Daily Archives: October 7, 2015

#31ZombieAuthors – Day 7 Interview – Gillian Zane – Alpha Male Lessons for BQB


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Today’s guest is Gillian Zane, author of the Nola Zombie Series. Follow the exploits of doomsday prepper Alexis Winter and macho ex-military man Blake Miller as they brave the streets of New Orleans in the midst of a zombie apocalypse, fight for their survival, and do it a whole helluva lot.

“Um…hey guys? Do you know there’s zombies outside and…oh what they hell, have fun you two.”

Filled with “zombies, sex, romance and carnage,” this is a series designed to titillate the senses of the adult reader and thus its only intended for those 18 years and over.

Hello Gillian. I can hear you loud and clear on Alien Jones’ space phone.


Q. I have to admit, when I first heard about the concept of blending the erotic and zombie genres, I was skeptical. How could anyone feel frisky whilst surrounded by hideous killer zombies? But after learning that my group of survivors and I have to go on a desperate, high risk mission to rescue my ex-girlfriend, my current girlfriend got so hot and bothered that she jumped my bones and now I’m a believer.

What is it about a zombie apocalypse that drives people mad with sexual desire? Is danger an aphrodisiac?

A.  The zombie apocalypse is how it takes its form in my world, but basically it’s death in general. Or more importantly facing death. Zombies represent death in it’s basic form. They are walking corpses trying to get you to join them. When faced with death around every corner it is human instinct to survive. This includes sexual reproduction. So, to put it literally, a brush with death is an aphrodisiac.

Combine this with the breakdown of societal norms, a person that was once restrained by moral or societal constraints might find themselves more free to express their sexuality in an apocalypse. There is no one to judge them, shame them for their behavior, even themselves. You have no time to worry if he’ll “respect you in the morning” if you are the only two people left on the planet because everyone else is a zombie.

Q. On Twitter, you state “I write really sexy novels & novellas, with lots of angst and plenty of alpha males.” Are alpha males born or can they be made? I ask this because presently, I’m about as alpha as a puppy dog, but I wouldn’t mind becoming one of those perfect haired muscular stud muffins who grace your book covers. Is there anything I can do to alpha myself up or is it just a lost cause and maybe I should just embrace my usual nerdy demeanor?

A. Even a nerd can be an Alpha male. It’s not about muscles or waxed chests, in fact, most men that I’ve met who have perfectly chiseled abs and waxed bodies are as insecure as they come. The key to becoming an Alpha Male is confidence. Taking charge of a situation instead of sitting back and letting someone else run the show. The reason muscles and chest hair come into play is usually because of the strength aspect. Most alphas are stronger, faster, and bigger than their beta brethren. This is because in the animal world, bigger usually translates for a win. But, a faster, smarter man can always take down a big, dumb, slow loser.

Think David and that Goliath dude. You don’t think David got hoisted up to Alpha status after he took down the Giant? I betcha he never waxed his chest. So, basically there is hope. Pump up that confidence, do a few chin-ups, don’t let people push you around (but don’t be a hot-head) and if you want to be the star of a Romance – it helps to be really good in the sack.

BQB EDITORIAL NOTE:  Well, I’m screwed then.

Q. Your series takes place in New Orleans, a city rich with culture and history. When they aren’t killing and/or humping, do your characters get to pass by any of the sights? One of the reasons I’m intrigued is that a New Orleans setting seems like a fun, unique idea.

A. Well, it takes place in New Orleans, because what better place to have a zombie apocalypse? Or really, it’s because I know this place much better than any other place on the planet and New Orleans people are preppers by nature because of those pesky hurricanes. Do my characters get to check out any of the sights in New Orleans? Not really. A guy gets eaten by a zombie on Bourbon Street and that is shown on the news, but my characters are local, so they aren’t going to go around checking out the city. They hit places that aren’t very famous, but it does give you a unique view of the city from a local’s perspective. You might recognize some names, but I took great detail in going to places that I thought were logical for a group trying to escape zombies and actually ran the route a few times to make sure it was logical.

Q. Your character, Alex, is a doomsday prepper and on your Amazon page, you mention you’re a prepper yourself and that your past times include stockpiling Meals Ready to Eat and researching how to build a cistern on a budget. As a world renowned poindexter, I already knew that a cistern is an underground water storage tank that can be connected to sink or toilet and didn’t have to look that up at all. I interviewed another prepper earlier this month so I’ll ask you the same question. What’s up with the prepping? Are we all doomed or is it just a better safe than sorry thing?

A.   As I mentioned in the earlier question, as a New Orleanian, I’m a natural prepper. I have to be. I feel like I survived one apocalypse already, Katrina. I lived right where the levees broke, in a neighborhood called Lakeview. So, we had to bug-out very quickly and live like transients for about a month, until we finally had to rely on the government to get us a FEMA trailer. I don’t ever want to do that again. I usually prepped for about a week, to survive without electricity and water. But, now we have to prep to actually leave the city or bug-out AND I never want to rely on the feds to help me and my family–because it comes when they are ready, not when you need it. It is a way of life down here because it’s inevitable that another hurricane will happen.

Will it have the same impact as Katrina? Maybe not, but do I want to take that chance? Fifty years ago, Americans could can their own food, knew how to grow their own gardens, knew how to mend their clothes, had water stored…because, being self-sufficient meant the difference between life and death. We’ve become spoiled, our food is delivered to us, the majority of us couldn’t tell you where their banana came from, much less what fruits are grown regionally.

Should we be worried about an impending apocalypse? I don’t think there is one on the horizon, at least not a BIG one that destroys the world. But, I do see regional issues, droughts, more hurricanes, those sort of things, which being prepared for will really help. And in my world, it is always better to be safe than sorry.

Oh, and BTW – we use an above-ground cistern, can’t do below ground in New Orleans because of the water table. We actually have a raised cistern and we use gravity, almost like a water-tower. You would use it for watering your plants, or in an emergency for showering etc. You would have to treat it for drinking water, but that can be a simple filtering process. We get so much rain down here, it is logical to collect rain water for the plants.

Q.  Gillian, thanks for taking a few minutes to talk zombies with me. Before I go, do you have any last minute advice to help my friends and I survive the East Randomtown Zombie Apocalypse?

A.    Take to the water. Zombies can’t swim. But, shoot for deep water, they can float.

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POLL- Should BQB and the Gang Save Blandie?

Bookshelf Q. Battler:  No!  We’ve got a great set-up here in Price Town!  Free food, supplies, and a gate that’s keeping the zombies at bay!  Plus, she made this face at me for as long as I knew her:


VIDEO GAME RACK FIGHTER: Yes!  She’s still a person and I’ll never live with myself knowing I could have prevented her from being eaten by ravenous zombies, even if she and BQB used to get jiggy with it.




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BQB’s Zombie Apocalypse Survivor’s Journal – Day 7

October 7, 2015

It was mid-afternoon and a bit of light streamed in through the store’s front windows. I felt at ease during the day. It was night time I had to worry about. The pitch black night when VGRF, my alien and I huddled together back to back, fearful that a vicious zombie might be inches away from our faces and we wouldn’t even know it.

“Ahh let’s see,” I said as I stared at Alien Jones’ space phone. “Couple new followers. A few new comments. Some dude is trying to post a spam comment about Venezuelan jock itch powder.”

Sir Spamsalot says: 8:01 A.M. Oct 2, 2015

I am to be enjoying your fine bloggings with the writings and the words of much importance and interest to the readers of the world who care very much about jock itch powder for the curing of the itching of the jock…”

“Delete!”  I said as I punched a button on the space phone.  “I’ll never allow me 3.5 readers to be sold inferior jock itch powder!”

“I can’t believe you’re worried about your dumb blog at a time like this,” VGRF said.

“I’m past the point of no return in my one post a day for a year challenge,” I said. “I promised my 3.5 readers one post of BQB goodness every day in 2015 and by God, I’m not about to quit now, come hell, high-water, or zombies!”

I scrolled through my WordPress dashboard.

“Jeeze,” I said. “I’m really behind in responding to these comments…whoa!”

“What?” VGRF asked.

“Check this out.”

My ex-girlfriend, Bland Life Settler, or “Blandie” as I called her, had posted a comment on the Bookshelf Battle Blog a few days earlier, long before the power went out:

Blandie Settler says: 9:45 P.M. October 3, 2015

BQB, you ass! You’re really updating your blog right now? You know I work at Hipster Hut and yet it never once dawned on you to check on me to see if I’m ok! I’ve barricaded myself in the backroom behind the checkout counter. Get your stupid ass over here and save me or I’ll tell every last one of your 3.5 readers about your tiny…

Huh. I don’t know what happened. The rest of the comment must have been cut off.

“Blandie works in the mall?”  VGRF asked.

“Same job since high school,” I said. “Blandie likes things to be predictable and boring, whereas I prefer to try new things. It was one of the main reasons why she dumped me.”

Alien Jones sauntered in, noshing on a club sandwich he’d made himself from various ingredients he’d swiped from the deli. I don’t think it mattered to him that everything had spoiled due to a lack of electricity.

“That and your tiny…”

I cut the Esteemed Brainy One off.

“Yeah, I can’t think of any other reason why she left,”  I said.

“She also disparaged your interest in a writing career,” Alien Jones said. “Caused you to quit on your dream and take a lame job as the Assistant to the Assistant of the Vice President of Corporate Assistance at Beige Corp, the world’s premiere producer of beige products and accessories.”

“God,” I said. “I haven’t even checked in with my boss since last week.”

“Don’t worry,” Alien Jones said. “He’s probably zombie poop by now.”

“Poor Mr. Thompson,” I said.

I’d always thought I had the most boring job known to man, until I met Video Game Rack Fighter and learned that she was the Assistant to the Assistant of the Vice President for Corporate Assistance at Drying Paint Media, the world’s premiere production studio for drying paint videos.

I knew it was kismet because we’ve both long regretted not following our dreams, mine of becoming a writer, hers of designing video games, so now we support each other and pursue our passions in our spare time.

“Blandie made this post four days ago,” I said. “Wow, I hope she’s ok.”

“Why?” VGRF asked. “You’ve still got the hots for that bimbo or something?”

“What? No.”

The photo of Blandie that BQB kept. She literally made this face at our hero at all times throughout the tenure of their relationship.

The photo of Blandie that BQB kept. She literally made this face at our hero at all times throughout the tenure of their relationship.

“He didn’t throw away the photo of her when you moved in to BQB HQ,” Alien Jones said to VGRF.

That little green rat.

VGRF looked hurt.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” I said. “I don’t know why I didn’t throw her photo away. I don’t have any feelings for her anymore. It’s just, we were together a long time. Somehow it didn’t seem right to throw her out with the trash.”

“As she did with you,” Alien Jones said.


“It’s ok,” VGRF said. “I get it. I might have a photo hanging around of my ex too.”

“What the shit?!”  I yelled. “You need to burn that shit immediately!”

VGRF was pissed at that response.

“Um, I mean, ok, so we’ve both come to an agreement that it’s possible to wish an ex well and not still be in love with them. And you know what? Screw Blandie. If she needs to be rescued from brain chomping bastards then she should have thought about that before she let this prime side of beef go.”

“No,” VGRF said.


“No,” VGRF repeated. “She’s still a human being.”

“I can tell you some stories that would change your mind about that.”

“It doesn’t matter,” VGRF said. “She’s a person. Whether it’s your ex or some random stranger, I’ll never be able to live with myself knowing someone was eaten alive by zombies and I could have done something to stop it.”

“Babe, no,” I said. “We’ve got a good set up here. We’ve got the whole run of a store full of supplies. The hall is full of undead beasts ready to sink their teeth into us. No. Absolutely not. We’re staying put.”

“If you don’t go, then I’ll go on my own,” VGRF said. “If we let Blandie die, then we’re no better than the monsters we’re hiding from.”

I was quiet for a moment, thinking about what to say.

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll go by myself. I won’t allow you to die for her.”

I felt my heart racing. VGRF’s cheeks looked a little flush as well.

She slapped me across the face.

“Damn it, man! Where you go, I go. I’ll never abandon you and that’s the last I’ll hear of it!”

Alien Jones sucked on a straw attached to a two liter bottle of soda and watched us like he was at a movie theater and we were the coming attractions.


I brushed my hand over the spot on my cheek where VGRF slapped me.

“I love it when you play rough, baby.”

I don’t know what it was. Maybe it was the danger. The possibility that we were considering a mission that could get us both killed, but our engines were at full throttle.

“Yeah, you like that?” VGRF asked as she ripped my shirt open, sending buttons flying everywhere. “Then take me right here, right now you sexy bitch!”

“All right I’m out,” Alien Jones said as he walked off toward the deli. “I wonder if there’s any pastrami.”

VGRF pressed her lips against mine, pushed her tongue inside my mouth and gave me the longest, most passionate kiss we’d ever exchanged in our entire relationship.

“MMmph, baby,” I said as I pulled my head back. “Hang on. I need to call someone.”

“Are you kidding me?!”






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