The Dead Have Ruled the Earth for 200 Years

The new book by Noah Mullette-Gillman is out today.  I’ve decided to post the blurb and a teaser for fun.

Two hundred years after  humanity was forced to abandon Earth to the zombie hordes, three humans  descend in great armored battle-suits into a world populated only by the ravenous and rotting undead. They will gun down as many hundreds and  thousands of the monsters as necessary in their fight to retrieve the  most important possession we left behind.

Too bad one of them is an idiot.

The Dead Have Ruled Earth for 200 Years is not a love story. It is not a  work of spiritual mythology. It is bleeding and biting, cutting and  explosions; a written rocket of death and disfigurement, with all  humanity’s future at stake. Get ready for a white-knuckled descent into  the worst of all possible nightmares. Two centuries after the end of the world, it may be the last story of humanity’s battle to survive.

And here’s an excerpt from “The Dead Have Ruled the Earth for 200 Years.”

A howl announced their arrival. The heralding scream continued on and on, longer than most people would have been able to hold the note. As the monster screamed, infected began pouring into the room. Some of them came from the doors above, a few from the portal they had used to come into the entryway. The two groups arrived simultaneously, almost as if they had been choreographed.

A man and a woman stumbled their way forward, attached at their skulls like conjoined babies. She looked to have been in her late forties, and he was perhaps eighteen or nineteen. The side of his head was bleeding near her mouth, almost of if she had been trying to slowly gnaw herself free.

A large Hispanic man burst though the upstairs door. His left arm was completely missing. Black char was visible just above his elbow, suggesting that it had been burned away. He wore a New York Yankees T-shirt.

Behind him was another man. This one’s face was almost entirely covered with scabs. One of his eyes looked shut by the swelling and crusting, the other was only half-open. For some reason, he carried a potted plant, which he held to his chest as if trying to protect it.

The face of another woman was visible just behind him. Her teeth were out. Her eyes were red and the muscles of her face were twisted and contorted with a shaking and furious anger.

Dix readied his walking stick, as another three of the monsters came rushing in from the door on the ground level.

Catherine took out her knife and moved closer to Dix. He suddenly looked very vulnerable and unprotected without a shirt on. All of that pink and perfect flesh was just waiting for one of the infected to bite down upon it.

He crashed the silver handle of his walking stick down across the forehead of a skinny man with long brown hair and a black beard. The thing’s brow burst red and he fell down.

Dix turned and jabbed the end of the stick into the stomach of a woman with filthy blonde hair. One of her front teeth was missing. A tattoo of a bird was half-visible above her torn shirt. Dix turned and hammered his fist into the side of her mouth, and then brought the silver end of the stick down like thunder against her nose and eyes.

Catherine hesitated, watching the monsters storm in from both doors. She adjusted her hold on the knife.

The conjoined couple looked like they might fall over one another on their way down the staircase, but at the last moment the man grabbed ahold of the handrail and righted them.

The scabbed man with the potted plant almost leapt over the pair on his way down. He was looking at Dix. Catherine gritted her teeth and got herself ready.

The first man whom Dix had knocked down began reaching for Dix’s leg. The space-man growled like a dog and put his foot down on the zombie’s head. He then kicked his victim twice in the face, knocking the monster back. As he did so, two more undead raced through and grabbed him by the arms. One of them bared her teeth and began to move her face towards his arm.

Shouting out something like, “Naw,”Catherine jumped up and hit the one on Dix’s right arm with her knife. She didn’t strike hard enough to break through, but she smacked the creature in the side of the head, which knocked it a short distance further away from Dix.

Dix grabbed the one Catherine had hit and threw it at the man on his left, causing them both to fall back, tumbling over each other’s bodies.

By then, the diseased man with the potted plant was upon them.

Without thinking, Catherine grabbed the edge of the pot and cast it to the side, spilling the dirt across the hospital floor, as she jabbed the knife under his ribcage and right into his heart. She retrieved her hand and noted the dark red paint which now covered it. She had been thinking about a special she’d seen in which Aztec priests had used to kill their sacrifices with a single strike under the ribs, but she never imagined she could actually do it herself.

Catherine looked down and saw just a hint of shining metal where her weapon had become enveloped inside of her victim’s body cavity.

She looked up and saw the angry zombie with teeth flashing, only a few inches from her face. The monster was shouting and cursing at her in the meaningless language of the dead.

Without asking her opinion, Catherine’s nails pulled her hands up and wrapped themselves against the monster’s throat. She cracked the woman’s skull on the hard marble tiles.

As she stood again, she watched Dix, now on the landing above, swinging his stick against the faces of the dead above her.

You can find the full story on Amazon at



Zombie Love Boat, Shiny and New

So, it’s been a while since I blogged, because that’s how I roll–tardy.  Oh well.  I was on “vacation” recently so that is my excuse for not blogging in the past week.  Don’t ask about the month or so before that.

Anyhoo, I’m here to post some exciting updates…

1.  My story about killer wasps “It Sticks With You,” recently got accepted into Crooked Cat’s charity antho “Fear” due out some time around All Hallows’ Eve.  Fantastic.  Proceeds go to Doctors Without Borders and Barnardo’s (aiding at-risk children in the UK)

2.  My zombie bacon and longpork, AKA zombie cannibalism, story entitled “The Smokehouse” was chosen for Knightwatch Press’ up-coming anthology.  The book will also contain a modified version of my pulled pork recipe.  You can guess what kind of meat it calls for.  Hope you have a big crock pot. 🙂

This book is sponsored by the Zombie Fiend website.  It’s an active forum for lovers of all things zombie.  If you enjoy discussing weapon choices for the zombie apocalypse, or if you are planting a killer veggie garden for the end times and need a little advise, swing on over.  The folks there would love to have you (for dinner).  Just a little cheesy cannibalism humor, there.  Everything tastes better with cheese.  Sorry.

By the way, this is the one I get a t-shirt for.  Score!

3.  Winter is coming.  So is fall.  Soon the little chicks in my roost will fly off to school and maybe, just maybe, I’ll blog more frequently.

4.  We all know that is a bold-faced lie.

Thanks for stopping in.  Come back real soon, will ya?


Interview with Horror Author Rebecca Besser

This week I interviewed the lovely Rebecca Besser.

Isn’t she cute?  Here’s what she had to say about her inspiration, writing process, and upcoming work…

1.     What would you say was the defining influence (author/book/movie/family member, etc.) that pointed you toward horror?


Experimentation. I force myself to try things I haven’t tried before, or am leery of. When I stared writing a few years ago, I was nervous about writing in first person, so I forced myself to try it only to find out that it wasn’t so bad. After that, I was determined to try various genres – horror seemed to be a good fit for me and it stuck! LOL I still write other things, but not as often.


2.     What was your inspiration for Nurse Blood?


Justin T. Coons’ amazing art! The cover art inspired the story.


3.     What is your gory main character, Sonya Garret’s favorite tool of the organ-harvesting trade and why?


Graphic representation of the live organ harvests

Graphic representation of the live organ harvests (Photo credit: longtrekhome)


She uses a surgical scalpel a couple times to inflict harm in the book, so I’ll have to go with that. When harvesting human parts, nothing comes in as handy as a small, very sharp knife. 😉


4.     I love the polarity of healer vs. killer.  Do you think that your MC is more evil than your average serial killer because she is a person charged with the care of others when they are at their most vulnerable yet she abuses that power?


I don’t know that I would call her evil. I see her as being broken inside… She’s dealt with a lot in life, but she’s still strong and willing to make her own path no matter what other people think of it. What she chooses may not be right, but it’s what she wants it to be. I guess she’s strong with a warped moral compass. LOL


5.     Do you have any inspirational music for your writing?  Any favorite artists to get you in the murderous mood?


Not really. Mostly I prefer silence. I think this is because once I get into a story, I block everything else out. I’m in my zone, so to speak, and very little gets in.


6.     I know you edit as well as write.  Do you find it difficult to step back and forth between the two roles?  Is it tough to refrain from changing an author’s voice while editing, or can you easily distance yourself while editing others’ work?


It’s complicated. I find I have the hardest time editing work by people from other countries. I get accused of ‘Americanizing’ it. Some hate it, while others don’t mind. I do tend to warn them at the beginning though, and I try to only make changes that will strengthen others work. I also try to be somewhat flexible when working with others, because, at the end of the day, it still represents them.


7.     What is your favorite writing project you’ve worked on so far?  Favorite editing project?


My favorite project would probably be Nurse Blood; it was really fun. My favorite editing project would probably be Earth’s End; it was a struggle, but ended well. 🙂


8.     What genres besides horror do you dabble in?  Do common subgenres or themes frequently sneak into your work?


Supernatural. I tend to write about the Devil.


9.     What is in your bug out bag, Rebecca?  How about five must-have survival tools and one luxury item?  Feel free to explain your choices.


Gun, ammo, matches, survival/herb book,   water, and luxury item…hmmm…hair brush!


10.   What new projects/books/stories are you immersed in currently?  Pimp ‘em, sister!


I’m finalizing Nurse Blood and starting on my zombie novel series: The Hunger Plague. I also have a few short stories in the works. 😀

Sounds great!  Thanks so much for taking the time to visit my blog, Rebecca!  I look forward to checking our your work!

You can find Rebecca Besser on Facebook here.  And check out her website @ or her blog:


Welcome to Adjective Abusers Anonymous

Hi.  I’m Kim.

Huh.  Maybe this isn’t as anonymous as I was led to believe?

Anyway, I’m an adjective abuser.  Hell, I’m a wife-beater-wearing, descriptive word over-user.  I can be a downright, hit-you-in-the-face-with-a-frying pan, shove it down your throat ’til you gag, just goes on and on so you wish I would die of old age already, sort of adjective rapist.

If wordiness were illegal, I’d probably be in a freezing cold, piss-smelling, rat-infested, black-hole of a jail cell right this minute.

The first step is admitting you have a problem.

Damn it, I have a big, fat, hairy problem.

These are my bunnies.  No one can steal them!

I have a big, fat, hairy problem and, no, it isn’t hipster zombie bunnies.

So, what is the second step?

I’m going to build a pyre in my backyard and burn index cards full of corpulent adjectives in effigy.  I’ll watch the ash rise and float down like blackened butterfly wings and I’ll dance naked with my new freedom from padded prose.

Third step:  Do a better job self-editing, dumbass.

Fourth step:  I’m not sure.  Maybe stop hanging out at bars

Fifth step: How many damn steps are in this program, anyway?  I’m cured already!  I feel ready to leap off a proverbial writing cliff and dive into the pool of conciciosity!

Sixth step:  Look up conciciosity at  DO NOT click over to

Seventh step:  Write the words “One Phenomenal Word is Better than Five Mediocre Words,” on a sticky note and plaster it to your writing desk right next to the note that says “Library & Laundry.”

Eighth Step:  Go put the laundry in the dryer using as few words as possible.  One good expletive is worth five shitty ones.

Ninth Step: Come on with the steps already!  This doesn’t seem to be working at all.

Tenth Step: Go to a kids’ online study site and practice basic English skills from the seventh grade level.  Do Mad Libs to re-familiarize yourself with the parts of a sentence.  Preposition?  What the hell is a preposition?

Eleventh Step:  Give up.  You suck.  Go roast marshmallows on the evanescent, crimson embers of your adjective crematorium.  Yum.  Eating your words never tasted so good.

“Your opening shows great promise, and yet flashy
purple patches; as when describing
a sacred grove, or the altar of Diana,
or a stream meandering through fields,
or the river Rhine, or a rainbow;
but this was not the place for them. If you can realistically render
a cypress tree, would you include one when commissioned to paint
a sailor in the midst of a shipwreck?”

-Quintus Horatius Flaccus

Twelfth step: I might paint a cypress tree, Horace.  I just might.

Procrastination: Writing Excuses 101

1. My dog ate my computer.

Oh, wait.  I don’t have a dog.  But if I did, I’d want this one.  At least he’d only eat my maple bacon and cat treats.

2. I just need to jump on Facebook/Twitter and/or check my email (for the next 2 hours).

3. I’m not sure what to do with this scene/I’m waiting for the characters to tell me what happens next/I’m waiting for an epiphany in the form of a blow to the head or a lightning strike.  How about a kick in the ass?

4. I need to wash my hair.

5. I need to wash the dishes (I know I’m grasping at straws when I use this one).

6. I’m just not in the zombie/cannibal/demon/vampire/insert anything writing mood.  Maybe I will be tomorrow.  Actually, if I sit down and start, I’ll get in the writing mood.  That’s how it works, and I know this.

7. I just need to watch a few videos on You Tube to get inspired first (six hours later…).

8. Another project takes precedence (and so I work on neither one).

9. I have to write a blog today.  Therefore, I can’t work on my current project.  Add any of the aforementioned excuses to this one to find out why the blog doesn’t get written either.

10. I’m exhausted from being the Games Master at Bible camp all week. And, no, they aren’t Hunger Games.

11.  I find it impossible to concentrate with 3 kids running around and asking for snacks/toys/or, as is the case right this second “Mom, where are my arms?” because they are pulled into the small kid’s sleeves.  These interruptions occur approximately five billion times a day during summer break.  I need a break from summer break.

12.  This nervous twitch in my eyelid whenever I stare at the computer for any length of time is stopping me from writing.  I mean really, what the heck?  It’s been like five days!  Maybe I should write a short about a killer nervous twitch.

And now for a quick pep talk to inspire me to get some writing done tonight…

Come on, you lazy puke–you’re not tired!  Eye twitches are kinda fun anyway!  You hate dishes, and besides the dishwasher is running right now.

Put those kids to bed and write, damn it!

Or maybe fall asleep on the couch watching a chick flick…It might generate some great ideas…

Movies You Can’t Stop Watching or The Mommy Dearest Syndrome

Today I want to talk about something that I like to call The Mommy Dearest Syndrome.  You know what I mean.  We all have that movie (or five) that, if we happen to flip through and land on it accidentally, we can’t stop watching.

I have a few movies like this, the big gold medal winner being “Mommy Dearest.”  Call me crazy.  Now, I can’t say exactly what it is about this film… Is the acting so high-caliber that it sucks me in like a black hole?  No.  Do I have an unbridled obsession with Joan Crawford?  No, again.  Do I beat my kids with wire hangers for using said wire hangers, and the movie somehow validates my poor parenting choices?  Not at all.  Although I do like to scream “No wire hangers EVER!” at random and inappropriate times.  Who doesn’t?

But I could turn on the TV to check the weather before going out for a root canal and if Mommy Dearest happened to be sucking back G and Ts and introducing strange men to her kids as “Uncle” So and So, I’m in trouble.  Yeah, I’m making that call and canceling my appointment.  I’m eating the fifty dollar late cancellation fee.  I’m sucking back G and Ts to dull the throbbing pain of my abcessed tooth.  All during the commercial break, mind you, because the only channels that run “Mommy Dearest” are the ones with frequent and excessive commercial breaks and I don’t want to miss a second of it.  I’m already suffering from an inexplicable depression for coming in when my movie is half over.  Or maybe because there is still half to go.  I can’t say, really.  I’m getting that nauseous feeling just thinking about watching it now.

That’s okay.  I’ll take the multiple advertisement opportunities to thaw out a steak for dinner or check the kids closets.

By the way, I love the steak part.  I think about it every time I make my kids finish their dinner.  I thought about it a lot yesterday when my youngest’s granola bar he pestered me for (no, not pestered, he rode me like a trick pony until I finally got off my butt and gave it to him, and all five minutes after a dinner he barely ate because he was “tooooooo fullllll”) was sitting on the table overnight because, when he became “tooooooo fullllll” to finish that, I was like, “Oh, you’re full of something, alright” and I left it on the table for a pre-breakfast snack the next day.

That was a long sentence.  My apologies.  My point is, I am totally picking up what Joan is dropping in that scene.

And, just like Joan, I threw the damn thing out about twenty-four hours later when, beaten down, I simply gave up.

Frankly, I think she got a bad rap.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll make the children address me as Mommy Dearest for the day, just to try it on for size.

Another movie that I can’t turn away from is “Ghosts of Mars.”  Yeah, yeah, laugh if you will–I finally made my husband watch this one and he was all, “that wasn’t scary at all!”  But, in my defense, there is something chilling about people being overcome by some nasty entity that makes them psycho killers and causes them to stick barbs through their faces without even wincing.  It could happen to anyone!  Ooh!  That just reminded me of the movie “Fallen,” which is another one I can’t pass up when it’s on.  Fantastic flick.

Also, along a similar vein of gut-grabbing creepy is “28 Days Later” which I could watch over and over and over and still be pants-peeingly scared.

And finally, “The Departed.”  No need for explanation.  Okay, I will anyway.  Leo.

Warning: This video has many F bombs and one Indian in the Cupboard.

So, lay it on me.  I’m really curious to hear what flicks other folks can’t flip off.  Comment.  Comment now.  Ready, set, go.

Bronies: For the Love of Ponies

Well, the print book is now available. In fact, I have my author’s copy on my bookshelf (just to see how it looks with my other books ;)). Of course, I won’t leave it there long because I am so excited to read this puppy. Here is a link to Kazka Press’ website where they can take direct orders for the book. The publisher is working on final formatting for the e-book as I type, so I’ll keep you posted on that.  Get it?  Posted?

These aren’t your sister’s ponies.

Kazka also has the table of contents up and links to read three of the stories in the book. Try one out just to see what the hell all of this Brony business is about. These stories ooze speculative fiction and are just plain fun, or eerie, or both.

I let my nine-year old read “Ponies” by Kij Johnson and asked what she thought.

“It was great!” She said.

“Great like it made you feel happy and shiny inside?”

“No. Definitely not that kind of great.”

[Disclaimer:  This is not a children’s book, but I had previewed “Ponies” and deemed it acceptable for my little “Goosebumps” fan.  Some tales may contain the occasional vulgarity].

And it’s not that kind of great. It’s the great of that first real breath after you just got the wind slammed out of you.

It’s the great of watching a bunch of annoying children slug a baseball bat into a piñata and having a load of beetles spill out into their greedy, grasping hands.

It’s the great of seeing a beautiful mushroom cloud explode and expand against a blood-red sunset, complete with irradiated marshmallows on a stick and the coolest shades you’ve ever owned.

So go grab a sample. Take a bite out of that marshmallow and taste for yourself how disconcertingly delicious it can be.

Bronies:  Damn straight these aren’t your sister’s ponies.