ZIA, The Teenage Zombie & the Undead Diaries
by Angela Scott
Release date: September 20th 2015
Summary from Goodreads:
Zia would give anything to be a typical teenager… again. Heck, she’d settle for being a vampire or smelly werewolf, but a member of the walking dead? The lowliest of all the monsters? No way! Nothing is worse than being a skin-sloughing, limb-losing, maggot-housing, brain-craving undead girl. Nothing.
It wouldn’t be so bad if humans didn’t insist on “Living Impaireds” wearing bands to keep their insatiable appetites in check. And if LIs want to coexist with humans, then rules must be followed, no matter how ludicrous they might seem. Why do undead teenagers have to go to high school anyway?
Zia does her best to blend in and go unnoticed, but when a new group of LIs are bused in from another school and she finds herself part of a growing horde, all bets are off.
Besides, rules are meant to be broken—especially when an unbeating heart is pulled in two different directions.
I wish I’d been given the casket and burial plot kind of funeral instead of no funeral at all. I even
know the type of headstone I’d like. Not the ones that lay flat on the ground. No one sees those.
They get mowed over and stepped on. It would be nice to have an upright one in the shape of a
heart with a built-in vase for a nice flower or two. Preferably a daisy—my favorite.
My headstone would say my name, Zia Evans, and my birth date —the day I actually came into
the world and not my “rebirth,” as many call it: April 16, 1999. And of course, the day I died—
July 26, 2015.
Sing a song. Cry a little. Let me go to the great beyond. But no, none of that for me.
The day I died has come and gone and isn’t recorded anywhere. I still walk the earth and do
everything the same as before but with a “handicap”—my word for it—and no one cares when I
I remember, though.
Because the day I died was also the day I became a part of the walking dead.
And also the day my life totally began to suck.
I hear voices. Tiny fictional people sit on my shoulders and whisper their stories in my ear. Instead of medicating myself, I decided to pick up a pen, write down everything those voices tell me, and turn it into a book. I’m not crazy. I’m an author.
For the most part, I write contemporary Young Adult novels. However, through a writing exercise that spiraled out of control, I found myself writing about zombies terrorizing the Wild Wild West—and loving it. My zombies don’t sparkle, and they definitely don’t cuddle. At least, I wouldn’t suggest it.
I live on the benches of the beautiful Wasatch Mountains with two lovely children, one teenager, and a very patient husband. I graduated from Utah State University with a B.A. degree in English, not because of my love for the written word, but because it was the only major that didn’t require math. I can’t spell, and grammar is my arch nemesis. But they gave me the degree, and there are no take backs.