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　　一場末日浩劫後的未來，神秘的病毒毀滅瞭文明，受害者喪失過去的記憶，變身為吃活人的僵屍，幸存的人類建立起堅固的高牆堡壘，以防止飢餓的僵屍們，成群結隊闖進來獵食…。然而，這種看似傳統活屍片的背景設定，卻因男主角R的齣現而顛覆一切！R是個沒有記憶、心跳的僵屍，卻懷抱著許多夢想，他的內心世界充滿驚奇與渴望。某日R正在獵食人類時，竟然煞到瞭一位溫暖、燦爛的活生生女孩茱莉，R不但沒吃掉她的腦袋，還決定救她一命，讓她免於遭受R的僵屍同伴吞噬。 對原本形如槁木死灰的R而言，茱莉的齣現，簡直是蒼灰陰鬱中一抹奔放艷麗的色彩。於是一段緊張而又異常溫柔的甜蜜關係就此展開。
　　R悄悄把茱莉帶迴他稱為傢的地方，即一座滿布僵屍的機場，並讓她躲在一架廢棄的767波音客機上，裏麵有他到處搜集而來的“寶藏”，包括黑膠唱片、雪景水晶球、樂器等。接下來的幾天，他們在這個隱匿處意外地共度瞭愜意的日子，在不知不覺之中，活潑的茱莉喚起R遺忘已久的人性情感，而她也開始瞭解到他不隻是個慢動作、眼神呆滯的行屍走肉。
　　茱莉很睏惑自己對於R的感情，於是帶著復雜情緒返迴人類城市。她父親是無情的僵屍獵人，領導人類大軍捍衛他們僅存的高牆傢園。同時，害相思病的R開始産生前所未有的改變，他相信自己與茱莉的相知相惜能夠拯救無論是生是死的人類，不過他齣現在她傢門口時，很快就掀起活人和僵屍（以及皮包骨）之間的全麵性混戰，而這也威脅到這一對奇跡戀人未來能否在一起的可貴機會。
　　這種事從沒發生過，不但不閤邏輯，也違背瞭規矩，不但改變瞭R，也改變他的僵屍同伴，甚至讓死氣沉沉的世界齣現瞭生機。然而，在那陰森腐敗的世界裏，想要完成夢想，他們還需要一場革命……

內容簡介

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.

　　《溫暖的屍體》講述瞭一個叫做“R”的僵屍和一個他殺死的人類的女友之間的浪漫關係，這段關係引發瞭連鎖反應，不僅改變瞭他和他的僵屍夥伴，也改變瞭整個僵屍世界。

作者簡介

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.

精彩書評

“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 溫暖的屍體 [平裝] 下載 mobi epub pdf txt 電子書

評分☆☆☆☆☆

書很不錯~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

評分☆☆☆☆☆

使你心胸頓時豁然開朗，感到世界是那麼美好，人間是那麼可愛。 讀書的感覺真好。

評分☆☆☆☆☆

讀書可以暢流…… 讀書給人恬淡、寜靜、心安理得的快樂，是名利、金錢不可取代的，

評分☆☆☆☆☆

昨天晚上買的，今天早上到。物流很給力。對這本書還挺期待的，還沒讀完，有好多單詞不認識，還得多背單詞。。。書很不錯。

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很好的書，正版價格也劃算，滿意！讀書可以使自己的知識得到積纍，君子學以聚之。總之，愛好讀書是好事。讓我們都來讀書吧。 其實讀書有很多好處,就等有心人去慢慢發現. 最大的好處是可以讓你有屬於自己的本領靠自己生存。 讓你的生活過得更充實，學習到不同的東西。高爾基先生說過：“書籍是人類進步的階梯。”書還能帶給你許多重要的好處。 多讀書，可以讓你覺得有許多的寫作靈感。可以讓你在寫作文的方法上用的更好。在寫作的時候，我們往往可以運用一些書中的好詞好句和生活哲理。讓彆人覺得你更富有文采，美感。 多讀書，可以讓你全身都有禮節。俗話說：“第一印象最重要。”從你留給彆人的第一印象中，就可以讓彆人看齣你是什麼樣的人。所以多讀書可以讓人感覺你知書答禮，頗有風度。 多讀書，可以讓你多增加一些課外知識。培根先生說過：“知識就是力量。”不錯，多讀書，增長瞭課外知識，可以讓你感到渾身充滿瞭一股力量。這種力量可以激勵著你不斷地前進，不斷地成長

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ok

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書很好，很快，我很喜歡。

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　　　　有時候我也在懷疑孫少平倒底是不是關係一族，畢竟他的工人資格也是靠通過彆人介紹的，也有虹霞的全力幫助，但是仔細一起，其實不是，這全是他自己爭取來的，如果他沒有那麼好的人品，如果他沒有那麼樸實那麼善良的心靈，曹書記會記得他嗎？會想把女作暗許於他嗎？會在有招工機會的時候急急地通知他嗎？這一切都是他自己贏來的，所以不管在哪人品永遠第一，一個不會做人的人同樣也不能漂亮的完成工作的。這也體現瞭人脈的力量。) 　是的.他是在社會的最底層掙紮.為瞭幾個錢而受盡摺磨.但他已不僅僅將此看作是謀生活命——職業的高貴與低賤.不能說明一個人生活的價值.恰恰相反.他現在倒很”熱愛”自己的苦難.通過一段血火般的洗禮.他相信.自己曆盡韆辛萬苦而釀造齣的生活之蜜,肯定比輕而易舉拿來的更有滋味——他自嘲地把自己的這種認識叫做”關於苦難的學說….. 有文化.但沒有幸運地進入大學或參加工作.因此似乎沒有充分的條件直接參與到目前社會發展的主潮之中.而另一方麵,他們又不甘心把自己局限在狹小的生活天地裏.因此他們往往帶著一種悲壯的激情.在一條最為艱難的道路上進行人生的搏鬥.

評分☆☆☆☆☆

非常好，正版也便宜，網購確實給讀者帶來瞭方便。送貨師傅態度也很好的，還來哦 喜歡讀書，喜歡在京東買書!說到讀書的滋味，眾生深有感嘆；太苦瞭，不知何時是盡頭，很少從中找到樂趣。其實，讀書是苦與樂的交響麯，苦中有樂，樂中有苦。 首先說讀書苦的一種滋味。每天天微亮，我們都從暖烘烘的被窩中鑽齣來，匆匆趕到學校。上早自習，規規矩矩聽好每一節課，然後領到大堆作業，迴傢埋頭苦做，常常熬到深夜，連吃飯，睡覺都得計算時間，如果遇到難題，考試砸鍋，受到批評……那就更慘瞭。讀書可謂苦也。然而靜下心來想想，其實不然，凡是做學問的，都要經受這一鍛煉。《送東陽馬生序》中，宋濂小時候喜歡讀書，傢裏窮，沒有辦法買書來讀，常常嚮藏書的人傢去藉，藉來就親手抄寫，計算著日子按期歸還。鼕天天氣十分寒冷，硯颱裏的墨汁結成冰，手指凍的不能伸屈，也不敢懈怠。他從師求學的時候，經常背著書籍，拖著鞋子，行走在深山大榖裏。嚴鼕颳著猛烈的大風，大雪深達幾尺，腳上的皮膚凍裂瞭也不知道，可見，讀書是要吃苦的瞭，因此，我們要有吃苦的準備。 其次說讀書樂的一種滋味吧，讀書雖然是件很苦的事，但樂趣卻不少。例如：當你聽著老師娓娓動聽的講課的時候，當你忽然齣一道難題的時候，當你考試取得好成績的時候，當你和同學一起參加活動的時候……難道你沒有興奮過，快樂過嗎？其實，讀書的樂趣要有的，當你看著自己讀書的以摞摞書，當你能用所學知識與彆人展開辯論……你沒有欣慰嗎？這就是樂，它就在我們身邊。 苦和樂是相隨相伴的，有苦必有樂，有樂必有苦。革命前輩謝覺哉說過：“快樂是從艱苦中來的。”吳伯蕭也在《記一輛紡車》中寫道：“與睏難作鬥爭，其樂無窮。”我們今天有瞭苦，就會有學習中的苦和今後生活的樂。現在許多老師把上課當成遊戲，很多學生把讀書當成找樂。學習在輕鬆愉快的氣氛中進行，這種做法值得效仿。 總之， “讀書破萬捲,下筆如有神.” “讀萬捲書,行萬裏路.”由於對書籍的酷愛,遂使我對於寫作産生濃厚的興趣.萬籟俱寂的夜裏,獨坐書桌前,撚開颱燈,在煢然的燈光下,一疊稿紙,一枝筆,成為我最忠實的傾訴對象,透過清濾的筆尖,灑然揮發心坎的抱負和理想。 不知是什麼時候,我迷迷糊糊地被它網住,成為它的裙下臣,高歌此心永不渝。如果有人問我心在何處,我將毫不猶豫地迴答:我的心在書域中那早已失去鑰匙的鐵箱裏,永遠不在索迴。 書是茫茫人海中意識的羅盤,是智慧的綠源,它能增長我們的見聞,改變人的氣質,撫慰受創傷的心靈。因此古人所謂“富者因書而貴,貧者因書而富”的金言。固然隻是一捲薄薄的書本(指好書),但它所賦予的益處,也隻有愛書人纔能體會得齣。讀書是艱苦的，但樂在其中。隻要，我們勇於讀書，善於讀書，並從中找到樂趣，我想我們會在讀書中取得成功的嗬嗬，老是在這裏買書，天天看有沒有特價啊，京東多搞點活動啊，我們會支持你的哇！

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