Read Lipstick & Zombies (Deadly Divas Book 1) for Free Online Page A

slogging dimly through their lives.
    Maybe nothing felt real because nothing there was.
    She shook her head free of the thought. That was heavy.
    A black girl with a prosthetic leg walked in. The prosthesis was sharp at the base, shoeless, and looked like it would scratch the hell out of their floors. The sleek prosthesis and her shiny curls made her look like she belonged in that room in a way Jo never would, but she still managed to look relaxed, like none of it was anything to her. She seemed like someone who could be at home anywhere. Jo liked her right away, which was surprising. She didn't like people; it wasn't something she'd thought much about until she noticed how strange it was that she appreciated this one.
    More heavy thoughts. Her mind must have been on overdrive because of the lack of sleep, or perhaps it was the life changing decision she'd only half made.
    Jo nodded in greeting, and the girl returned it. She sat across the way without a word, confirming Jo's impression that this girl was someone she could get along with. Perhaps this popstar thing could work out.
     
    SADIE
     
    Survivalists were all about glaring, and grunting, and growling. Long monologues about the end of days and how everyone was living in a dream bubble were second nature to them. Sometimes they'd be interviewed for a laugh, but otherwise they were ignored. Sadie was shocked to see one sitting in the meeting room for the band, enough so that she wondered if the secretary had led her to the wrong room. The survivalist didn't seem shocked to see her, though. The girl gave Sadie a once over, and nodded, looking her in the face, only briefly looking at her leg. She didn't say anything, so Sadie didn't either.
    This pop band thing was already unbelievably weird.
    She was worried about her stuff. The secretary at the front desk had told her to leave her belongings and someone would deliver them to the room, but she'd left her bag of clothes and boxes of legs. It wasn't like she could just replace her legs. Her brother, Anthony, had spent years building her collection.
    She was considering going back down and checking on them when then that girl walked in. Casie? Carly? Whatever. Sadie knew her as the enemy. She should have known that pretentious monster would audition, and it was just Sadie's luck that the girl had actually made it in. The world had an evil sense of humor.
    The enemy didn't say a word, the snob. She smiled at Sadie and the survivalist and went to stand in the corner instead of taking a seat. She actually bothered to pose, with her hands on her hips and that small, polite smile plastered on her face. Pre. Ten. Tious.
     
    DEE
     
    "Why is everybody not talking?" Dee wasn't used to noticing stuff like that, stuff about other people or the social temperature of rooms, but this room was crazy cold. "Did they like, tell you not to talk? Is there a rule? Because nobody told me."
    The black girl with one leg cleared her throat and said that there was no rule. Dee held out her hand, and the girl shook it lightly, like she didn't want to touch Dee. She shrugged it off and went straight into telling her that she loved her fuchsia heel. Such a bold shoe. The girl just blinked up at Dee, like she thought Dee was kidding. "No, seriously," Dee said. "I love a bold color. Black shoes are great and all, and most of the pumps I find are a solid black, but that's why something like fuchsia is so important, don't you think?" She gave a full beat of space for the girl to respond, and when she didn't, Dee gave up and turned to the survivalist. She wore black clothes with no real shape to them. It made her look even whiter than she already did. They lived in the desert. It had to be intentional to be that pale, but Dee couldn't understand why someone would intentionally look like that.
    "How long do you think we're going to wait in here?" Again, no response. "Is this the room for the Deadly Divas? Because you all don't talk much for, you know,