Romance: Welcome to Zombie Island: A Tale of Zombie Romance and Survival (Post-Apocalyptic, Zombie, Spirit, Survival) Read Free Page A

Minister's side, watching as heads of state fawned over him. All Marcos got were condescending looks from foreign diplomats who assumed his uniform and medals were some self-aggrandizing costume. But he had earned his rank doing an officer's duty… tracking down dissidents and killing labor leaders. Any dirty deeds required to keep his boss in power fell to him. As the Prime Minister sipped champagne with the elite, Marcos was up to his elbows in blood.
    But over the years Marcos quietly built his own cadre of dedicated men, all eager for change. He'd also made a mental note of those who might present a threat to his new regime. A virtual Who's Who of Tortura's intellectuals, teachers and local officials would disappear shortly. Above all he would eliminate the Voodoo Priest Talin. Not only did the priest have too much influence over the population, he also possessed something Marcos wanted… voodoo's most powerful book of magic.
    An angelic female voice drifted through the air, singing a song Marcos knew by heart.  He followed the voice up the stairs like a child drawn by the pied piper. Silently he crept through the master bedroom, peering through the half open bathroom door.
    His mistress Novia was lying in the bathtub singing in the melodious voice that enthralled thousands. They'd only been together for five years, but she'd already transformed his life. He'd done countless terrible things in his life, each brutal act chipping away a piece of his soul until he had at times felt that nothing was left. But he felt Novia had given him back the soul he had traded for what until now had been a tiny bit of power.
    Like Marcos, Novia had clawed her way up from the gutter using her beauty and talent the way that he had used knives and bullets. Both suffered through degradation to rise above their lowly origins. There were nights when he woke up and heard her downstairs, crying softly. He knew the memories had come back to haunt her, just as they sometimes haunted him. Novia deserved to be a queen, and tonight he would give her that crown.
    "Are you enjoying my song?" She asked without looking up.
    "Of course, it's the one you sang the night we met." She had been the island's most beloved singer and dancer, performing for thousands. But that night he felt she sang only for him. It was the evening the spirits rescued him from darkness.
    She glanced up at him, "You have blood on your chest,"
    "I made sacrifice to the Baron's so they'll smile on us tonight."
    "Come here," She said smiling, "I will wash it off."
    He stripped off his clothes and approached the oversized tub, the one thing the French had done right. He closed his eyes as she gently ran a sponge across his chest… how many times had she washed blood off of him?
    The warm water on his chest and the sight of her lean dancer's body made his heart beat faster. She smiled knowing how much this excited him. Her hand moved the sponge lower until it was almost touching his erect cock.
    "I can't reach any lower if you stay out there."
    And he happily obliged her, quickly stripping out of his loose pants and climbing into the tub. He knelt down, leaning forward, pressing his lips against hers. Their tongues entwined as the sponge finally slid down to his erect cock. His body twitched at her touch just as it had their first night together. He ran his hands down her body, stroking her firm breast. Her nipples were already rock hard.
    He looked into her eyes, "There will be danger tonight, and I would prefer it if you would stay here where it's safe."
    She leaned forward putting her lips to his ear, "If there's danger I will be at your side my love, and when I am to die it will be at your side as well."
    His heart beat faster. What had he done in life to deserve such a rich reward? Surely the Barons had sent Novia to rule at his side.
    She ran her fingers across his back, sending tingles through his body. She never avoided touching the knife wounds or other scars that