Friday, January 18, 2013

Wisteria Blog Tour & Giveaway


Thirteen months after the first official case of Nero Disease

“Wisteria, run.” Rebecca O’Leary screamed over the radio.
Wisteria Kuti whipped around and came face-to-face with the blood-red eyes of a hungry
flesh-eater. The biter was a man, infected by Nero Disease, who had long lost his mind. He
looked more animal than human and he wanted one thing, the same thing all creatures like
him did—to feed on the flesh of the uninfected. The biter growled and staggered toward
Wisteria.
She fled down the deserted road to the nearest house, and found the front door locked.
She kicked at it, but the oak panel refused to open. Taking out her handgun, she smashed
through the large, ornate window.
The distinct shuffle of feet against the hard-packed dirt of the driveway alerted Wisteria
to the growing number of biters behind her. Spinning around, she fired blind into the small
crowd and hit one in the head. She reached inside the house and turned the lock, opening the
door.
Crash—a biter smashed through another window.
Wisteria’s heart jumped and she darted up the stairs.
“Get out of the house, Wisteria!” Rebecca radioed.
I’m trying, she thought.
A biter grabbed her ankle, tripping Wisteria on the steps. She inhaled sharply, pain
lancing up from the spot where her shin connected with the wooden tread of the stair. “Ah.”
No time to cry, Wisteria. She fired at the flesh-eater holding her. One bullet left.
Three more biters appeared below and started up the stairs. Leaping to her feet, Wisteria
sprinted to the top floor and dashed through the first open doorway into what appeared to be
the master bedroom. Turning the lock, she headed straight for the window.
The infected clawed their way through, tearing the wood panel apart and snarling as they
shuffled their way toward her.
Trying to open the window, Wisteria found it stuck and the panes too small to fit through.
She pulled harder—nothing. Then she heard the biters’ cries. They were now in the room
with her.
“Just hold on,” Rebecca shouted over the handheld radio. Wisteria strained to hear her
over the cacophony of noise from the flesh-eaters.
Wisteria fired. The bullet went through one creature and hit another—both fell, their
glazed eyes staring back at her as they dropped to the hardwood and stayed there.
She fired again. Click. No bullets. “Wonderful.” She stoned the biter with her useless
weapon tono effect. It kept coming, inching her toward the useless window at her back.
The red handle of a samurai sword in the corner of the room caught her eye and Wisteria
dove for it. Another infected entered the room. She took the sword from its sheath and
pointed it at the approaching hoarde. The blade trembled in her grip, nearly slipping from her
hands as a gunshot rang out from behind the crowd of flesh eaters. Two more biters fell, their
gray matter splattered on the floor in front of her.
Lara Kuti filled the doorway, slowly lowering the two handguns she held trained on
Wisteria, and the infected standing between them. “Wisteria, what the hell are you doing
here?” the older woman seethed.
“I was cleared to work,” she explained to her mother.

“You’re prepared to die out here?” Her mother glared, stepping over a corpse and closer.
“You think we’re playing here? And how the hell did you leave Smythe?”
“Major Coles cleared me,” Wisteria muttered.
“Coles knew?” Her mother’s eyes narrowed at the mention of Coles.
Something moved in the corridor, prompting her mother to whip out her handguns and
aim them at the door.
A few seconds later, red-headed Rebecca O’Leary entered. “You’re alright.” She panted,
face flushed scarlet with exertion from the half mile run to the house from her look-out spot.
“I told you that you would.”
“You sent her out here alone?” Lara didn’t lower her weapons.
“Mum, it’s Rebecca,” Wisteria huffed. “I don’t think she’s infected.”
“You almost got her killed.” Wisteria’s mother ignored her defense of the other woman.
“Lara, the girl’s fine.” Rebecca scoffed as she as she stood waiting for Wisteria’s mother
to lower her weapons. “We almost get killed every day.”






Author Bisi Leyton:
Bisi Leyton was born in East London in 1978. She grew up in London, Nigeria and the States, listening to the stories life and love from aunts, cousins and big sisters.
She lives in London, but has worked around Europe including France, Germany, Ireland, Belgium and the Czech Republic. She has a fondness for reading graphic novels.





Links



Blog Tour Giveaway
$25 Amazon Gift Card or Paypal Cash
Ends 1/31/13

Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use an Amazon.com Gift Code or Paypal Cash. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. Giveaway was organized by Kathy from I Am A Reader, Not A Writer http://iamareader.com and sponsored by the author. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.

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