12 April 2020

Blast from the Past...A Cold Breath by Elizabeth Monvey

The world has changed. Almost two years after the zombie plague destroyed civilization, the last of mankind is trying to hold on. Remy lives with his father inside the walls of a safe haven, until the night they're attacked by a swarm of walking dead. But when help arrives, he's horrified to discover the haven has been targeted to be destroyed—infected or not. 

Atticus left his home when his lover was bit. Mourning the loss, he looks for something to keep him going. To not give up. He may have stumbled into the wrong group, but he can’t hurt innocents. 

They find each other in the middle of an apocalypse, and although Remy might be wary of the handsome loner, he realizes Atticus might just be the person he needs to stay safe.

If only he didn’t feel so attracted to the man.

Q & A 

      1.       Did you plot this book out or write wherever an idea took you?

This was definitely one of those books that came one scene at a time. I didn’t have a plot, other than I wanted to write a zombie apocalypse set in the mountains.

      2.       What was your hardest scene to write in this book?

I think the beginning, setting up the world. Once I got my heroes into the mountain it practically wrote itself.

      3.       Since the publication, what would you say has improved in your writing?

I hope being more active in my writing voice, versus passive writing. It’s sometimes very hard because we tend to write how we talk.

      4.       Do you believe a book cover plays an important role in the selling process?

Yes, very much! I love this cover, with the water in the mountains. The coloring of the cover gives a sense of cold breath, like the title, with the muted blues and greys.  The artist did a fantastic job.

      5.       Any advice you would like to give to your younger self?

Just keep writing. Write, write, write.


“Who do you think he was?” he asked.


“The zombie that almost made me lunch. Who do you think he was that he ended up in a closet like that?”

“I don’t know,” Atticus replied. “Does it matter?”

“Yeah. I think it does.”


“Because I bet he never thought he’d end up stuck in a closet and forgotten about. Just like we can’t imagine where we’ll be when our time comes. I think what keeps us from becoming completely apathetic is knowing who we were and remembering that we were once human.”

“Isn’t dead just … dead?”

“But he had a name. A family. Friends.”

“Maybe he was bit, and his friends put him in the closet to protect themselves before locking up and walking away. If that’s the case, they weren’t really friends because they didn’t put him out of his misery. They left him to turn.”

“Or they cared too much and couldn’t do it.”

Atticus pursed his lips. “Sentiments get you killed in this world.”

“So, you care for no one? For nothing?”

“I care about myself.”

Remy frowned because his statement didn’t jive with his actions. “If you’re still around if I’m ever bit, will you put me out of my misery? I don’t want to be one of them.”

“You won’t end up like that.”

“You don’t know that. Promise me and I’ll promise you the same. If you get bit, I’ll give you the permanent death.”

“Just stop it!” Atticus shouted, banging his hand on the wheel. “I told you. You won’t end up like that, and I won’t have to do something I don’t want to do. Now just drop the fucking subject, okay?”

“Fine. Whatever.”


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