that tone, she received a special treat. She tightened her grip around her waist and nuzzled her ear.

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  For more information on Eile and Sunny, Team Girl, see the official site [https://www.teamgirlforever.com/].

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  About the Author

  Kevin L. O'Brien was born with a pen in his hand.

  Well, not quite, but he has been writing for as long as he can remember, at least since First Grade. Writing has always been his first, true love, but it hasn't always been his career. He worked for 15 years as a biomedical researcher, then for 3 years as a web designer. However, after 30 years of trying to be published in print with little success, he has decided to try his hand at self-publishing. Most of his works will be sold as ebooks through various online retailers, but he also plans to make some available for free exclusively on Goodreads.

  He writes primarily speculative fiction--fantasy, science fiction, horror, and their sub-genres--but he also likes to try his hand at thrillers, suspense, mystery, and even westerns. However, his stories tend to have a fantasy element, no matter how subtle.

  Most of his stories involve the following three main characters:

  Medb hErenn [https://www.medbherenn.com/]--One-time queen of Ireland, she is over 3500 years old. A warrior and a sorceress, she cannot be harmed by any weapon made by the hand of man.

  Eile and Sunny, Team Girl [https://www.teamgirlforever.com/]--They are two adorable, vivacious, fun-loving young women whose motto is ONWARD TO ADVENTURE!!! Yet trouble follows them like a love-sick puppy wherever they go.

  Sir Differel Van Helsing [https://www.sir-differel.com/]--The descendent of Abraham Van Helsing and King Arthur, she heads the Caerleon Order, the premier monster-hunting organization of the United Kingdom and the Commonwealth. She commands Dracula, the most powerful vampire extant, and the greatsword Caliburn, better known as Excalibur.

  He also writes a series of sword & sorcery stories set in an alternative universe known as the Lands of the Dreams of Men.

  Kevin lives in Denver with his family and 4 cats.

  For more information, see the Songs of the Seanchai [https://www.seanchaisongs.com/].

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  Discover other titles by Kevin L. O'Brien:

  A fidus Aranea, Adventurer's Honeymoon, Barbarians R Us, The Beast of Exmoor, The Christmas Vampires, Dark Vengeance, A Deliberation of Morality, Desperate Acts, Disposable Commodities, Do Unto Others, Far-Sight, Feline Savior, Felis ex Machina, Fun 'n' Games, The Golden Mushroom, Gourmand Hag, Gratuitous Crossover, Gruff Tolls, Immanuel, In an Octopus's Garden, Inseparable, Jigsaw Dragon, The Lions of Inganok, Man Friday, Masie's Mind, No Torrent Like Greed, Oak Do Hate, One-Percenter Vendetta, Post-Traumatic Redemption, The Price of Folly, Pride and Fall, Pyrrhic Victory, Redshirt, Rhapsody in Orange, Sacrificial Offering, Shenanigans, The Steel Gazelle, The Temple of Ubasti, A Typical Friday Night

  Enjoy these other titles at fine ebook retailers everywhere.

  Available on Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/story/list/20075368

  The Denver Walker, The Differential Damsel, Dribble & Maggot in the Land of Dreams, A Little Hospitality, Road to Hell, The Surrogate, Survival and Sacrifice, We Deliver, Youthful Indiscretion

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  Connect with Kevin L. O'Brien Online:

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/KLOB_writer

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/kevin.l.obrien.1

  Website: https://www.seanchaisongs.com/

  DeviantArt: https://teamgirl-differel.deviantart.com/

  Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/Kevin_L_OBrien

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  Sample Excerpts

  From "Pyrrhic Victory"

  Lt. Richard West scanned the barricade as he stood behind the forward squad. The dead swarmed over in ever greater numbers; in a little under an hour they had gone from a mere handful to a mob, and more arrived every minute. Not for the first time, he wondered how and where they knew to come.

  A tracer round flashed above him and slammed into the skull of a corpse standing on the roof of a car, the explosive bullet disintegrating the head. It came from the top of a fifteen-foot platform behind him where lay a half-dozen sharpshooters. But even as the decapitated cadaver fell back off the barricade, its seven companions leapt off the crest and charged the line of jarheads at the base. Until a short while ago, the riflemen had been enough to stop the revenants from coming over the top, but at the moment too many came too quickly; another handful followed the first lot, and the snipers had to concentrate on them. Meanwhile, he could see the heads of more appearing over the crest of the ridge of rubble and debris that closed off the cul-de-sac.

  The men and women in front of him did not hesitate. They fired at will with their forty-five automatics, modified to accept special clips that held 120 rounds each, and if the cadavers came within hand-to-hand range, they used machetes. The revenants could only be stopped by severe head trauma. That made automatic rifles and submachine guns useless, especially at close range. Though any form of head trauma would do the trick, a .45 caliber slug or sharp, heavy blade had proven themselves to be the most effective and efficient means.

  Even as the squad cut down the last corpse, Sgt. Kaylee Summers jogged up beside him. Though she had cut her luscious honey-blonde hair down to a severe crew-cut, her close-fitting fatigues accentuated her voluptuous figure. He knew she had been a nude model before the Apocalypse, and had once posed as a Playboy Playmate. The issue had come out the same day the dead had risen; some of the men joked that she had been cause. He still kept a copy, but he hoped some day she would give him a personal showing.

  He stared at her with some impatience. "What's the fucking hold up?"

  "Whateley's still chanting."

  He turned around. Behind him, a chain-link fence had been set up. Beyond it were half a dozen mortar pits, and behind those stood a mausoleum. In front of its closed iron doors a tall, gaunt, hoary figure dressed in soiled rags gesticulated madly as he screamed gobbledygook in a harsh, guttural language. What remained of West's platoon surrounded the old coot, and two grunts held a giant book open in front of him.

  He glanced at her without turning around. "We're running out of time."

  She shrugged. "He did say it could take awhile--look out!"

  He spun around in time to see a couple of dozen cadavers surge over the barricade. The sharpshooters brought six down immediately and four more fell to pistol fire as they reached the ground, before they could close with the troops. As two ran towards him and Kaylee, keening in their monotonous wailing voices, she raised her pistol and fired, knocking one backwards off its feet, as he swung his machete around in a wide arc and cleaved off the top of the other corpse's head as it tried to grapple with him. Meanwhile, a horde of dozens flowed over the barricade in a continual flood.

  "We don't have awhile!" He shoved a whistle in his mouth and blew a single long blast, then spit it out.

  He started to retreat. "Fall back!" Tapping his ear, he spoke into the microphone next to his left cheek. "Cover us."

  Behind him he heard the platoon sergeant shout, "Fire!", and a second later came the pop of mortars going off as the forward squad retreated. Shells screamed as they arced high above, then dropped steeply down on the other side of the barricade. Fragmentation shells went off some twenty-five feet above the ground, while incendiary shells fell to earth. Their explosions lit up the night as the rising fireballs illuminated the surrounding city ruins.

  Kaylee had rushed ahead to join her squad, as the two machine gun nests on either flank opened up. Though normally ineffective, their purpose at that point was to slow the macabre advance. Even if a corpse wasn't killed, a .50 caliber slug could still throw it down or tear off one of its legs.

  Yet a huge number still got through, forcing the marines to fight the cadavers off before they could retreat further. The snipers fire
d as fast as they could, and the rest of the platoon had gathered at the fence, shooting through the chain links, but they had to check their fire to avoid hitting their comrades. West stood in the open gate, holding it against any zombies that came near.

  "Come on! Move your sorry butts! We don't have all night!"

  A few had fallen under the surge of walking dead, but finally they reached the gate, and ran as their friends opened up with everything they had. Kaylee stood off, letting her squad through as she helped cover them. But she wasn't sufficiently armed to hold the cadavers off, and four of them caught her and bore her down. As three held her, fighting and cursing, the fourth began to rip off her clothes, to expose the tender flesh beneath. More dead swarmed around her, and as soon as they had denuded her they knelt and tore into her body with their teeth. Only her head stuck out of the mound of carcasses, and she started screaming as she bent it back. She stared at him, imploring with her sky-blue eyes for help. He hesitated only a moment, but long enough for a corpse to clamp its mouth on her neck, silencing her in a spray of blood. Then several more converged on her head and she disappeared from sight.

  Too late, he fired into the grizzly mass, screaming in rage, until his platoon