With limited shooting skills, Lucy Marquez, a young, unemployed waitress, embarks on a new career as a zombie hunter, working for Jake Terwilliker's Zombie Hunters Extraordinaire, the only surviving group of their unique occupation in Northern California in the period just after World War II. All other hunters have been killed. But Lucy has more than zombies to contend with. Even though she was born with a red birth mark covering half her face and is known as the "Devils Spawn", she has both Jake and his giant ...
With limited shooting skills, Lucy Marquez, a young, unemployed waitress, embarks on a new career as a zombie hunter, working for Jake Terwilliker's Zombie Hunters Extraordinaire, the only surviving group of their unique occupation in Northern California in the period just after World War II. All other hunters have been killed. But Lucy has more than zombies to contend with. Even though she was born with a red birth mark covering half her face and is known as the "Devils Spawn", she has both Jake and his giant half-wit brother Tommy both in love with her, and has aroused the lust of the corrupt, sexual predator Judge Clemens, mayor of the town Los Perros Muertos (the dead dogs).
Added to this mix are Zena, the zombie sorceress from Louisiana, who is not content with the work of digging up dead people, and employs her bacteriological powder to convert living people to into "super" blood sucking, flesh eating zombies, with extremely quick animal reflexes and powerful strength. Her goal, of course, is to raise a zombie army to capture first Sacramento and then all of California. After all, her enemies of today after they are killed, become her soldiers of tomorrow.
In addition, adding a significant dose of black humor, the mob in the guise of Leon Napoli also has decided to muscle in on the zombie business. And, luckily, they have no difficulties in procuring dead bodies with bullet holes in their heads to pawn off as harvested zombie victims. The only snag that the rather short mobster named for Napoleon encounters is that he is killed rather early, but he is not one to let that stop his big plans.
Jake's friend Woody joins Jake's team just in time to get drunk; write catchy, irreverent songs; chase dead zombie women, who remind him of the whores in L.A.; and basically collect a paycheck while the world is coming apart around him. And the military is not to be left out as Lieutenant Colonel Tarquin who, like Lieutenant Colonel Custard before him, has big plans for a promotion to full colonel that rely on proving the Jake and his hunter's are just plain killers and the whole zombies racket is just one big con game. To prove his point he incompetently commands a task force that enters into Los Perros at the start of the Zombie War, the war to decide whether mankind will survive, or wander about dead to the world as usual.
Imagine that somewhere in the world there exists two amazingly gifted authors who write genre fiction of every variety: science fiction, horror, fantasy, Westerns, thrillers, historical fiction...eschewing efforts to win Pulitzer or Nobel Prizes for literature, or big book contracts like Stephen has thrown into his face all the time, and other such nonsense...eschewing all of these in order to deliver to their readers highly unpredictable, completely enjoyable and satisfying (while at the same time, somewhat sad and forlorn, Carson McCullers kind of crap) novels of the quality and quantity that discerning readers have only dreamt about.
We are not those authors.
However, we, Emem and Jael, are writers of renown, and we are attempting to at least approximate the above credentials. We write books because they come to us as nightmares: like creatures that fly in the night and prey about those foolish enough to wander the streets, or we dream about dying many deaths, or zombies attack our gas stations and break through the windows and we have to spray them with the hose and set fire to the whole place, losing our franchise with the petroleum company...and our only way of releasing ourselves for these horrors is to pass them on to you; or we have movies playing in our head over and over until finally we write them down, and then these thoughts play over and over on the pages for as long as paper holds ink and words have meaning. We are those authors...and the pages of our books represent our humble contribution to your edification and enjoyment. Feed your brain...and forget about those two ideal writers, they never existed and they never will...and their stuff would probably be crap, anyway.