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'My name is Adam Meltzer and the last thing I remember was being stung by a bee while swinging at a robot-shaped piñata on my twelfth birthday. I was dead before the candy hit the ground.'
Memoirs of a Neurotic Zombie is narrated by the hilarious Adam Meltzer - pre-teen, worrywart, and now zombie. Adam's family gets the fright of their lives when he turns up at their door desperate for a shower . . . three months after his funeral. When most people think zombies, they think of eating people, and unintelligent monsters. But Adam doesn’t like germs. Or dirt. Or things being disorganised. So waking up as a zombie was definitely not in his plans, and the idea of eating people is disgusting. Getting stung by a bee doesn’t normally lead to becoming a zombie, and it seems incredibly unfair that it’s happened to Adam. Soon Adam's back at school trying to fit in and not draw extra attention to himself, but when he sees his neighbour Ernesto transform into a chupacubra, and the beautiful Corina (Adam's number one mega-crush) turns out to be a (vegan) vampire, undead life is never going to be the same again.
A hilarious adventure caper - if Ferris Bueller met Shaun of the Dead - all about friendship and being yourself . . . even if you're undead.
Jeff Norton's Memoirs of a Neurotic Zombie is published in the UK on August 7th, 2014 by Faber and Faber, and you can see the fantastic cover above. Doesn't it look great?! I'm excited to read this one because, well... zombies!
Do direct any cover comments you have to @FaberChildrens on Twitter, I'm sure they'd love to know what you think! In the meantime, here's a little extract from the book for you to read. Enjoy!
Adam attempts to go his room and finds things have changed since his death.
9. I wasn’t sure about going back to school because I’d be three months behind everyone. But any concern about my academic career (Dad’s words) evaporated when I went upstairs to the room formerly known as My Bedroom. Instead of being warmly greeted by my Ninjaman posters and alphabetical collection of travel-sized hand sanitizers; I stepped into an unholy shrine to Justin Bieber. And unless some movie studio boss had cast the Bieb as NinjaMan, someone had a lot of explaining to do.
‘Where’s all my stuff?’ I gasped. ‘Where’s NinjaMan? Where’s my SaniGel monument? Where are my drug pens?’
Mom and Dad shuffled awkwardly at the door. The late, great George Michael was right; guilty feet ain’t got no rhythm.*
We’re really sorry, Adam,’ Dad said, fessing up. ‘Your death was very hard on Amanda and she said she’d feel closer to you if she moved into your room.’
‘Is that right,’ I said. ‘My room with the two windows, a view of the street, and a bigger closet.’
Mom tried to appease me. ‘Your pen collection is safely boxed up in the basement with your picture books.’
‘Comic books,’ I corrected her.
Amanda pushed past my parents to put herself between me and the rest of the room. The rolling pin was back. She was clearly prepared to defend her occupied territory.
‘Now, Adam dear,’ explained Mom, ‘we thought it would help your sister with the grieving process and we didn’t think you’d mind.’
‘This is me minding! Where are all my clothes?’
‘I’m afraid I donated them to charity, kiddo,’ stated my Dad. ‘To help the needy.’
‘But I’m needy,’ I said. ‘Look at me! I’ve been wearing the same suit for three months!’
Read the previous extract over at Luna's Little Library and read the next extract over at Books 4 Teens!