Like post-apocalyptic literature like Dissidence? Then you've got to check out
Tomorrow Land by Mari Mancusi!
Can true love survive the end of the world?
Imagine finding your first love, only to be ripped apart by the apocalypse. Peyton Anderson will never forget the day she was forced to make a choice--between her family--and Chris Parker, the boy she'd given her heart. And now, four years later, as she steps from the fallout shelter and into a dead and broken world, he's the only thing on her mind.
All Chris "Chase" Parker wanted was to take Peyton away and keep her safe from harm. But he waited for hours in the rain on judgment day and she never showed--breaking his heart without ever telling him why.
Now the two of them have been thrown together once again, reluctant chaperones of a group of orphan children in a post-apocalyptic world where the dead still walk...and feed. As they begin their pilgrimage to the last human outpost on Earth, can they find a way to let go of old hurts and find the love they lost--all the while attempting to save what's left of the human race?
Tomorrow Land has been receiving some excellent reviews:
"An apocalyptic coming of age futuristic romance that does the horror film genre proud."
PNR Reviews
"There is action, there is love and there are zombies. What more can you ask for?"
Book Binge
"Marianne Mancusi has returned with an edgy all-new tale, filled with fast-paced action and a heroine strong enough to mold her own destiny."
--SF Scope
"A high-stakes, high-octane tour through a devastating and deftly imagined future. This is Mancusi at the top of her game."
Diana Peterfreund, author of For Darkness Shows the Stars
I even have an excerpt to share with all you lucky people! I know, I know... You're welcome. Enjoy ;)
As Peyton stepped out from the underground bunker, she was immediately struck with wonder at the outside world. After four years inside, she’d forgotten how vast it was, how beautiful. The sky was painted a vibrant blue, sprinkled with puffy cotton-like clouds. Wildflowers tumbled across sagging porches and poked defiantly through cracked pavement. Her favorite oak tree was still standing, strong and majestic in the center of their front yard, its branches stretching high into the sky, as if to worship the heavens.
The scent of honeysuckle tickled her nose and Peyton sucked in a large breath, delighting in the fresh, clean, and warm air that seemed so much sweeter than the stale re-circulated stuff she’d been stuck breathing for the last four years.
It was strange. For some reason, down in the shelter, she’d always envisioned the outside world to have become a gray wasteland, strangled by stormy clouds that mirrored the loss of humanity below. She’d expected a graveyard, a desolate landscape, a world with acrid winds and a sepia palette. But, it turned out, nature hadn’t mourned man’s destruction after all. If anything, it appeared to be celebrating its newfound freedom from gardeners and landscaping, a once-tamed suburbia transforming into a feral forest full of emerald life.
She stuck out her arms, feeling the warmth of the sun on her skin for the first time in four years. She wanted to skip down the street, dance, cartwheel. Run for ten miles without stopping. Enjoy a world without boundaries after years in a cage.
After doing a little shimmy of joy on the front porch, she stopped herself, looking around, self-conscious, even though she knew there was no one to see her. The thought sobered her a bit. This beautiful world would most likely be empty. Or practically so. And now she didn’t even have her mother by her side. A new emotion gripped her heart: sadness, the beauty of the world fading as reality sank in. Though she’d mourned her previous life for four years on the inside, it was different to suddenly experience its loss firsthand. Back in the shelter this reality had seemed unreal, distant. Like something from a film. Actually stepping out into the world and seeing the empty, debris-filled streets, the houses crumbling from years of neglect, made the whole situation a lot more real and a lot harder to swallow.
It was the silence that felt the eeriest. Not that her middle-class suburb had ever been a bustling metropolis, but there had been sounds all the same: the droning of lawnmowers pushed by dads on their days off, the screams and laughter of kids playing wild games of tag, cars streaming down the nearby interstate, beeping away their road rage. Planes flying overhead. Normal, everyday, take-them-for-granted sounds. All were now swept clear by an overwhelming, almost suffocating silence. There wasn’t even birdsong.
A realization she had half-suppressed for too long rose up and choked Peyton. Everyone and everything she knew and loved was gone. Her friends, her teachers—everyone had succumbed. Only her father was left. Out there. Waiting for her. Waiting for her assistance in rebuilding the world he’d known would fail.
She focused on her dilemma. How was she going to get to where he was? His destination had been far, hundreds of miles away, and she truly doubted she could get the rusted old car in their driveway to start. Not that she had any idea how to drive; after the Highway Congestion Act of ‘24, you had to be eighteen to take driver’s education in South Carolina , and she’d been way too young when they’d gone into the bunker. Besides, with no working gas stations and the streets filled with debris, it was probably better not to depend on cars. Maybe she could find a bike or something.
First things first, though. She should find supplies. And while it was tempting to just hit a few of the nearby houses to see what they had in their pantries, it was also too morbid an errand for her to face. She didn’t want to see the remnants of her former neighbors tucked into their beds or lying sprawled on the floor, thank you very much. She’d try to find a store instead.
Steeling herself, she stepped from her porch and set off. Something in the middle of the pavement a short distance away made her pause. A small figure, more than half decayed, lay in the street, its skeletal hands clutching something shredded and pink. It was… a teddy bear. Peyton fell to her knees, bent over, and threw up, suddenly glad her mother wasn’t here to see this. Wondering if perhaps she was the smart one after all.
“God, Peyton, get a grip,” she muttered to herself a moment later, wiping her mouth, embarrassed by her weakness. She’d known it was going to be like this, after all. That she’d have to be strong and push all the horrors to the back of her mind. She didn’t have time to mourn humanity. She couldn’t be distracted by the past. What was done was done, and it didn’t do any good to cry about it. After all, as her dad would say, a Razor Girl didn’t cry. When they were sad, they spit.
Peyton did exactly that. She felt a little bit better, wiped her mouth again, this time with her sleeve. But just as she was about to rise to her feet, her ears caught a sound in the distance. A voice, cutting through the dead air. She froze in her tracks, straining to listen. Was she hearing things? Was it only the wind? Some old holo broadcast set on repeat?
But no. It came again. Real and human and not that far away either.
“Guy! Where’d you go?” the voice cried. “Hey!”
People? Real-life people? Had her father been wrong? Had humanity survived, or at least more than expected? She felt a surge of hope rush through her, then forced herself to temper it. She’d been locked inside for four years. She had no idea what the outside world had become. These people could be savages, rapists, murderers, thieves. Doing whatever it took to survive in their harsh new reality, even if it wasn’t in the best interests of all mankind. Or to her in particular.
Yes, they could be trouble. But then again, they could be able to help her. And Peyton had to admit, at this point she needed all the help she could get. And if they turned out to be no good, well, it wasn’t as if she was incapable of defending herself, thanks to her dad.
Having made her decision, Peyton staggered to her feet and set off down the street as fast as her legs would carry her. Praying for the best, but preparing for the worst. '
Tomorrow Land is now available on: Amazon - Barnes and Noble
Mari was kind enough to join us today to share a little more about herself and her book. And so, let me introduce Mari Mancusi, author of Tomorrow Land!
Two time Emmy award winner Mari Mancusi used to wish she could be a vampire back in high school. But she ended up in another bloodsucking profession--journalism--instead. Today she works as a freelance TV producer and author of books for teens, including the award winning Blood Coven Vampire series published by Penguin Books. When not writing about creatures of the night, Mari enjoys traveling, cooking, goth clubbing, watching cheesy horror movie and her favorite guilty pleasure--videogames. A graduate of Boston University , she lives in Austin , Texas with her husband Jacob, daughter Avalon and dog Mesquite .
What inspired you to write Tomorrow Land?
I love fish out of water stories. I think the best way to explore a new world is by taking a character who doesn’t belong there—and throw her in head first. My heroine, Peyton, has been living in a nuclear fallout shelter for the last four years and has no idea what to expect when the time-lock doors finally open. Her father has prepared her physically to meet the challenges of a zombie-infested world. But waking up to a world filled with monsters and trying to come to terms with that mentally--well, that would be a challenge for any of us. Also, I wanted to play with a Casablanca’esque trope—of two young lovers meeting again after a bitter separation. Chase waited for Peyton in the rain and she never showed—breaking his heart without ever telling him why. Now, four years later, she’s back. And he’s harboring a lot of resentment.
How did you come up with the title?
The book’s characters are on a pilgrimage through a zombie infested wilderness to the supposedly last safe place on Earth—Disney World. So Tomorrow Land
Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?
I think the message is the importance of family in times of trouble. And that family may not be a biological family—but perhaps a group of strangers, bonding together and helping one another. Whether you’re just trying to get through a bad day – or the end of the world! – it’s those personal connections you make that make it not only possible, but worthwhile.
Were there any particular characters in your book that you had a hard time connecting with and writing?
The hero in the story, Chase, is addicted to pain killers in the beginning of the book and it was a challenge to make sure he remained sympathetic, even when he made stupid decisions based on his addiction. But I felt it was important to explore this idea because I think it’s probably pretty realistic. Imagine losing everyone you love—society disintegrating before your eyes filling up with actual monsters. That’s a lot to take in and I bet there would be plenty of people who would take desperate measures to dull the pain and fear.
Do you see yourself in any of your characters?
I think all of my characters have a little bit of “me” in them, though probably the most autobiographical work is my “Love at 11” novel, which is a contemporary story about a TV news producer who wants so hard to make a difference, but is always stuck with the fluff/sensational news stories. I was a TV news producer for years and a lot of that book came out of personal experience.
I believe you have several other works published, as well. Would you mind telling us a little about them?
I recently finished an eight book vampire series called The Blood Coven Vampires for Penguin. The series is more like Buffy than Twilight—with a lot of tongue-in-cheek humor and satire, though there’s a fair share of romance and angst as well. And my newest series, Scorched, is coming out starting in September from Sourcebooks. I consider that my “Terminator with dragons” series. We’re doing a cover reveal soon and I can’t wait for people to see it! The artist has outdone himself.
Which of your works is your favorite? Why?
That’s like picking a favorite child! :) I love them all in different ways. I do have a special place in my heart for my Blood Coven Vampire series since I stayed with them for eight books. It was bittersweet to finally end it and move on.
If you had to choose, which writer would you consider a mentor/inspiration?
Sherrilyn Kenyon, who writes the Dark Hunter series, amongst other books. She took me under her wing when I was a newbie author and has always been so sweet and supportive. She’s also such an inspiration as an author—the way she treats her fans with such love and respect—sometimes staying at bookstores hours after closing just so no one goes home disappointed. If I were ever as big a success as her, I’d want to be like that, too. Because at the end of the day, it’s the readers who matter above everything else.
What book are you reading now?
I’m on Book #5 of Game of Thrones by George R. R. Martin, A Dance with Dragons. I love the HBO series and decided to read through the books, which are even better. Book 5 is the latest in the series and I’m hoping it doesn’t take him too long to finish the next book.
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