The End of the World Sucks by Sharon Trembley

This is a genre blender book that might be compared to Lord of the Flies meets Let the Right One In in a post-zombie apocalyptic world. Don’t worry though, it’s about the people even though there are elements of horror.

Zombies, a Vampire, or her fellow Man – Which is most likely to kill Vanna Ames? Who can she trust?

After surviving a whole month past the End of the World by hiding and staying quiet, recent college graduate and fashion retail employee, Vanna, luckily finds others who have gathered together as a community for their mutual survival on a college campus.

Although claiming to be a democratic society, tempers become frayed, decisions defy logic, and rules are broken. Further emboldened by the lack of society and law, some even gain a sense of entitlement because they are self-labeled heroes.

Now that all the rules have changed, a vampire arrives with a deal – his help for blood. An equally beneficial offer or a Faustian bargain?

As the community’s flaws grow, Vanna must decide whether to stick with her own kind in relative safety, or reject their community service nightmare, risk her life, and appeal to a vampire who claims his only interest is human blood.

And for the Author Blog In, here’s an excerpt to give a better idea of Vanna’s character because she is a character.  This occurs after Vanna hears gun shots early in the book and goes for a walk to find out what happened -

When she reached a point where two rolls of chain-link were joined together with some twisted wire, Vanna saw her. If she had seen that dress before, she would have remembered.
Muumuus were made for a woman of this size. Displaying a cheery, floral print provided no slimming effects, but proudly declared big and beautiful. Along with the turquoise, orange, and pink poly-blend tent, she also wore a pair of nude knee highs, and filthy, pink terry scuff slippers, and large, turquoise-colored plastic earrings with a matching chunky bracelet.
The woman had fallen on her side facing the fence, and like most of the corpses, her eyes remained forever open. Vanna thought the zombies didn’t blink, so that might be why their eyes turned that spotty white color.
Even with a visible gunshot wound to her face, Vanna could see the trivial details that further defined who this used to be. The woman’s short, not-so-natural blond hair was arranged into a crown of curlsframing her face. She also had heavy blue eye shadow still caked all the way up to her plucked, then redrawn with brown pencil, eyebrows.
Her lower face was grimy, Vanna couldn’t confirm her expectation of coordinating lipstick to match her screaming pink nail polish, brightly visible on the tips of her dirt-caked fingers from a distance. Vanna’sconstant fearful imagination made the gunk smeared on the zombie’s lips still appear fresh, wet and red, when she knew it had been there for weeks.