How To Make DIY Walking Dead Daryl-Themed Gifts?

An apocalypse driven by natural disasters. Survival of the fittest. Typhoons, floods, deadly cold, scorching heat, earthquakes, tsunamis, insect plagues, acid rain… After struggling through three years of the apocalypse, Nicole Floyd met a brutal death. Miraculously, she woke up and found herself three days before it all began. Nicole seized the advantage to reclaim her storage space, flipping the switch on full-on stockpiling mode. She shopped until she ran out of money, and her storage was packed tight. She also looked for the dog that had saved her life once before. She sharpened her knives, stacked her supplies, and took care of unfinished business. She paid back every debt, whether owed in blood or in kindness. And then, disaster struck. Her right hand gripping a knife and her left stroking the dog, Nicole pressed on through the ruins of a world without order or morals.

On her eighteenth birthday, slave to the Black Night pack Ashley makes a run for it, trying to escape a life of torment and abuse she runs into Daryl.Daryl happens to be the Alpha of Crescent pack and Ashley's mate, something she least expected and whilst their relationship does not get off to the best of starts, they discover that Ashley is the missing Royal. Whilst Ashley starts to learn about her life and what the Royal symbol means, Alpha Daryl's past starts to catch up with him creating a challenging time along the way.

Raymond, an average mechanic, would go any length to satisfy and make his girlfriend happy. He became devoted to granting her an unrealistic wish of a grand wedding. Everything was fine until his girlfriend was zombified alongside in an elite school. To prevent the whole city of Newland from being infected, the mayor authorized an airstrike on the school. Raymond had to find a way to save his zombie girlfriend before the the wipe out

In a world fractured by the "Gray Death," the end didn't come with a whimper, but with the rise of the Beastkin predatory survivors with the strength of monsters and the hearts of kings. Rhea, a trauma intern turned scavenger, has learned the hard way that mercy is a luxury the ruins cannot afford. When she is betrayed by those she loved most and left for dead in a crumbling bakery, her only companion is a soot-covered stranger she pulled from the rubble of Sector 4. She thinks she’s saving a nameless survivor. She has no idea she is nursing the Ghost King back to health. Dominic is the Alpha of the Northern Citadel, an untouchable god of war hunted by his own kind. Broken and hiding behind a mask of amnesia, he watches the woman who saved him with a growing, predatory hunger. She is the "Diamond in the Ash," the same girl who held his hand in a dark pharmacy three years ago when the world first burned. As the heat between them ignites into a passion that threatens to consume the ruins, the shadows are closing in. While Rhea drowns her sorrows in vintage wine and dreams of a touch she thinks she’ll never have, Dominic’s "Men in Black" are quietly securing her borders. He came to find a traitor, but he found a Queen. Now, the Alpha will stop at nothing to reclaim his throne and build a new kingdom, one where the woman who showed him mercy finally gets the crown she deserves. He’s a King in hiding. She’s a healer with a broken heart. Together, they are the apocalypse’s last hope.

“Zelle, don’t worry, I’ll protect you!” Zach caressed her hair as tears fell on her cheeks.   “Y-you—you are not my knight in shining armor… This is not a fairytale!”    Aaron held her hand away from Zach. “I can be your prince if you want to...”    Zelle fell on her knees bursting into tears, “Please stop! I—I don’t want to see you two in one of those boxes too!”   18 people she cares about… 18 days left before her 18th birthday… Each day onward she receives bloody gifts containing disembodied parts… Which candle our Little Zelle will blow on the day of her birthday? “Happy Birthday to me…” ~~~~ * Original Novel * Original Book Cover * Copyrights Reserved

My father died of esophageal cancer. For the final two years of his life, he could barely swallow anything. By the time he passed, he was nothing but skin and bones. The first New Year after his death, he came to my mother in a dream. "I'm starving," he said. "I just want to taste the thick-cut steak you used to make." My mother believed it without question. That very day, she pan-seared a large platter of steak and carried it to his grave. The next morning, she suffered a sudden heart attack and died on the spot. Devastated, I handled my mother's funeral together with my husband. That same night, my husband dreamed of my father as well. "Chester," he said, "I haven't eaten in so long. I want your pâté, served with some strong liquor." When my husband woke up, he bought the finest liver pâté, opened a bottle of single-malt whiskey, and went straight to the grave. However, not long after returning home, he collapsed from acute liver failure. He was rushed to the ICU and died three days later. I was on the brink of collapse myself. I left my daughter in the care of a close friend while I tried to handle the endless wave of tragedy. That evening, my daughter never came home from school. I searched everywhere, and finally, on the road to the cemetery, I found her. She was clutching a bowl of spicy stew, several grilled sausages floating in the broth. "Mom," she said, "Grandpa and I used to eat this all the time. I dreamed he said he was hungry." I finally lost it. I knocked the bowl from her hands and carried her home. That night, my father appeared in my dream once more. "I suffered so much while alive," he said. "Have some pity on me. "New Year's is coming. I want to come home for a meal. Make sure you cook fish." I woke in terror. Holding my daughter, I sat before the three framed portraits for two full days without eating or drinking. On New Year's morning, I realized she was no longer breathing. Clutched tightly in her hand was a packet of spicy dried salmon. I could not believe it. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my mother, her eyes red with worry, said she was going out to buy steak.