You’d have to be dead five days yourself before you’d even consider going to the movies with a decomposing corpse. Once upon a timemaybe at the very beginning of the plague, maybe a dozen years inyou swore you’d never, ever date a zombie. Worst of all, the human male appears to have impaired her ability to think clearly. Sure, you’re deep in the love bubble with your rottie hottie now, but it hasn’t always been this way. Now Hattie, the consummate professional, is acting like a single girl at the end of the twentieth century: self-conscious, klutzy and unable to form a coherent sentence without babbling. Granted access to the inner sanctum of zombaceuticals, she meets an actual, living, breathing M-A-N. Her practical how-to impresses the CEO of the largest drug company in the world, and before she knows it, Hattie, a reporter for a downmarket tabloid that specializes in conspiracy theories, is sitting down with the woman who single-handedly invented the zombie-behavioral-modification market. So she writes "The Girls' Guide to Dating Zombies" to help her fellow single women navigate the zombie-relationship waters. Hattie Cross knows what you're thinking: Zombie sex? Epercent of human males into zombies, it's statistically impossible to meet-let alone date-the remaining 0.00001 percent. Her practical how-to impresses the CEO of the largest drug company in the world, and before she knows it, Hattie, a reporter for a downmarket tabloid that specializes.
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