us, we are less efficient than we have ever been. It takes me two hits to take down one zombie, even though I sharpened my axe the other day, and I have to put my boot on its head to get the axe back. I haven’t had to do that in ages. Calvin gets one on the first try, but it takes him a second to pull his knife free. Somehow, we escape. But just up the path, more swarm toward us. Not many, but there are always more.

Purchase

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Meet the Author

M. Rose Flores has enjoyed writing since she learned how to string letters together. She grew up in the vast green Pacific Northwest of the United States, which with its dense forests, four seasons, and proximity to the ocean made a perfect setting for The End. When she isn’t writing on her computer or in a notebook (though scraps of paper and the palm of her hand will do in a pinch), she works as a professional dog trainer and loves every part of it, even the copious amounts of drool. She believes everyone should be represented in literature and all other media. The End is her first novel.

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Drop Dead Sexy by Kiernan Kelly #PNR #RomCom #GayRomance #LGBT #Zombies @changelingpress @KiernanKelly

Can love eternal exist for those who are dead but not gone?
It takes a brave zombie to find out.

 

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Paranormal, Zombies, Romantic Comedy, Gay

 

The dead have arisen, and all they want is their old lives back. Can love eternal exist for those who are dead but not gone? It takes a brave zombie to find out.

As Serious as the Grave: Tyler was only dead for a couple of hours before he reanimated, and he’s still handsome and drop dead sexy. What makes his unnatural life worth living? Daniel, a big hunk who just might be the special person Tyler’s spent his life looking for. Will his chance for a lifetime of love with Daniel be taken away before they even get started?

Lights, Camera, Zombies! Jericho’s never been one to shy away from the facts of life… and death… and re-life. Not everyone gets the memo that Zombies are humans with rights, however. When his life is threatened on the set of a new movie, Jericho and his lover, Dex, must decide which is more important, their Zombie pride or their lives.

Publisher’s Note: Drop Dead Sexy (Duet) contains the previously published novellas Serious As the Grave and Lights, Camera, Zombie by Kiernan Kelly.

 

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Kiernan Kelly
Excerpt from As Serious as the Grave

“Payday,” a voice called. The wall of Tyler’s cubicle shuddered as the mailroom clerk, a skinny intern with bad skin and a prominent Adam’s apple, banged his fist against it.

Tyler accepted his paycheck, noticing that the kid’s hand was shaking. No matter how long it had been since the undead had rejoined the ranks of the living, some folks were still gun shy about having to interact with them. “Thanks, Steven,” he said, smiling.

Steven nodded curtly, quickly backing out of the office. Tyler watched the mail cart zip by the door to his cubicle, and shook his head. The kid had worked for the company for nearly six months, but Tyler still scared the shit of out him. If Tyler frightened him, he wondered how Steven dealt with someone like Will Fenton, who looked like a Rob Zombie wet dream.

Turning his attention back to the computer monitor that glowed on his desk, Tyler typed in a string of numbers in rapid succession, and hit “print.” The printer whirred and began spitting out the pages of the report.

“Hey, Tyler, ready to go?”

Looking up, Tyler saw Daniel Norris’ bright blue, bespectacled eyes blinking at him from over the edge of the cubicle wall. A lock of his curling, thick black hair fell over his forehead, giving him a distinctly Clark Kent-ish look.

“Be ready in a minute. Need to get the VanHilton report to Barry before I can leave. He’s been yammering for it all afternoon.”

“The meeting with the VanHilton people isn’t until the end of next week! Barry’s just busting your balls, Tyler. Quitting time is five o’clock, and the fucking jack-off knows it. I swear, the man’s asshole must weep with envy over the amount of shit that comes out of his mouth.”

Tyler laughed, nodding his head. “I know it. But it’s printing now. I’ll be ready in a minute.”

“Well, hurry up. There’s a pitcher of Bud with our names on it waiting for us down at The Pit.”

“We don’t have to go to The Pit again, Daniel.”

“We always go to The Pit. It’s traditional on Friday nights.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, The Pit is a gay bar, Danny, and you’re straight, remember? Why do you want to hang out there? We could go to the Ale House instead,” Tyler offered.

“Because you need to get laid. Just hurry up, will you? It gets crowded in there on Friday nights. I want to get there before we end up standing in a corner holding up the walls. I’ll meet you in the garage.” Daniel’s head disappeared behind the cubicle wall, and Tyler shook his head, watching Daniel’s shadow ghost behind the opaque glass as he walked away.

Scooping up the pages of the report, Tyler stapled them together neatly. Powering down his computer, he quickly cleaned off his desk. Slipping on his leather jacket, he left his cubicle, depositing the report in Barry’s inbox on his way out of the office.

Barry, Tyler noticed, had already left for the night. Guess the world wasn’t going to end if he didn’t have the report in his fat sausage fingers before five after all, Tyler thought wryly. Not that Tyler had ever believed otherwise. Daniel was right — Barry was an asshole.

“Night, Will,” Tyler called as he passed cubicle 17. A line of cardboard evergreen air fresheners had been strung across the cubicle wall, poor defense against the odor that clung to it in a nearly visible cloud. Will was a sweet guy, but none too fresh.

Will’s answer was his normal sludgy, wet grunt. Poor guy – it was hard to be articulate when you didn’t have lips and your larynx resembled Swiss cheese.

Making his way out to the parking garage, Tyler felt a pang of loss as he passed between the rows of shiny sedans and SUV’s. His own less-than-gently-used Chevy had finally died for good less than a month ago, and unlike its owner, there was no hope of resurrection for it. He hadn’t yet found a suitable replacement that was decent and still within his means. Since its untimely death at just over 225,000 miles, he’d been carpooling with Daniel.

Not for the first time since his reawakening, Tyler thanked whatever Powers watched over fools and dead men for Daniel Norris. He’d been Tyler’s best friend for years before Tyler had died, and had blithely continued their relationship afterward, as if there hadn’t been twelve hours in between when Tyler had been stiffer than a monk’s erection.

A slightly tinny horn sounded, hurrying Tyler to Daniel’s dark blue Honda. He tossed his briefcase into the trunk before folding his six-foot frame into the passenger side bucket seat. No sooner had he clicked in his seatbelt than Daniel had the car in motion, heading toward The Pit.

 

MORE BOOKS BY KIERNAN KELLY

Kiernan’s stories of gay romance envelop diverse themes ranging from paranormal to fantasy, and science fiction to contemporary romance. She has fifteen novels currently in print and ebook, and over eighty shorter works available in both mediums. Contrary to popular opinion, she is not a zombie. Yet.