It has been thirty years since England was plagued by zombies. Humans fear for their lives while the dead kill the living.

By the cover of night, a man known only as Aeron hunts these creatures. On one foggy evening he finds Lucille Knight’s life in jeopardy and Aeron’s interest is instantly peaked when he saves the young lady.

But Aeron will have competition when Lucy meets Lord Garrett Ashdown, son of the Inventor, Earl Thomas.

Lucy is drawn to the masked man and equally mysterious Lord. With one concealing his true identity and the other hiding a ghastly secret, she does not know which one is less dangerous.

Will she be able to be with the man she chooses when she learns the awful truth?

Zombies limped toward me, bloody and disfigured, a chaste moon slinging shadows against their lurching fingers. Their crimson-splattered mouths were hungry for my flesh. A few pulled the lower half of their bodies with their ashen, supple hands.

Some moved faster than others; they must have fed recently. How I had been stupid enough to head home from a friend’s house at such a late hour baffled me now.  Thirty years since the zombie apocalypse and sixteen years since my birth meant I had grown up knowing what should and should not be done. Yet here I was. Fear caused me to think as clear as a drunkard bent over a garbage pail.

Even though Queen Victoria had commanded a good majority of her soldiers into the streets of England to protect her people, it still remained a bloody mess. Some of us still lived with a false sense of security though.

I screamed, the sound echoing off the brick buildings. The streets were empty. Smart people were safe at home. The others were in taverns dancing and drinking. I wondered if anyone heard me or if everyone was ignoring me, as I had done so many times before.

Puddles of water splashed against me as I ran. My boots kept my feet warm, breath heavy against the cold. My hand caught my fall as I skidded to the left, the back of my leather skirt ripping against a wooden box I raced past. The whistle of a train broke through the sound of death following close behind. I ran into a chain-linked fence, and my rubber soles scraped against the stone road as I came to a halt. I had misjudged my aim. I had meant to go down Lily Road, toward my house. Instead I went down Dead End Road…literally.

With my back against the fence, I stared through my strands of shoddy raspberry-colored hair and into the dead faces before me. Ten of them. Slow and stupid, but large in numbers. The queen tried to keep these diseased creatures under wraps. Over the last few months, they began multiplying and soon became too much for our countries troops.

Again, I let out a petrified scream, but no soldier came. I imagined my neighbors shutting their windows and locking their doors. Another attack wasn’t anything new, and everyone depended on the Queen’s men to help.

Here I was, at the mercy of these demons, my black-and-white thigh-high stockings slithering down from my ruffled petticoat. Even with gloves covering my hands, the coolness of the steel gate behind me seeped through.

Crusty dried blood covered the mouth of the zombie closest to me, and I shut my eyes when his mouth showed teeth stained with yellow.

“You can’t see me, you can’t see me.” I mumbled a childish thought, one would have when only a tot.

The static tenor of a thunderous grinding reverberated in my ears. I opened my eyes. What sounded like the ringing of metal slicing through brittle rock was a sword splitting the flesh and bone of the zombie in front of me. I tried to back into the chain-linked fence, hoping to meld into it and be free from the havoc before me. Blood doused my chest; my eyebrows creased my forehead, my mouth deepening with a frown.

Another zombie with haggard brown pieces of hair staggered up to me. Her hand crept toward my face. My muscles clenched, matching my corset-tightened waist. I pressed the side of my face against the steel to the point I knew it would leave an impression. Peeking through the corner of my eye, I witnessed a blade strike her temple. The blood of the monster squirted against me and I flinched.

A gloved hand grabbed my shoulder, and an arm came under me before I experienced cool air sweeping against my sweaty face. The ground became distant as I was lifted over the fence and to the open road on the other side. My blood pumped with fright while I pounded the body holding me, afraid I had been captured by another type of monster. Arms grasped me closer as if I was Hade’s captor, Persephone, and we were crossing through to the underworld.

“Stop that or I’ll toss you back to be food.” He had an acute amorous voice.

One calloused hand was around my thigh and his other held my waist. The rapid wind assaulted me as he took us both away from the zombies now obscured in my rear view.

I was being rescued by some pale stranger with long black hair hiding behind a mask. Thoughts turned into a jumbled mess as I wondered if I should scream for rescue or hold on tighter. How could I know if he was truly here to help me or saved me only to murder me himself?

It was hard to see through it all, but I knew his eyes were boring into me. My breath caught as I feared what we might run into with his vision diverted.