Bill’s Birthday Gift
I had seen the call for submissions to the Fifty Shades of Decay anthology and, of course I was intrigued. Then I read the entire description. They wanted zombie erotica. It was an anthology of stories about zombies and sex. I had a little giggle and told myself, “All I can think of is how they deal with body parts falling off. I couldn’t write this in a million years.”
Then Armand Rosamilia, who mentors me quite bit, asked if I was submitting to Fifty Shades of Decay. I said no, I can’t write zombie erotica! He wrote back “You can and you will. Get something written and submit it.” I try to take his suggestions, since he’s a successful and talented author, but sometimes I am timid. Armand doesn’t DO timid. Again I said, “Oh, I don’t think I can.” And immediately he wrote back, “Do it.”
Did I say “mentor”? It’s more like “person who kicks my ass to get me to write.” I finally agreed, yes, I would write something and submit it. Armand was not surprised. He hadn’t given me an option, had he? Just write it. I never imagined I’d write something good enough for the anthology.
So I sat and looked at my lovely blank computer screen, trying to imagine who would have sex with a zombie? That disturbed me quite a bit. So I tried to imagine two zombies having sex and got the giggles again. What if I had two humans having sex and they’re surrounded by zombies and wouldn’t the fear add something to the whole experience? Would they be unable to ignore the sound of zombies eating other people? Hmm. Okay, I could do this!
I tried to think of a place where a small group of people could be isolated within in a large building, still hear the zombies attacking other people, but remain totally safe. And I remembered a scene from The Sopranos where the mobsters were having a big dinner in a private dining room of a restaurant. They had hookers at the dinner. Bingo.
I put my characters in a private dining room, having a birthday party for their friend Bill, who really doesn’t mind the party but definitely doesn’t want the stripper his buddies have hired for the night. His fiance is not the understanding type and he’d rather not get her pissed off this close to the wedding.
So he’s trying to get the stripper to leave and his buddies are laughing their asses off at him, when suddenly a waiter rushes in screaming about zombies. The men (and the stripper) lock themselves into the private room, and they feel fairly safe right until the lights go out. They can hear the zombies pounding on the doors to the room, but Bill has used his cell phone to call the police and they are hoping the doors hold up until help comes.
Dark room, birthday boy, stripper. Did I mention she is a stripper with a heart of gold? Okay, she’s a stripper with a heart of gold and she has heard Bill talking to his lovely bride-to-be (the other men call her Lethal Lindsey, because she is such a ball-buster) and she’s feeling a bit sorry for the poor guy. She takes advantage of the darkness to give Bill a birthday gift. It’s erotica, figure that part out for yourself.
I ended up not having any zombies having sex, but I think the zombies did Bill a big favor. They gave him a chance to get away with a little pre-marital fun with no one ever knowing about it. Except that gold-hearted stripper, of course.
My brain is pretty twisted, I should have known I’d find a way to work sex into a story about zombies. But that kick in the ass from Armand was a big help. Sometimes you have to go outside your comfort zone. I ended up having a lot of fun writing “Bill’s Birthday Gift,” and that’s why I write in the first place.