This is the unedited beginning to my next zompoc romance.
“What the hell?”
Taylor turned in a circle, her hand holding her phone aloft. The action was self-explanatory, but the woman whined the unnecessary and oft repeated words anyway.
“How can there be no bars? I’m out in the open, the sky above. Aren’t the satellites up there somewhere?”
She marched over to his chair; her hand held out. “Give me yours.”
Wyatt Hudson sat in silence as he handed the phone over to his co-star.
Her world-famous pout grew on full, luscious lips. “My agent reached me this morning to tell me he already signed me up to do the sequel of this crappy zombie movie. Couldn’t the phones have not worked then? But no. Melvin gave me that message to start the day.”
His silence continued as he stared at the woman. Taylor Reece had burst onto the scene since she first appeared in a torn t-shirt in a dinosaur on a rampage movie. Computer geeks the world over viewed the film frame by frame to catch the rumored nipple shot. One that didn’t exist except in her agent’s money-grubbing mind to set his hottest star skyrocketing. A poster of her in the t-shirt hung on every young boy’s bedroom wall. Even on not-so-young men’s walls as well.
Her words penetrated Wyatt’s mind. A sequel? They had to be kidding. He heaved a sigh of relief that his character died in Taylor’s arms at the end. No sequel for Wyatt Hudson. He’d only done the low-budget horror film for a friend’s kid’s first directing credit. He’d done over twenty action films, most of them Hollywood blockbusters. He might be getting older, but he was still an action hero superstar. The payment he’d agreed to on this film wouldn’t pay the monthly mortgage on his Aspen vacation home.
Taylor’s pout disappeared as she marched back and forth across the tall meadow grass. Someone should really tell the woman the pout had outlived its usefulness and she was more gorgeous without it. Not that it would be him. He and Taylor had butted heads since day one on the shoot. Part of his contract allowed major decisions on the film and Taylor hadn’t been his first choice for the female lead. Hell, she hadn’t been his fourth or fifth choice, but no A List actress wanted to do the film, even with America’s Hero as the male lead.
Wyatt glanced over at the small dog in Taylor’s chair. Buddy had been curled in a sleepy ball, except now the ball of fur was tense and the hair stood on end along his spine as he growled. A growl answered from across the meadow.
Grabbing his glasses from the front pocket of his shirt, his gaze swept the area on high alert for the paparazzi. Not that he’d seen many here in the Northern California foothills, but he refused to be photographed in glasses. Especially when he only needed them for far distances.
He put them on and allowed his eyes to refocus. Seeing nothing but the zombie extras milling around among the trees, he took them off and put them back in his pocket.
Taylor came over to her chair and picked up Buddy. “Hush, baby. Don’t let the fake zombies scare you.”
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Jill James, romance author of the Time of Zombies series