Table of Contents
Praise for
Breathers
“Funny, heartwarming, sad, and romantic . . . refreshingly original, with enough gore to satisfy any zombie fan.”
—Science Fiction Book Club
“Successfully balances humor, horror, social commentary, and a page-turning narrative to great effect. A great and worthy read.”
—HorrorScope
“
Breathers
will make you root for the undead. . . . For those who enjoy offbeat humor and satire, this is an excellent choice!”
—Bookopolis
“Humorous, horrific, and enthralling all at once.”
—SFRevu
“
Breathers
is a zombie novel for everyone. Even people who don’t like zombie novels. It’s funny, weird, insightful, and endlessly entertaining.”
—Jonathan Maberry, multiple Bram Stoker Award-winning author of
Patient Zero
“Browne’s black comedy debut brilliantly reinvents zombie culture for the twenty-first century . . . neatly mixes humor and extreme violence with a surprisingly tender love story, some witty social satire, and an extremely strong narrative voice.”
—Publishers Weekly
(starred review)
“A terrific comedy about the perils and joys of life beyond death . . . a zombie comedy with brains.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“Browne confidently balances a love story with ample amounts of gore and gags that should win over fans of George Romero and
Shaun of the Dead
. . . a welcome deviation in zombie lit.”
—Booklist
Books by S. G. Browne
Breathers
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First published by New American Library, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
First Printing, November
Copyright © Scott Brown, 2010
All rights reserved
NAL REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA:
Browne, S. G. (Scott G.)
Fated/S.G. Browne.
p. cm.
eISBN : 978-1-101-47791-5
1. Mythology, Roman—Fiction. 2. Gods, Roman—Fiction. I. Title. PS3602.R7369F’.6—dc22 2010028769
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For my parents. Thank you for believing.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The following people
were put on my path for one reason or another, and I’m grateful for all that they’ve done to help me try to stay on it:
Michelle Brower, my agent, who constantly makes me realize how fortunate I am to have her in my corner; Wendy Sherman, who opened her doors and welcomed me in; Jessica Wade, my editor, whose questions and insights helped to improve the manuscript in ways I couldn’t have accomplished without her; Kara Cesare, who believed in me and brought me on board; everyone on the team at Penguin and NAL who provided their invaluable input, support, ideas, and talents; Cliff Brooks, Ian Dudley, Heather Liston, Shannon Page, Lise Quintana, Amory Sharpe, and Keith White, who all read the first drafts and told me what worked and what needed to be fixed; Leslie Laurence, who offered her insights on Manhattan, chocolate rugelach, and relationships with mortal women; my parents, who believed in me even when I eschewed my business degree to pursue a passion that didn’t promise a weekly paycheck; and my friends, who are familiar with all of my faults and aren’t afraid to point them out to me. You know who you are.
CHAPTER 1
Rule #1: Don’t
get involved.
Such a simple rule, really. But here I am, sitting in a mall in Paramus, New Jersey, and I’m getting frustrated.
Annoyed.
Disappointed.
Eighty-three percent of humans are predictable creatures of habit who get stuck in routines and lifestyles and addictions or who go through their lives swapping one addiction for another.
My eighty-three percent. My humans. All five and a half billion of them.
The mall is one of the best places to go to see human nature at its best. Or worst, depending on how you want to look at it. Men and women, teenagers and children, shopping, eating, gossiping, filling up the vacuum of their lives with retail therapy and empty calories. My favorite malls are old-school. The ones that aren’t as big as Sri Lanka and still have food courts with Orange Julius, Panda Express, and Hot Dog on a Stick.
In the United States, there are twice as many shopping centers as there are high schools, and the shopping mall has replaced the church as the temple of cultural worship. In a society that encourages its citizens to measure their worth by financial success and material possessions, American humans spend more of their income on shoes, watches, and jewelry than they do on higher education.
Sure, it keeps Greed and Envy busy, but it makes my existence a living hell.
Back when humans were still in their hunter-gatherer phase, existence was all about survival, fulfilling the basic needs of food, clothing, and shelter, so it’s not like there were a lot of options for better living. Food wasn’t prepared by Martha Stewart. Clothing didn’t come with a Calvin Klein logo. And shelters didn’t require Ralph Lauren curtains with a matching duvet.
The thing about humans is that they’re addicted to products.
Habitual consumers. Indulgence abusers. Gratification automatons.