Bachelorette: Zombie Edition-ebook

Shelby Bass dreams of being a tall blonde surfer chick in Hawaii.  Unfortunately, she’s a redhead, and a little person, and is currently struggling to stay employed at the lowest rung in a mainland coffee bar.  Her dreams are crushed and her life is changed forever when her father signs her up for a reality television show called After the Prize.

The show takes place in a dangerous haunted house, and involves three three-entity (whether any of the entities qualify as people is debatable) teams: midgets, zombies, and clowns. It is here that Shelby meets and is ultimately swept off her tiny feet by zombie Sir Reginald Kincade. But not before they face death, doppelgangers, and secrets to win the ultimate prize that will ensure their happy ending

Excerpt: 

Shelby Bass, in the rear seat of the 1960 Volkswagen Beetle, stewed over her predicament. This sucks the big one. Her two brothers, Clem and Buster, sat in the front bucket seats laughing at their usual bad jokes. At least they’re happy about this gig.

Seven in the morning and the sun peeked over the low hills surrounding the valley as they headed to the television studio, located in the middle of Nevada’s hot, dry foothills fifty miles outside Las Vegas.

Could we be any more remote?

The dry, hot, desert air was like an open oven door. The next car we get better have air conditioning. Or least be built in the twenty-first century. It must be a hundred and fifty out here. The oppressive heat added to Shelby’s glum mood.

The entrance gate sagged on its hinges and behind them were the massive sound stages made from huge sheets of plywood and oak beams that held the walls up. The wood looked worn and old, the paint peeling, with roofing tiles missing, leaving a patchwork effect. Great. The studio’s a wreck. Dad is sooo gonna pay for signing us to this gig. Getting the diamond back isn’t worth the humiliation of being on a reality show.

If this is reality then I have a big butt, which I most certainly do not.

If the sound stage we’re supposed to be on is in as bad shape as the front gate, then this dump’s gonna fall on our heads. Shelby sighed. Better dead than humiliated.

But if we don’t get the diamond back, I’ll be a thief until the day I die. Shelby fumed at her brothers laughing and joking in the front seats. Morons.

It’s not fair. All I ever wanted to be is a surfer babe in Hawaii. Can that be too much to ask? Bachelorette: After the Prize? Get real. I’m not a prize steer.

Tumble weeds roamed down the dirt street and Cholla cacti took over the entrance to a dilapidated security shack.

Her brothers pointed at the studio and laughed like kids. They looked like two kids who’d just discovered a tree fort in their backyard. Do boys ever grow up?

Inside the security office stood a guard wearing a wrinkled, faded blue uniform shirt, holding a wooden clipboard in a withered hand. He shuffled out of the shack moving toward them in that shuffling seniors-retirement-home way.

The guy looked as old as the buildings. He’s probably original issue when the studio was built, which must’ve been in the nineteen-twenties.

I hope they have indoor toilets.

The ancient guard tipped his peaked cap in greeting with one gnarled finger. “Hey there, young fella.” His voice reminded Shelby of sand paper running over a blackboard.

The slightly dirty and aged white plastic nametag on his shirt read, PAUL.

Great, a prison guard. Only he looks more like a prisoner than a guard. A skinny old guy like him isn’t gonna keep me from going over the wall.

“Hey, yourself.” Clem’s tone sounded gratingly cheerful.

“Help ya with sumthin’?” The white-haired guard’s sleepy gaze dropped to his clipboard.

“Paul, is it?” Clem always refers to people by their first name, something he learned in Marketing 101. Too bad he never took Marketing 202 or he’d be a more successful thief. Clem is terrible at bartering with fences.

Paul smiled and nodded. “Names?” He then tapped slowly on the clipboard with the tip of his pen.

Shelby stuck her head between the two front bucket seats and opened her mouth to speak. “We’re—”

Clem beat her to it. “We’re the Family Bass. You must’ve heard ‘o us?”

A tight, I’m-so-tolerant smile crossed the old man's bloodless lips. “Bass…hmmm…” His gaze dropped to the clipboard held in his shaky hand while he thumbed the ballpoint pen’s mechanism—click, click, click—in rapid succession.

Using the tip of the pen as a pointer, he ran down what must have been a list of names and nodded. “Yup. Got three Bass’ here. Shelby, Clem, and Bobby.”

Clem chuckled, turned to face Buster and winked.

Buster grunted and his brow wrinkled.

“Nope, my brother’s name’s Buster, as in Buster Keaton, who I’m sure you knew personally.”

Paul chuckled and checked off the names. “Yeah. Good ‘ol Buster K. Knew him well.” He stepped back and pushed on the counter weight that made the gate go up. “Go ahead.”

Clem rolled up the driver’s window and stepped on the gas pedal. From the backseat, Shelby glanced at the side mirror as they drove onto the old movie lot and saw the cloud of brown dust left in their wake.

Turning her attention to the front, she caught a movement of bright color out of the corner of her eye. The human shape of the color made an old fear rip through her. Her stomach became queasy. She shook off the nausea. “Naw. Couldn’t be.” It can’t be a clown. Not here.

Buster gazed over the back seat. “Somethin’ wrong, sis?”

“Nope. Nuthin’. Thought I saw something. But it’s impossible.”

Clem stopped and parked the car outside the half moon-shaped sound stage.

The massive soundstage towered over the tiny car some forty feet into the blue desert sky. The wall blotted out half the visible horizon with its massive size casting a shadow over them. How and why would a small television production company build such a monstrous structure?

Movement out of the corner of her eye again. She swiveled her head sharply to the left. Her jaw dropped and her heart froze in her chest.

A pasty-faced clown had just exited through a door on the side of the otherwise featureless wall of the sound stage.

The world began to spin, the car seat seemed to swell like drifting on the sea. “I don’t feel so good.” Beads of sweat tickled down her forehead, then her cheeks. She shivered. I must be coming down with something.

She collapsed onto the seat, and her eyes closed. Her brothers, the car, the studio, and the evil clown disappeared into a haze reminiscent of twilight. As her gaze dropped into darkness, the last thing she remembered hearing was Clem’s frantic cry.