Sneak Peek: Bonus

As promised, here is a bonus sneak peek at "Zoe Thanatos." This snippet is from Chapter 7: The New Day.

     “Reproduction units?” she reiterated.
     “For procreation and regeneration,” he clarified.
     “You’re able to regenerate?” She had seen plenty of science fiction movies and television shows where people were able to grow or regenerate internal body parts, but it always remained in the realm of science fiction.
     “It’s how we live for so long,” he answered nonchalantly. Of course he would have been used to such technological advances.
     “Okay, and procreation? Is everyone a test tube baby?”
     He looked at her strangely, the colloquialism not quite registering. “Test tube baby?”
     She felt dumb for even having suggested it. It sounded much worse out loud than in her head. “Um, it’s a term, a pejorative really, for when an egg is fertilized outside of the body ... like in a laboratory.”
     “Oh, I see. We don’t have such a crude name for it but yes. It’s how we control the population.”
     Zoe was gobsmacked. “So what about... You don’t...” she trailed off. Her cheeks warmed as they filled with a rush of blood. “Do you have sex?”
     She immediately regretted the question. The rush of blood to her head intensified. She could practically see her skin turning red in her peripheral vision. It wasn’t as if she was this forthcoming with every person she spoke to.
     Evan cleared his throat and took a sip of water. Zoe could just barely make out what appeared to be a smile that partially concealed and distorted behind the glass.
     “Sorry,” she rushed. “Of course you shouldn’t answer. I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I asked that.” ‘Oh god, I wish I was dead.’ Her face was flushed hot and a bead of sweat was forming at her hairline. Oh how she wished she had said anything else or could at least disappear into thin air.
     She didn’t dare make eye contact with him. Instead, she pretended to be suddenly fascinated with her purse as though she were looking for something absolutely imperative to her survival. A new face might have done the trick. Her hands moved absentmindedly over her belongings hoping one of them would provide a distraction from the moment.
     His hand was on hers before her mind could even register what was happening. It was tan and very soft, but strong. A few veins made soft hills under the skin and a smattering of lightly colored hair grew down the side of his hand and over his knuckles. His fingernails were short and clean, a pleasing fact that made an impression somewhere in the back of her mind. She had not even noticed him get up from his seat across the table and sit next to her on the couch.

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