Warm Bodies 温暖的尸体 [平装] 下载 mobi epub pdf 电子书 2024

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　　一场末日浩劫后的未来，神秘的病毒毁灭了文明，受害者丧失过去的记忆，变身为吃活人的僵尸，幸存的人类建立起坚固的高墙堡垒，以防止饥饿的僵尸们，成群结队闯进来猎食…。然而，这种看似传统活尸片的背景设定，却因男主角R的出现而颠覆一切！R是个没有记忆、心跳的僵尸，却怀抱着许多梦想，他的内心世界充满惊奇与渴望。某日R正在猎食人类时，竟然煞到了一位温暖、灿烂的活生生女孩茱莉，R不但没吃掉她的脑袋，还决定救她一命，让她免于遭受R的僵尸同伴吞噬。 对原本形如槁木死灰的R而言，茱莉的出现，简直是苍灰阴郁中一抹奔放艳丽的色彩。于是一段紧张而又异常温柔的甜蜜关系就此展开。
　　R悄悄把茱莉带回他称为家的地方，即一座满布僵尸的机场，并让她躲在一架废弃的767波音客机上，里面有他到处搜集而来的“宝藏”，包括黑胶唱片、雪景水晶球、乐器等。接下来的几天，他们在这个隐匿处意外地共度了惬意的日子，在不知不觉之中，活泼的茱莉唤起R遗忘已久的人性情感，而她也开始了解到他不只是个慢动作、眼神呆滞的行尸走肉。
　　茱莉很困惑自己对于R的感情，于是带着复杂情绪返回人类城市。她父亲是无情的僵尸猎人，领导人类大军捍卫他们仅存的高墙家园。同时，害相思病的R开始产生前所未有的改变，他相信自己与茱莉的相知相惜能够拯救无论是生是死的人类，不过他出现在她家门口时，很快就掀起活人和僵尸（以及皮包骨）之间的全面性混战，而这也威胁到这一对奇迹恋人未来能否在一起的可贵机会。
　　这种事从没发生过，不但不合逻辑，也违背了规矩，不但改变了R，也改变他的僵尸同伴，甚至让死气沉沉的世界出现了生机。然而，在那阴森腐败的世界里，想要完成梦想，他们还需要一场革命……

内容简介

R is a young man with an existential crisis--he is a zombie. He shuffles through an America destroyed by war, social collapse, and the mindless hunger of his undead comrades, but he craves something more than blood and brains. He can speak just a few grunted syllables, but his inner life is deep, full of wonder and longing. He has no memories, noidentity, and no pulse, but he has dreams.
After experiencing a teenage boy's memories while consuming his brain, R makes an unexpected choice that begins a tense, awkward, and stragely sweet relationship with the victim's human girlfriend. Julie is a blast of color in the otherwise dreary and gray landscape that surrounds R. His decision to protect her will transform not only R, but his fellow Dead, and perhaps their whole lifeless world.
Scary, funny, and surprisingly poignant, Warm Bodies is about being alive, being dead, and the blurry line in between.

　　《温暖的尸体》讲述了一个叫做“R”的僵尸和一个他杀死的人类的女友之间的浪漫关系，这段关系引发了连锁反应，不仅改变了他和他的僵尸伙伴，也改变了整个僵尸世界。

作者简介

Isaac Marion was born near Seattle in 1981 and has lived in and around that city ever since. Deciding to forgo college in favor of direct experience, he dived into writing while still in high school and self-published three terrible novels before finally hitting his stride with Warm Bodies, his first published work. He currently splits his time between writing in Seattle and hunting inspiration on cross-country RV trips. Visit IsaacMarion.com.

精彩书评

“I never thought I could care so passionately for a zombie. Isaac Marion has created the most unexpected romantic lead I've ever encountered, and rewritten the entire concept of what it means to be a zombie in the process. This story stayed with me long after I was done reading it. I eagerly await the next book by Isaac Marion.”
(Stephenie Meyer, #1 New York Times Bestselling author of the Twilight series)

“A mesmerising evolution of a classic contemporary myth.”
(Simon Pegg, New York Times bestselling author of Nerd Do Well)

“Warm Bodies is a terrific book—a compelling literary fantasy which is also a strange and affecting pop-culture parable.”
(Nick Harkaway, author of The Gone-Away World)

“Isaac Marion has a great new voice that hooks you from page one and accomplishes the impossible: it makes you care about young zombie love. Warm Bodies is a terrific read.”
(Josh Bazell, New York Times bestselling author of Beat the Reaper)

“Enormous fun.”
(Marie Claire (UK))

“Wryly playful, cinematic, and ultimately moving.”
(Time Out London)

“Has there been a more sympathetic monster since Frankenstein's?”
(The Financial Times)

“It’s got the boarded-up strongholds and mob mentality of Night of the Living Dead—but also romance. As the evil thing resists its evil nature, the book neuters zombies in the same way Stephanie Meyer did vampires.”
(Time Out NY)

“If you haven't caught on to Isaac Marion's writing yet, you're really missing out.”
(About.com)

“In elegant, evocative prose, Marion has fashioned the world’s most unlikely romance in a story that is by turns harrowing, poignant, and tender. At the last, the reader is reminded that we are all ultimately human, whether living or dead. Utterly charming.”
(Library Journal (starred review))

前言/序言

I AM DEAD, but it’s not so bad. I’ve learned to live with it. I’m sorry I can’t properly introduce myself, but I don’t have a name anymore. Hardly any of us do. We lose them like car keys, forget them like anniversaries. Mine might have started with an “R,” but that’s all I have now. It’s funny because back when I was alive, I was always forgetting other people’s names. My friend “M” says the irony of being a zombie is that everything is funny, but you can’t smile, because your lips have rotted off.
None of us are particularly attractive, but death has been kinder to me than some. I’m still in the early stages of decay. Just the gray skin, the unpleasant smell, the dark circles under my eyes. I could almost pass for a Living man in need of a vacation. Before I became a zombie I must have been a businessman, a banker or broker or some young temp learning the ropes, because I’m wearing fairly nice clothes. Black slacks, gray shirt, red tie. M makes fun of me sometimes. He points at my tie and tries to laugh, a choked, gurgling rumble deep in his gut. His clothes are holey jeans and a plain white T-shirt. The shirt is looking pretty macabre by now. He should have picked a darker color.
We like to joke and speculate about our clothes, since these final fashion choices are the only indication of who we were before we became no one. Some are less obvious than mine: shorts and a sweater, skirt and a blouse. So we make random guesses.
You were a waitress. You were a student. Ring any bells?
It never does.
No one I know has any specific memories. Just a vague, vestigial knowledge of a world long gone. Faint impressions of past lives that linger like phantom limbs. We recognize civilization—buildings, cars, a general overview—but we have no personal role in it. No history. We are just here. We do what we do, time passes, and no one asks questions. But like I’ve said, it’s not so bad. We may appear mindless, but we aren’t. The rusty cogs of cogency still spin, just geared down and down till the outer motion is barely visible. We grunt and groan, we shrug and nod, and sometimes a few words slip out. It’s not that different from before.
But it does make me sad that we’ve forgotten our names. Out of everything, this seems to me the most tragic. I miss my own and I mourn for everyone else’s, because I’d like to love them, but I don’t know who they are.
There are hundreds of us living in an abandoned airport outside some large city. We don’t need shelter or warmth, obviously, but we like having the walls and roofs over our heads. Otherwise we’d just be wandering in an open field of dust somewhere, and that would be horrifying. To have nothing at all around us, nothing to touch or look at, no hard lines whatsoever, just us and the gaping maw of the sky. I imagine that’s what being full-dead is like. An emptiness vast and absolute.
I think we’ve been here a long time. I still have all my flesh, but there are elders who are little more than skeletons with clinging bits of muscle, dry as jerky. Somehow it still extends and contracts, and they keep moving. I have never seen any of us “die” of old age. Left alone with plenty of food, maybe we’d “live” forever, I don’t know. The future is as blurry to me as the past. I can’t seem to make myself care about anything to the right or left of the present, and the present isn’t exactly urgent. You might say death has relaxed me.
I am riding the escalators when M finds me. I ride the escalators several times a day, whenever they move. It’s become a ritual. The airport is derelict, but the power still flickers on sometimes, maybe flowing from emergency generators stuttering deep underground. Lights flash and screens blink, machines jolt into motion. I cherish these moments. The feeling of things coming to life. I stand on the steps and ascend like a soul into Heaven, that sugary dream of our childhoods, now a tasteless joke.
After maybe thirty repetitions, I rise to find M waiting for me at the top. He is hundreds of pounds of muscle and fat draped on a six-foot-five frame. Bearded, bald, bruised and rotten, his grisly visage slides into view as I crest the staircase summit. Is he the angel that greets me at the gates? His ragged mouth is oozing black drool.
He points in a vague direction and grunts, “City.”
I nod and follow him.
We are going out to find food. A hunting party forms around us as we shuffle toward town. It’s not hard to find recruits for these expeditions, even if no one is hungry. Focused thought is a rare occurrence here, and we all follow it when it manifests. Otherwise we’d just be standing around and groaning all day. We do a lot of standing around and groaning. Years pass this way. The flesh withers on our bones and we stand here, waiting for it to go. I of Warm Bodies 温暖的尸体 [平装] 下载 mobi epub pdf txt 电子书 格式

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书质量不错，应该正品

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非常好，正版也便宜，网购确实给读者带来了方便。送货师傅态度也很好的，还来哦 喜欢读书，喜欢在京东买书!说到读书的滋味，众生深有感叹；太苦了，不知何时是尽头，很少从中找到乐趣。其实，读书是苦与乐的交响曲，苦中有乐，乐中有苦。 首先说读书苦的一种滋味。每天天微亮，我们都从暖烘烘的被窝中钻出来，匆匆赶到学校。上早自习，规规矩矩听好每一节课，然后领到大堆作业，回家埋头苦做，常常熬到深夜，连吃饭，睡觉都得计算时间，如果遇到难题，考试砸锅，受到批评……那就更惨了。读书可谓苦也。然而静下心来想想，其实不然，凡是做学问的，都要经受这一锻炼。《送东阳马生序》中，宋濂小时候喜欢读书，家里穷，没有办法买书来读，常常向藏书的人家去借，借来就亲手抄写，计算着日子按期归还。冬天天气十分寒冷，砚台里的墨汁结成冰，手指冻的不能伸屈，也不敢懈怠。他从师求学的时候，经常背着书籍，拖着鞋子，行走在深山大谷里。严冬刮着猛烈的大风，大雪深达几尺，脚上的皮肤冻裂了也不知道，可见，读书是要吃苦的了，因此，我们要有吃苦的准备。 其次说读书乐的一种滋味吧，读书虽然是件很苦的事，但乐趣却不少。例如：当你听着老师娓娓动听的讲课的时候，当你忽然出一道难题的时候，当你考试取得好成绩的时候，当你和同学一起参加活动的时候……难道你没有兴奋过，快乐过吗？其实，读书的乐趣要有的，当你看着自己读书的以摞摞书，当你能用所学知识与别人展开辩论……你没有欣慰吗？这就是乐，它就在我们身边。 苦和乐是相随相伴的，有苦必有乐，有乐必有苦。革命前辈谢觉哉说过：“快乐是从艰苦中来的。”吴伯萧也在《记一辆纺车》中写道：“与困难作斗争，其乐无穷。”我们今天有了苦，就会有学习中的苦和今后生活的乐。现在许多老师把上课当成游戏，很多学生把读书当成找乐。学习在轻松愉快的气氛中进行，这种做法值得效仿。 总之， “读书破万卷,下笔如有神.” “读万卷书,行万里路.”由于对书籍的酷爱,遂使我对于写作产生浓厚的兴趣.万籁俱寂的夜里,独坐书桌前,捻开台灯,在茕然的灯光下,一叠稿纸,一枝笔,成为我最忠实的倾诉对象,透过清滤的笔尖,洒然挥发心坎的抱负和理想。 不知是什么时候,我迷迷糊糊地被它网住,成为它的裙下臣,高歌此心永不渝。如果有人问我心在何处,我将毫不犹豫地回答:我的心在书域中那早已失去钥匙的铁箱里,永远不在索回。 书是茫茫人海中意识的罗盘,是智慧的绿源,它能增长我们的见闻,改变人的气质,抚慰受创伤的心灵。因此古人所谓“富者因书而贵,贫者因书而富”的金言。固然只是一卷薄薄的书本(指好书),但它所赋予的益处,也只有爱书人才能体会得出。读书是艰苦的，但乐在其中。只要，我们勇于读书，善于读书，并从中找到乐趣，我想我们会在读书中取得成功的呵呵，老是在这里买书，天天看有没有特价啊，京东多搞点活动啊，我们会支持你的哇！

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很喜歡的一本書。我是看了電影再買小說來重溫的。有很多的細節很多的心裡獨白。感觸很多。

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提高人的综合能力；读书可豪情满怀，使人精神更加振奋；读书可泣人泪下，

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正好骚到了你的痒处。这种“柳暗花明又一村”的感觉你那么舒服，那么的自在。

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读书对于不同的人有不同的乐趣，对于从事体力劳动来说，读书一种休闲；对于从事脑力劳动的人来说，

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　 (职业没有贵贱，我们要做的是不管什么职业都能用心去做，都能把它出色的完成，就像那句笑也是一天哭也是一天，我们何必选择哭呢？同样的道理，认真也是一做不认真也是一做，而对于工作而言，认真与不认真对结果产生的差异是非常明显的，既然这样，我们又何必对自己不满意的工作敷衍了事呢？

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这本小说我找了好久！！好高兴在京东上找到了它！！印刷不错！里面也很好！！

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书质量不错，应该正品

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