Brains: A Zombie Memoir

Brains: A Zombie Memoir

Robin Becker

Language: English

Pages: 182

ISBN: 0061974056

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

“A witty and unexpected take on the zombie genre; I had a great time.”
—Charlaine Harris, #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Sookie Stackhouse novels


Subtitled “A Zombie Memoir,” Brains looks at America’s favorite walking-dead flesh-eaters from an audaciously original and deliciously gruesome new perspective. Debut author Robin Becker blazes new ground with this story of former college professor-cum-sentient zombie Jack Barnes, who recounts the tale of the resistance he organized in the wake of the recent zombie apocalypse. World War Z; Shaun of the Dead; Pride, Prejudice, and Zombies… Becker tops them all with Brains—a witty, tasty treat for anyone who every spent a midnight glued to a classic George A. Romero zombie epic!

My Big Fat Zombie Goldfish (My Big Fat Zombie Goldfish, Book 1)

Patient Zero: A Joe Ledger Novel

Faith (The Remaining, Book 4.6)

Wither (Withered, Book 1)

Triumph of the Walking Dead: Robert Kirkman's Zombie Epic on Page and Screen

Bad Blood (Tomes of the Dead: Double Dead, Book 2)




















was not going to emerge from the ether; no Hollywood hero was coming to save the day, no tablets from Mount Sinai to teach us how to behave. I was a future ancient. A post-culture primitive. None of the zombie movies or the Max Brooks and Dr. Phil books could help me. La Chupacabra, Hook Man, the Man with the Golden Arm, Satan, Ed Gein, Dracula—they couldn’t help me. We were alone. My barbaric yawp fell on deaf ears. My greatest fear: The moral right is on the humans’ side. In the history

times—Annie was shaking her ass like there was no tomorrow. The pants sagged where the bottom half of her cheek should have been. Guts whirled in like the Tasmanian Devil. He tossed Isaac on the couch and turned a cartwheel, raring to go. If Chicago was a bust, if the meeting with Stein turned ugly and my treatise was dismissed, we would continue north. The best way to stave off decay is to stay dry. Ask any Egyptian mummy or frozen Neanderthal. Our choices were desert or tundra. Like

Publisher PROLOGUE WHAT YOU HOLD in your hands is a zombie memoir, the touching postlife story of a walking corpse and his journey toward self-acceptance and knowledge, told honestly and in the first person, straight from his skeletal hand to your plump one. What you hold in your hands I wrote and left on top of the desk in my hideout, a log cabin in the northern wilds of Canada. It is nothing short of revolutionary. Revisionist historians, prepare to revise. In life, I was an English

karma for premarital sex or mistreating women or abusing power. In other words, the victim is a bad, immoral human who deserves death by zombies, death by Leatherface, death by vampires or giant spiders. There was no narrative significance to this decapitation, however. The lady had been long dead: No blood flowed from her grisly neck; no justice was served. I neither knew nor cared whether she was kind to children and small animals, whether she was faithful to her husband or spent too much

his arms over his bulletproof vest. I unfolded the paper and held it out so that the words faced Stein, as if they were an incantation or a spell. The password primeval. The sign of democracy. Somewhere in the city, there was an explosion and a barrage of machine-gun fire. The soldiers tensed and a radio squawked. “Let’s hope so,” Stein said, nodding at the men. “Bring it here.” One of the soldiers approached me, and I smelled his brains, his musk, like fresh-baked bread, wild honeysuckle,

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