Daisy raised the Desert Eagle with trembling hands, taking aim at her husband's forehead. No. Not her husband. The walking corpse across the lawn was NOT her husband. She squared her stance, both hands on the pistol to contain her shaking, and blinked back her tears. As he staggered towards her, she whispered through gritted teeth, "I love you," and pulled the trigger.
Ok, Now, I don't know about you, but, this has piqued my interest. AND it also made me think more about the book I've been stuck on that just a small part popped into my head awhile ago.
But, I definitely want to read more about Daisy!