The Undead That Saved Christmas

Sometimes it takes a village to help great kids have a fantastic Christmas. And sometimes that village is filled with scary, misshapen beasts that eat brains and have a distinct creep factor but enough about DC...

The Undead That Saved Christmas is the kind of stocking stuffer that only very odd children would appreciate but adults go nuts over. Filled with enough zombie action for the discerning Undead fan, it replaces the heart that the zombies ripped out moments before. Imagine THAT wrapped under the tree, eh?

Proceeds from the sale go directly to the Hugs Foster Family Agency in southern California to help with Christmas gift costs. I'm happy to be a part of this fun anthology with my short story, And to All a Good Fright. It's one of my personal favorites. Gather round, kids, for a little excerpt:

The elves never saw it coming. One minute Santa Claus was happily breaking and entering into houses and the next – dead as a Christmas cookie, crapped on by Comet.    
“What the hell was that about?” Burley never minced words. It’s no wonder they kept him away from shopping malls when Santa popped in for a special occasion, he’d scare the crap out of the kids. Pulling a cigarette from behind a pointed ear, he scraped a match on the body lying on the snow-covered lawn and lit the sweet tobacco. His breath in short puffs, he attempted to keep it going against the coldness but with little luck.  Throwing the stunted paper roll to the ground, he looked at his partner.

“Just one more cookie, just ooone more cookie!” Elmore paced around the body. His feet jangled with the regulation bells the main office made all elves wear on their shoes to show solidarity. Burley complained it was more like elf torture to hear the tingling of the silver spheres daily, his ears apparently more sensitive than his personality.

“Forget it. The old man is gone. What did he think? All those sweets for the past hundred years wouldn’t catch up to him? His only exercise was climbing those roofs one night a year, and damn – those reindeer were getting husky pulling his jolly red butt as he put on a little cookie weight.” Extending his stomach, Burley jiggled toward the Christmas icon, “Ho, ho, meh, whatever.” Clapping his hands together to get the blood circulating again in the cold, Burley looked around the neighborhood where bad luck and one-to-many Ding Dongs had stranded them.

Other excellent stories and carols by my friends Jason Tudor, Angie Mansfield and Beth Bartlett plus two little carols I, er, zombie-fied, are included, joining other zombie authors in this great book for a worthy cause.

Ho, ho... meh, whatever.

1 comment:

  1. Fun! You make me want to keep submitting shorts. I need to get on that...