Welcome to the Chaos!

Some ideas sound brilliant when they first pop into your head.

This was one of them.

The Green Room was supposed to be simple. A quiet little corner of my website where readers could stop by once a month to catch up on what I was working on, meet some of the characters from my books, and maybe get a little behind-the-scenes gossip. Fun. Relaxed. Controlled.

I really should have known better. Especially when Frankie found out about it.

“Excuse me?”

I looked up from my laptop.

Frankie stood in the doorway; one hand braced against the frame and the other planted firmly on her hip.

“No.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “I haven't even said anything yet.”

“You're here.”

“And?”

“That's enough.”

She strolled into the room anyway, because apparently doors, boundaries, and the wishes of the woman responsible for her continued fictional existence meant absolutely nothing to her.

The Green Room itself had turned out better than I'd imagined. There were comfortable couches, oversized chairs, a long table near the back, shelves filled with books, and, most importantly, a coffee station.

Duke Gibson had claimed that corner almost immediately.

He stood with his back to us, pouring coffee into a mug while doing an admirable job of pretending Frankie wasn't there.

Frankie glanced around.

“This is nice.”

“Thank you.”

“Little boring.”

Duke stopped pouring.

I closed my eyes.

“Don't encourage her,” I warned.

“I didn't say anything,” he muttered.

Frankie walked farther into the room, inspecting everything as though I'd invited her to perform an official evaluation.

“You need music.”

“No.”

“A bar.”

“No.”

“Karaoke machine?”

“Absolutely fucking not.”

Duke turned around, coffee in hand. “I'm with her on that one.”

Frankie looked wounded. “You haven't even heard me sing.”

“Don't need to.”

“I have an excellent voice.”

Somewhere in the hallway, something crashed.

Duke looked toward the door.

I looked toward the door.

Frankie suddenly became extremely interested in the ceiling.

I narrowed my eyes.

“Frankie.”

“What?”

“What was that?”

“No idea.”

Another crash.

This one was followed by a low, unmistakable groan.

Duke slowly lowered his coffee. “What the hell was that?”

Frankie smiled.

I knew that smile.

It was the smile of a woman who had done something she absolutely should not have done and felt precisely zero remorse about it.

“Frankie.”

“Yes?”

“What's in the hallway?”

“Nothing.”

Something shuffled past the open doorway.

Duke stared.

I stared.

A second later, it shuffled backward.

A man, or what had once been one, stood in the doorway. His clothes were torn. His skin was gray. His head tilted slightly to one side as he stared into the room.

Silence descended.

I slowly turned toward Frankie. “Why is there a zombie in my Green Room?”

Her mouth dropped open. “That is incredibly rude.”

“It's a zombie.”

“His name is Kevin.”

“I don't care what his name is!”

Kevin groaned.

Frankie immediately pointed at me. “See? Now you've hurt his feelings.”

“His feelings?”

“Yes.”

“He's dead.”

“Undead. There's a difference.”

Duke took a long drink of coffee.

I couldn't blame him.

I pointed towards the hallway. “Get him out.”

Frankie gasped. “Absolutely not.”

“Frankie.”

“He's my emotional support zombie.”

I stared at her.

Duke stared at her.

Kevin groaned again.

“Your what?” I asked.

“My emotional support zombie.” She slipped an arm through Kevin's and gave me a look that suggested I was the unreasonable person in this conversation. “I have been through some shit. Most of which, I might add, is your fault.”

There it was.

I pointed a finger at her. “Do not start blaming the author.”

“Who else am I supposed to blame?”

“Life?”

“You write my life.”

Damn it.

Duke made a sound suspiciously like a laugh behind his coffee mug.

Frankie whipped around. “See? Coffee Guy agrees with me.”

“My name is Duke.”

“I know.”

“Then why did you call me Coffee Guy?”

“Because you're standing by the coffee.”

Duke stared at her for a long moment before looking at me.

“You created her?”

“Yes.”

“On purpose?”

Frankie grinned.

I sighed.

This was supposed to be a quiet place.

Once a month, I had planned to open the doors, invite readers inside, talk about books, share news, answer questions, and maybe let a character or two stop by.

Instead, less than ten minutes after opening, Frankie had insulted the décor, requested alcohol and karaoke, smuggled in a zombie, and annoyed Duke.

Kevin shuffled toward the couch and sat down.

Something squished.

I decided I didn't want to know.

Frankie dropped onto the cushion beside him and kicked her feet onto the coffee table.

“Okay,” she announced. “What's next?”

“Next?”

“Yeah. What are we doing?”

“We aren't doing anything.”

She frowned. “This is The Green Room.”

“Yes.”

“Where characters hang out.”

“Occasionally.”

“Talk to readers.”

“Sometimes.”

“Answer questions.”

“That was the idea.”

“Talk about upcoming books?”

“Yes.”

“Share secrets?”

“No.”

“Embarrassing author stories?”

“Absolutely not.”

She looked toward Duke.

He shrugged. “I'd read them.”

“Traitor.”

Frankie's grin widened.

I suddenly had a very bad feeling about this.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway.

Then voices. Several voices.

I looked toward the doorway.

Frankie looked toward the doorway.

Duke poured himself more coffee.

“Frankie.”

“Hmm?”

“Who else did you tell about this place?”

She gave me the sweetest smile I'd ever seen. “Oh, pretty much everyone.”

Before I could respond, a tall man appeared in the doorway.

Sebastian Thorne stopped dead. His gaze drifted around the room, taking in Duke at the coffee station, Frankie sprawled across the couch, and finally Kevin sitting beside her.

He stared at the zombie. Kevin stared back.

For several long seconds, neither moved.

Then Sebastian looked at me. “There is a corpse on your sofa.”

Frankie immediately sat forward. “His name is Kevin.”

Sebastian's expression didn't change. “That does not make the situation less concerning.”

“He's my emotional support zombie.”

A beat of silence followed.

Sebastian looked at me again.

I held up both hands. “I had nothing to do with it.”

“You literally had everything to do with it,” Frankie said.

“Not helping.”

Another figure appeared behind Sebastian.

Joey leaned around him, trying to see what had stopped him in the doorway. “Are you going in, or are you planning to live there?”

Sebastian stepped aside.

Joey walked into the room.

She saw Duke.

Saw me.

Then her gaze landed on Frankie.

She stopped.

Her eyes shifted to Kevin.

Then back to Frankie.

“Frankie.”

“What?”

“Why is there a zombie on the couch?”

Frankie smiled brightly. “That's Kevin.”

Joey closed her eyes for a second.

“Of course it is.”

“Emotional support zombie.”

“Of course he is.”

I pointed toward Joey. “Thank you. Finally, someone who understands what I'm dealing with.”

Joey gave me a look. “You created her.”

Frankie burst out laughing.

“Why does everyone keep bringing that up?”

“Because it's relevant,” Joey said.

Duke nodded from the coffee station. “Very relevant.”

I glared at both of them.

Frankie patted the cushion on her other side. “Come sit with us.”

“No.”

“Kevin doesn't bite.”

Joey stared at her.

Frankie hesitated.

“Well...”

“Frankie.”

“Probably.”

Joey immediately headed for the chair farthest from the couch.

Smart woman.

Sebastian, however, was still standing near the doorway, watching Kevin with the wary expression of a man who had lived for three centuries and apparently still hadn't seen everything.

Frankie noticed.

Of course, she noticed.

“You can come in, Dracula.”

Sebastian's gaze snapped to hers.

Joey muttered, “And here we go.”

“My name is Sebastian.”

“I know.”

“Then use it.”

Frankie tilted her head. “You're really a vampire?”

“Yes.”

“How old are you?”

Sebastian's expression hardened.

I knew where this was going.

“Frankie.”

She ignored me.

“Like... old-old?”

Duke turned away, but I caught the smile.

Sebastian stared at her. “I am three hundred years old.”

Frankie's eyes widened.

Oh, shit.

I pointed at her. “Do not.”

“I didn't do anything.”

“You're thinking about it.”

“Can he turn into a bat?”

Sebastian closed his eyes.

Joey covered her face.

Duke quietly pushed another mug under the coffee maker.

“I cannot turn into a bat.”

“Mist?”

“No.”

“Do you sleep in a coffin?”

“No.”

“Sparkle?”

Sebastian opened his eyes.

Even Kevin seemed to go quiet.

I leaned toward Frankie. “You might want to stop now.”

She considered Sebastian for another second. “Fine.”

I almost relaxed.

Then she looked at Kevin. “Think he'd let us try holy water?”

“Frankie!”

Joey started laughing.

Duke handed Sebastian a cup of coffee.

Sebastian accepted it without a word.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

“Figured you needed it.”

“I need something considerably stronger.”

“See?” Frankie pointed triumphantly. “I told you this place needs a bar.”

“No bar!”

More voices drifted from somewhere down the hallway.

A door opened.

Then another.

Footsteps approached.

Lots of them.

I slowly turned toward Frankie.

She was grinning.

“Frankie.”

“What?”

“How many people did you invite?”

She considered the question.

“All of them?”

I stared at her.

Duke retreated to the safety of his coffee station.

Joey settled deeper into her chair, apparently deciding she might as well enjoy the show.

Sebastian stood holding his coffee and looking as though immortality had suddenly become far less appealing.

Kevin leaned sideways against Frankie.

And just like that, my quiet little Green Room was gone.

Frankie leaned back against the couch, looking entirely too pleased with herself. “Come on,” she said. “You didn't really think you were going to control this place, did you?”

Apparently, I had. That had been my first mistake.

Welcome to The Green Room.

Characters from every world are welcome.

Apparently zombies are, too.

God help me.