Dear Mystery Agent,
Because of your interest in YA, I am querying you with my 81,000 word contemporary YA novel BACKGROUND VOCALS.
For seventeen years, aspiring rockstar Meridian Ashton has traveled through Europe with her mother, breaking ties as easily as she changes strings on her guitar. When her fourteen-year-old cousin Natalie Owens loses her leg in a freak gymnastics accident Meridian surprises everyone by staying in suburban-Massachusetts hell to help Natalie redefine herself.
While she watches Meridian perform in Harvard Square, Natalie forgets the terror of crashing onto the gymnastics mats. She plans to make the titanium limb her least interesting attribute by dyeing her hair purple, making friends with drag queens, and sneaking into the neighbors’ swimming pool. With Meridian there to catch her if she stumbles, she even overcomes her fear of falling.
Unfortunately, Meridian is the one poised for a fall this time. Letting Natalie in has reopened wounds from her past, and her nomadic instincts are kicking in hardcore. She has a chance to escape her nightmares and realize her dreams, but the reverberations from her betrayal could cause her to crash with no one there to help her up--not even Natalie.
Dually narrated by Meridian and Natalie, BACKGROUND VOCALS mixes themes of identity, friendship and acceptance with a hint of quirkiness. It will appeal to fans of John Green, Sarah Dessen and Kody Keplinger.
I am an MA/MFA candidate at Simmons College, and a member of SCBWI.
Thank you for your time and consideration,
C.K.
BACKGROUND VOCALS
Chapter One: Meridian
Outside of Boston’s South Station I became the anonymous girl-with-the-guitar again, the person I’d been when the European city streets were mine to fill with music. The chords I strummed reaffirmed my choice to flee my suburban Massachusetts exile, and my ticket to New York would be my ticket to a record deal. Manhattan would never be Paris, but at least no one there would want to take my music away.
“Sweetheart, do you have a permit?” My tiny audience parted for the cop pushing his way toward me.
I misfingered a chord, and my E-string let out a low moan, like it knew we were in trouble. Shit, merde. I dropped to the ground and laid my guitar in its open case. The concrete bit into my knees through the holes in my jeans. The right clasp on my guitar case had bent when I broke the lock Uncle Rob put on it, and now refused to snap. I pressed it until the metal almost broke the skin on my hand. It shut, but it wouldn’t hold for long.
“Can I see some ID? Lots of runaways lately,” the cop said with an I’m sure you’re not one of them smirk.
Reluctantly, I slung my guitar case over my back and slipped my hand into my pocket. My D.C. license didn’t match my Boston location, or my New York destination, one of the perks of having a mother who couldn’t tolerate living in the same place for more than six months at a time.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
An Agent's Inbox #7
Dear Mystery Agent,
For Hagai's 17th birthday, he receives a stone from his mother that shows visions of the future. The thing is, Hagai thought his mother was killed ten years ago.
The bravest thing Hagai's ever done is put peppers in his stew, but when the stone shows his mother alive and in danger, he sets out to find her. Air pirates are hunting the stone too, and it's not long before a young pirate named Sam nicks it. Hagai tracks Sam down and demands the stone back--politely, of course, because Sam's got a knife.
Oddly, Sam offers him a job. He needs someone non-threatening to consult a seer hiding among the monks, and he reckons Hagai is as non-threatening as they come. Hagai agrees, intending to turn Sam in at the first opportunity. But when the seer says Sam is the key to finding his mother, Hagai chooses his mother's life over the law.
Though Sam has the Imperial Navy and the world's most ruthless pirate on his keel, Hagai joins Sam's crew, headed toward some godforsaken island he's never heard of. He doesn't trust Sam, and the stone haunts Hagai with visions of his own death. Nonetheless, he's determined to change the future and find his mother, if it's not already too late.
AIR PIRATES is an 84,000-word YA adventure. I think it would appeal to readers of Scott Westerfeld's LEVIATHAN trilogy. My short story "Pawn's Gambit," set in the same world as AIR PIRATES, has appeared in BENEATH CEASELESS SKIES.
I've pasted the first 250 words below. Thank you for your time and consideration.
Sincerely,
A.H.
AIR PIRATES
"You've been here every day for a week, mate," the shopkeep said.
"Good stew." Sam tugged his hood, keeping his grimace carefully shadowed. He had thought he could say it with a straight face.
"I ain't seen you in town before. You waiting for someone?"
Sam slurped his pepper stew. Though if there was pepper in it, Sam hadn't found it. Hadn't found much flavor at all, really--he suspected his stew had come from the same pot all week.
The shopkeep eyed him warily. "You ain't a knocker, are you?"
"Wouldn't be a smart question if I were, aye?" Sam glared like a hungry wolf. He was only eighteen, but he could make an imposing figure when it suited. The sword at his hip didn't hurt either. Sometimes it was best to let folks think you were dangerous, as showing them only caused trouble.
Other times--and the way the man fidgeted with his greasy apron told Sam this was one of those times--it was best to play it friendly. Sam smiled. "I'm just drumming you, baron. I ain't gonna kill anyone."
"Course." The shopkeep laughed nervously. "But you are waiting?"
For Hagai's 17th birthday, he receives a stone from his mother that shows visions of the future. The thing is, Hagai thought his mother was killed ten years ago.
The bravest thing Hagai's ever done is put peppers in his stew, but when the stone shows his mother alive and in danger, he sets out to find her. Air pirates are hunting the stone too, and it's not long before a young pirate named Sam nicks it. Hagai tracks Sam down and demands the stone back--politely, of course, because Sam's got a knife.
Oddly, Sam offers him a job. He needs someone non-threatening to consult a seer hiding among the monks, and he reckons Hagai is as non-threatening as they come. Hagai agrees, intending to turn Sam in at the first opportunity. But when the seer says Sam is the key to finding his mother, Hagai chooses his mother's life over the law.
Though Sam has the Imperial Navy and the world's most ruthless pirate on his keel, Hagai joins Sam's crew, headed toward some godforsaken island he's never heard of. He doesn't trust Sam, and the stone haunts Hagai with visions of his own death. Nonetheless, he's determined to change the future and find his mother, if it's not already too late.
AIR PIRATES is an 84,000-word YA adventure. I think it would appeal to readers of Scott Westerfeld's LEVIATHAN trilogy. My short story "Pawn's Gambit," set in the same world as AIR PIRATES, has appeared in BENEATH CEASELESS SKIES.
I've pasted the first 250 words below. Thank you for your time and consideration.
Sincerely,
A.H.
AIR PIRATES
"You've been here every day for a week, mate," the shopkeep said.
"Good stew." Sam tugged his hood, keeping his grimace carefully shadowed. He had thought he could say it with a straight face.
"I ain't seen you in town before. You waiting for someone?"
Sam slurped his pepper stew. Though if there was pepper in it, Sam hadn't found it. Hadn't found much flavor at all, really--he suspected his stew had come from the same pot all week.
The shopkeep eyed him warily. "You ain't a knocker, are you?"
"Wouldn't be a smart question if I were, aye?" Sam glared like a hungry wolf. He was only eighteen, but he could make an imposing figure when it suited. The sword at his hip didn't hurt either. Sometimes it was best to let folks think you were dangerous, as showing them only caused trouble.
Other times--and the way the man fidgeted with his greasy apron told Sam this was one of those times--it was best to play it friendly. Sam smiled. "I'm just drumming you, baron. I ain't gonna kill anyone."
"Course." The shopkeep laughed nervously. "But you are waiting?"
An Agent's Inbox #6
Dear Agent,
I am seeking representation for my 93,000 word adult urban fantasy novel, RAVENOUS DUSK.
Necromancer Blake Killan has the glamorous job of Dusk nullification: de-possessing people inhabited by ghosts of the dead. Dealing with possessed people who go on murderous rampages, and those whose original souls can’t be found, leaving their bodies permanently possessed, are added perks. Things change when she meets Kieran, an infuriatingly gorgeous demon who informs Blake that he is Reaper and she is his vessel, meant to help him channel Dusks into the Underworld.
Because nullification makes Dusks nonexistent, there’s a Dusk shortage in the Underworld, which means weakened barriers that can’t keep their creatures at bay. Blake thinks the demons would desire hell on earth, but soon realizes why the Underworld must keep their monsters locked away. And the more she’s forced to help Kieran, the more she finds herself tangled up in demon politics, which include nightmarish trips to the Underworld.
As Blake struggles with her detest for her role as Kieran’s vessel, and the magnetic pull she feels towards him, she and her partner are put at the head of a murder investigation involving Dusk possessed humans. Blake will follow the trail directly to the power hungry Witch’s Council, whose hidden agenda has been endangering necromancers, and getting on the wrong side of the Underworld’s leaders. Blake will also discover that Kieran is withholding information that could jeopardize her life, and a dangerous risk could cause her partner to lose his soul forever.
RAVENOUS DUSK is based in New York City, and has the potential to be a series, but can stand alone. Thank you for your time and consideration.
Sincerely,
A.M.
RAVENOUS DUSK
The room was spinning, no wait, maybe I was the one spinning. I stopped and wobbled onto a bar stool.
“You know, it pisses me off that I live in a world where people just don’t go away when they die,” I said. “I mean, isn’t death supposed to be the ultimate end? The grand finale? The Big Bang?”
“Actually, the Big Bang is that theory by scientists about the formation of the universe…”
“Now, Liam? Really?” I said, glaring at him.
“Sorry, I forgot logic isn’t welcome during ‘drunken times with Blake’.”
“Exactly. Now, where was I?” I got up again and started pacing. Liam was sitting hunched over the one beer he’d been nursing for the past hour, and watched as I chugged the rest of my beer, then demanded another from the bartender.
“Raving about people not being gone when they die,” Liam said dully. He actually took a drink; I must really be annoying the h*** out of him tonight.
“Right! What’s with all the d*** ghosts Liam? Did you know when I was twelve my grandmother’s ghost decided to jump into some old lady, ring my doorbell, and offer me candy from her purse?”
“Yes, I knew…”
“But she was in an Asian lady’s body! That was my first clue something was off.”
“Maybe the first clue should have been that you already knew she was dead,” Liam said around a yawn.
I am seeking representation for my 93,000 word adult urban fantasy novel, RAVENOUS DUSK.
Necromancer Blake Killan has the glamorous job of Dusk nullification: de-possessing people inhabited by ghosts of the dead. Dealing with possessed people who go on murderous rampages, and those whose original souls can’t be found, leaving their bodies permanently possessed, are added perks. Things change when she meets Kieran, an infuriatingly gorgeous demon who informs Blake that he is Reaper and she is his vessel, meant to help him channel Dusks into the Underworld.
Because nullification makes Dusks nonexistent, there’s a Dusk shortage in the Underworld, which means weakened barriers that can’t keep their creatures at bay. Blake thinks the demons would desire hell on earth, but soon realizes why the Underworld must keep their monsters locked away. And the more she’s forced to help Kieran, the more she finds herself tangled up in demon politics, which include nightmarish trips to the Underworld.
As Blake struggles with her detest for her role as Kieran’s vessel, and the magnetic pull she feels towards him, she and her partner are put at the head of a murder investigation involving Dusk possessed humans. Blake will follow the trail directly to the power hungry Witch’s Council, whose hidden agenda has been endangering necromancers, and getting on the wrong side of the Underworld’s leaders. Blake will also discover that Kieran is withholding information that could jeopardize her life, and a dangerous risk could cause her partner to lose his soul forever.
RAVENOUS DUSK is based in New York City, and has the potential to be a series, but can stand alone. Thank you for your time and consideration.
Sincerely,
A.M.
RAVENOUS DUSK
The room was spinning, no wait, maybe I was the one spinning. I stopped and wobbled onto a bar stool.
“You know, it pisses me off that I live in a world where people just don’t go away when they die,” I said. “I mean, isn’t death supposed to be the ultimate end? The grand finale? The Big Bang?”
“Actually, the Big Bang is that theory by scientists about the formation of the universe…”
“Now, Liam? Really?” I said, glaring at him.
“Sorry, I forgot logic isn’t welcome during ‘drunken times with Blake’.”
“Exactly. Now, where was I?” I got up again and started pacing. Liam was sitting hunched over the one beer he’d been nursing for the past hour, and watched as I chugged the rest of my beer, then demanded another from the bartender.
“Raving about people not being gone when they die,” Liam said dully. He actually took a drink; I must really be annoying the h*** out of him tonight.
“Right! What’s with all the d*** ghosts Liam? Did you know when I was twelve my grandmother’s ghost decided to jump into some old lady, ring my doorbell, and offer me candy from her purse?”
“Yes, I knew…”
“But she was in an Asian lady’s body! That was my first clue something was off.”
“Maybe the first clue should have been that you already knew she was dead,” Liam said around a yawn.
An Agent's Inbox #5
Dear Mystery Agent,
Melody is a young muse who has the misfortune of screwing up most of her missions--which pretty much sucks when you have someone as strict as Zeus for a father. After having her inspiration license revoked for a hundred years for reckless behavior, Melody is finally released from house arrest and put on probation.
When her Inspiration Officer assigns her to help a pair of down-on-their-luck teen brothers, Melody is glad to be back on the job--even if it means posing as a high school student. But with unexpected romance added to the mix, things get complicated. Even Melody knows falling in love with a human is a big no-no, so she is left with an impossible choice: give up the boy she loves to keep her muse status or succumb to her feelings and give up her immortality.
My young adult paranormal romance, BITTERSWEET MELODY, is complete at 60,000 words.
Thank you for your time and consideration. I look forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
D.D.
BITTERSWEET MELODY
One thing I can say for sure is I’m the only muse in history to ever have been grounded. I know this is true because my father told me. Well, more like screamed it at me while gripping the heck out of a lightning bolt, holding it over his head like a maniac. He totally over-reacted, of course. I mean, come on. Revoking my Inspiration License and grounding me for a hundred years? That completely sucks!
"Sucks" is a word I learned from my sister Calliope. She spends a lot of time with humans and picks up the best phrases. Whenever she comes home from a case she teaches them to me. Calliope’s a lot more fun than my other sisters--and there are many of us, not just three or nine like humans are misled to believe. And the only one who’s ever been suspended from inspiring? That’s right: me. It’s so unfair. My father says I had it coming, but I swear I’m not a trouble maker; I’m just misunderstood.
But that’s all over with now. I’ve served my time and I’m about to get my freedom back. Don’t get me wrong, Mount Olympus is pretty much the most beautiful place ever, but I’ve had it with being locked up here unable to do what I was born to do.
The last step toward my ticket out of here is a meeting with my Inspiration Officer so I can get my license back. That’s where I am now: sitting in his little office of cloud-white walls, rocking back and forth on the hind legs of a rickety chair while I wait for him to show up.
Melody is a young muse who has the misfortune of screwing up most of her missions--which pretty much sucks when you have someone as strict as Zeus for a father. After having her inspiration license revoked for a hundred years for reckless behavior, Melody is finally released from house arrest and put on probation.
When her Inspiration Officer assigns her to help a pair of down-on-their-luck teen brothers, Melody is glad to be back on the job--even if it means posing as a high school student. But with unexpected romance added to the mix, things get complicated. Even Melody knows falling in love with a human is a big no-no, so she is left with an impossible choice: give up the boy she loves to keep her muse status or succumb to her feelings and give up her immortality.
My young adult paranormal romance, BITTERSWEET MELODY, is complete at 60,000 words.
Thank you for your time and consideration. I look forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
D.D.
BITTERSWEET MELODY
One thing I can say for sure is I’m the only muse in history to ever have been grounded. I know this is true because my father told me. Well, more like screamed it at me while gripping the heck out of a lightning bolt, holding it over his head like a maniac. He totally over-reacted, of course. I mean, come on. Revoking my Inspiration License and grounding me for a hundred years? That completely sucks!
"Sucks" is a word I learned from my sister Calliope. She spends a lot of time with humans and picks up the best phrases. Whenever she comes home from a case she teaches them to me. Calliope’s a lot more fun than my other sisters--and there are many of us, not just three or nine like humans are misled to believe. And the only one who’s ever been suspended from inspiring? That’s right: me. It’s so unfair. My father says I had it coming, but I swear I’m not a trouble maker; I’m just misunderstood.
But that’s all over with now. I’ve served my time and I’m about to get my freedom back. Don’t get me wrong, Mount Olympus is pretty much the most beautiful place ever, but I’ve had it with being locked up here unable to do what I was born to do.
The last step toward my ticket out of here is a meeting with my Inspiration Officer so I can get my license back. That’s where I am now: sitting in his little office of cloud-white walls, rocking back and forth on the hind legs of a rickety chair while I wait for him to show up.
An Agent's Inbox #4
Dear Agent,
The sky looked black for days after the bomb killed her parents, and seventeen-year-old Lena Lowell will do anything to make sure the sky stays blue from now on.
When Lena’s boyfriend, Will, tells her that he feels an agitating energy surging through his body, he asks her to keep it quiet. As the son of the President of the Republic, Will doesn’t want the press to know he’s losing his mind. But Lena can feel the electricity humming beneath his skin and one touch sends a prickly sensation through her body.
Lena hates to watch her stalwart boyfriend suffer in private, so she investigates the cause of the energy on her own. Before she can find an answer, Will goes missing and the President suspects that the King of the enemy nation has kidnapped him. Lena must discover the secret of Will’s affliction and help bring him home before the Republic stops searching and starts bombing. If she fails, war will take away everything she loves for the second time in her life.
STORMLAND is a 70,000 word young adult fantasy. It was a runner-up in the Made of Awesome blog contest judged by agent Judith Engracia of Liza Dawson and Associates. I have also been published in small press magazines such as Nerve Cowboy.
At your request, I would be pleased to send you more of STORMLAND. Thank you for your consideration.
Sincerely,
S.B.
STORMLAND
“Why isn’t the sky blue anymore?”
The man sat under a bridge with his niece huddled beside him. The black rain seeped through the cracks above and left little pools of ash on the girl’s pale skin. He moved her over in the hopes of finding a dry spot. The child reminded him of a doll left out in the rain. He had cut the tangles from of her hair and now it rested around her ears in uneven clumps. She deserved something better than this.
“Why isn’t the sky blue anymore?” she asked again.
“Lena, dear, I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.”
“The sky is a giant mirror that reflected the blue oceans. But someone threw a rock at the sky and it shattered. So now we only see what was behind the sky.”
“Can they fix it?”
“No.”
“I’m hungry,” she said.
The brush nearby crackled and in an instant the smuggler was there. Far too soon. The child pressed herself closer to him.
“Lena, I want you to go with this man.”
Her little green eyes went wide with fright. “I want to stay with you.”
He took a deep breath to hold back tears. “I am no good at taking care of you. He is going to take you to a better place. He is going to take you to a place where the sky is still blue.”
“Will Mommy and Daddy meet me there?”
Each time she asked about them, he felt like his heart would burst. But this would be the last time he would have to say it.
“You won’t see Mommy and Daddy for a long time. They will meet you in heaven.”
The sky looked black for days after the bomb killed her parents, and seventeen-year-old Lena Lowell will do anything to make sure the sky stays blue from now on.
When Lena’s boyfriend, Will, tells her that he feels an agitating energy surging through his body, he asks her to keep it quiet. As the son of the President of the Republic, Will doesn’t want the press to know he’s losing his mind. But Lena can feel the electricity humming beneath his skin and one touch sends a prickly sensation through her body.
Lena hates to watch her stalwart boyfriend suffer in private, so she investigates the cause of the energy on her own. Before she can find an answer, Will goes missing and the President suspects that the King of the enemy nation has kidnapped him. Lena must discover the secret of Will’s affliction and help bring him home before the Republic stops searching and starts bombing. If she fails, war will take away everything she loves for the second time in her life.
STORMLAND is a 70,000 word young adult fantasy. It was a runner-up in the Made of Awesome blog contest judged by agent Judith Engracia of Liza Dawson and Associates. I have also been published in small press magazines such as Nerve Cowboy.
At your request, I would be pleased to send you more of STORMLAND. Thank you for your consideration.
Sincerely,
S.B.
STORMLAND
“Why isn’t the sky blue anymore?”
The man sat under a bridge with his niece huddled beside him. The black rain seeped through the cracks above and left little pools of ash on the girl’s pale skin. He moved her over in the hopes of finding a dry spot. The child reminded him of a doll left out in the rain. He had cut the tangles from of her hair and now it rested around her ears in uneven clumps. She deserved something better than this.
“Why isn’t the sky blue anymore?” she asked again.
“Lena, dear, I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.”
“The sky is a giant mirror that reflected the blue oceans. But someone threw a rock at the sky and it shattered. So now we only see what was behind the sky.”
“Can they fix it?”
“No.”
“I’m hungry,” she said.
The brush nearby crackled and in an instant the smuggler was there. Far too soon. The child pressed herself closer to him.
“Lena, I want you to go with this man.”
Her little green eyes went wide with fright. “I want to stay with you.”
He took a deep breath to hold back tears. “I am no good at taking care of you. He is going to take you to a better place. He is going to take you to a place where the sky is still blue.”
“Will Mommy and Daddy meet me there?”
Each time she asked about them, he felt like his heart would burst. But this would be the last time he would have to say it.
“You won’t see Mommy and Daddy for a long time. They will meet you in heaven.”
An Agent's Inbox #3
Dear Ms. Agent:
I’m seeking representation for my YA contemporary fantasy DEEP BLUE SECRET, complete at 96,000 words. After reading your blog interview posted at Mother. Write. (Repeat.), I feel my writing would be a good match with your areas of interest.
Seventeen-year-old Sadie James enjoys her breezy California life until she’s rescued from drowning by a mysterious boy who seems oddly familiar. He runs off without explanation, but when she finds the same boy asleep in her hospital room after an accident, Sadie pushes for answers. His name is Rayne, a secret agent called a Keeper who’s been assigned to her since she was seven years old. He explains how Sadie’s injuries miraculously healed in just days--Healing Water, a long-kept secret of the Keepers, the reason they live more than two hundred years.
Sadie can’t stop daydreaming of Rayne. She might even be in love. But he insists their attraction is just an illusion, a powerful bond created when he overdosed her with Healing Water at the hospital. She fights off the feelings which seem utterly real, but when Sadie faints for the second time that week, it’s clear the problem is bigger than her Keeper let on.
Rayne reveals Sadie’s obsidian-like birthmark is a Watermark meant to regulate the steady release of Healing Water in her body, and she’s not the only one. Rayne bears the mark too. But Sadie’s circumstances are rare. Being triggered abruptly by the overdose after years without use is causing Sadie’s mark to malfunction. If she doesn’t have constant exposure to the Healing Water, her body and mind will deteriorate in a matter of days--if she’s lucky, hours if she’s not.
To make matters worse, a rogue agent from Rayne’s organization discovers sensitive information about Sadie he plans to use to blackmail his way to exoneration, and he kidnaps Sadie as added leverage. Now cut off from the Healing Water, Sadie must escape before her Watermark literally drains her body to death.
I'm including the opening page of my manuscript as requested. Just to clarify, my story includes several viewpoints as you will see in the sample page, although the great majority of the story is expressed from Sadie’s point of view. DEEP BLUE SECRET is available at your request.
Thank you for your consideration,
C.A.
DEEP BLUE SECRET
Chapter 1: Voss Waits to Strike
The night air was quiet, devoid of sound or life or the rustling signs of vitality. Through the silence, Voss sensed the animal’s trembling. He smelled the fear, the frozen limbs and helpless twitching. A sinister smile grew across his face and he turned to lurk sideways through the brush. His movements were stealthy and premeditated. Even with ragged leather shoes covered in dirt and falling apart, he placed each foot skillfully in front of the other without sound.
His fist tightened around the makeshift knife, bone handle steady in his grip. The years of training did not fail him. Quick paws over crinkled leaves broke the silence and Voss flew forward, blade hurling through the shadows. The tiny animal fell to the ground.
Voss fastened the rabbit to his belt and turned back to the spot where he’d dropped his supplies. The animal hunt gave him a slight sense of satisfaction, a rare feeling in this wretched wasteland beyond the Threshold. He took quick steps as he continued his hike over the barren terrain, winding through pathetic, half-dead trees.
The moon struggled to light the path, just a faint yellow glow, dingy through the dust ridden atmosphere. How could this be the same moon that showed so vividly on the other side of the Threshold? They shared the same brilliant sun as well, yet here in Cayno it barely skimmed across the horizon during daylight hours.
He cursed the pitiful moon and dragged his legs forward toward his camp. This was his existence. While others slumbered in their beds in far-off happy places, Voss fought to survive.
I’m seeking representation for my YA contemporary fantasy DEEP BLUE SECRET, complete at 96,000 words. After reading your blog interview posted at Mother. Write. (Repeat.), I feel my writing would be a good match with your areas of interest.
Seventeen-year-old Sadie James enjoys her breezy California life until she’s rescued from drowning by a mysterious boy who seems oddly familiar. He runs off without explanation, but when she finds the same boy asleep in her hospital room after an accident, Sadie pushes for answers. His name is Rayne, a secret agent called a Keeper who’s been assigned to her since she was seven years old. He explains how Sadie’s injuries miraculously healed in just days--Healing Water, a long-kept secret of the Keepers, the reason they live more than two hundred years.
Sadie can’t stop daydreaming of Rayne. She might even be in love. But he insists their attraction is just an illusion, a powerful bond created when he overdosed her with Healing Water at the hospital. She fights off the feelings which seem utterly real, but when Sadie faints for the second time that week, it’s clear the problem is bigger than her Keeper let on.
Rayne reveals Sadie’s obsidian-like birthmark is a Watermark meant to regulate the steady release of Healing Water in her body, and she’s not the only one. Rayne bears the mark too. But Sadie’s circumstances are rare. Being triggered abruptly by the overdose after years without use is causing Sadie’s mark to malfunction. If she doesn’t have constant exposure to the Healing Water, her body and mind will deteriorate in a matter of days--if she’s lucky, hours if she’s not.
To make matters worse, a rogue agent from Rayne’s organization discovers sensitive information about Sadie he plans to use to blackmail his way to exoneration, and he kidnaps Sadie as added leverage. Now cut off from the Healing Water, Sadie must escape before her Watermark literally drains her body to death.
I'm including the opening page of my manuscript as requested. Just to clarify, my story includes several viewpoints as you will see in the sample page, although the great majority of the story is expressed from Sadie’s point of view. DEEP BLUE SECRET is available at your request.
Thank you for your consideration,
C.A.
DEEP BLUE SECRET
Chapter 1: Voss Waits to Strike
The night air was quiet, devoid of sound or life or the rustling signs of vitality. Through the silence, Voss sensed the animal’s trembling. He smelled the fear, the frozen limbs and helpless twitching. A sinister smile grew across his face and he turned to lurk sideways through the brush. His movements were stealthy and premeditated. Even with ragged leather shoes covered in dirt and falling apart, he placed each foot skillfully in front of the other without sound.
His fist tightened around the makeshift knife, bone handle steady in his grip. The years of training did not fail him. Quick paws over crinkled leaves broke the silence and Voss flew forward, blade hurling through the shadows. The tiny animal fell to the ground.
Voss fastened the rabbit to his belt and turned back to the spot where he’d dropped his supplies. The animal hunt gave him a slight sense of satisfaction, a rare feeling in this wretched wasteland beyond the Threshold. He took quick steps as he continued his hike over the barren terrain, winding through pathetic, half-dead trees.
The moon struggled to light the path, just a faint yellow glow, dingy through the dust ridden atmosphere. How could this be the same moon that showed so vividly on the other side of the Threshold? They shared the same brilliant sun as well, yet here in Cayno it barely skimmed across the horizon during daylight hours.
He cursed the pitiful moon and dragged his legs forward toward his camp. This was his existence. While others slumbered in their beds in far-off happy places, Voss fought to survive.
An Agent's Inbox #2
Dear Secret Agent,
Presley O’Connor’s life has always been about keeping secrets.
As an Empath, eighteen-year-old Presley O’Connor feels perfectly in tune with those around her--until a note arrives wishing her a happy last birthday on her mutilated senior picture. Believing it’s a classmate’s sick idea of a joke, Presley keeps the threat to herself and bides her time.
But Presley is wrong about the note. Away at college, Reid Montgomery, a long-time crush, is having visions of her abduction and murder. When a serial killer makes his move, Reid is the one that rushes back to thwart the attempt. Blissfully in love, Presley is willing to ignore the dark secret Reid carries deep within his soul. When an accident reveals that secret, Presley’s life hinges on her ability to convince Reid that no matter what, she would have loved him anyway.
My YA paranormal romance, I WOULD HAVE LOVED YOU ANYWAY, is complete at 89,000 words. Pasted below are the first 250 words per the contest rules. Thank you for your time and consideration of my work.
Sincerely,
B.C.
I WOULD HAVE LOVED YOU ANYWAY
The ants go marching two by two.
The words of a childhood song loop through my head. I swear that’s exactly the way I feel—like an army of red ants are marching just beneath the surface of my skin. Definitely creepy. Even for me. My heart thuds erratically as a blistering pain travels up my arm. The ants go marching seven by seven. The little one stops to look at heaven.
A blur of white flashes before my eyes; squealing tires drown out the beats of my heart. “Jerk!” I yell as a panel van speeds through the stop sign at the end of our street, almost taking out my car. “Can’t you read?” The driver doesn’t look my way. You could have killed me. And dying on my birthday isn’t what I had in mind when I got up this morning.
My heart, but not the trembling in my legs, slows as I turn onto Oak Tree Lane. The safety of home is only a half block away. Our house, a two story white brick, sits behind four large oaks. Our neighbor, bent over in her flower beds, straightens up when I pull in our drive. Her lawn, like most of those along our street, is manicure-perfect. “Happy birthday, Presley,” she calls as I walk to the mailbox.
Presley O’Connor’s life has always been about keeping secrets.
As an Empath, eighteen-year-old Presley O’Connor feels perfectly in tune with those around her--until a note arrives wishing her a happy last birthday on her mutilated senior picture. Believing it’s a classmate’s sick idea of a joke, Presley keeps the threat to herself and bides her time.
But Presley is wrong about the note. Away at college, Reid Montgomery, a long-time crush, is having visions of her abduction and murder. When a serial killer makes his move, Reid is the one that rushes back to thwart the attempt. Blissfully in love, Presley is willing to ignore the dark secret Reid carries deep within his soul. When an accident reveals that secret, Presley’s life hinges on her ability to convince Reid that no matter what, she would have loved him anyway.
My YA paranormal romance, I WOULD HAVE LOVED YOU ANYWAY, is complete at 89,000 words. Pasted below are the first 250 words per the contest rules. Thank you for your time and consideration of my work.
Sincerely,
B.C.
I WOULD HAVE LOVED YOU ANYWAY
The ants go marching two by two.
The words of a childhood song loop through my head. I swear that’s exactly the way I feel—like an army of red ants are marching just beneath the surface of my skin. Definitely creepy. Even for me. My heart thuds erratically as a blistering pain travels up my arm. The ants go marching seven by seven. The little one stops to look at heaven.
A blur of white flashes before my eyes; squealing tires drown out the beats of my heart. “Jerk!” I yell as a panel van speeds through the stop sign at the end of our street, almost taking out my car. “Can’t you read?” The driver doesn’t look my way. You could have killed me. And dying on my birthday isn’t what I had in mind when I got up this morning.
My heart, but not the trembling in my legs, slows as I turn onto Oak Tree Lane. The safety of home is only a half block away. Our house, a two story white brick, sits behind four large oaks. Our neighbor, bent over in her flower beds, straightens up when I pull in our drive. Her lawn, like most of those along our street, is manicure-perfect. “Happy birthday, Presley,” she calls as I walk to the mailbox.
An Agent's Inbox #1
Dear Mystery Agent:
Maya doesn't have a last name. In the Sprawl, no one needs a last name. No one needs an education, or electricity, or running water. No one needs a reason to live, because their only purpose is to die.
In Maya's city, a fiery barrier divides the Sprawl from the rest of the metropolis, which is a sector filled with sciences, politics, and extreme opulence. Maya isn't meant for that world across the barrier. She was born to be drafted, just another body waiting to fall in the Neverending War.
Maya's a fighter. She believes in survival, and in herself, but she doesn't dare believe in hope - hope is too dangerous. No one's ever been able to escape the Sprawl or desert the army, and Maya isn't going to be the next idiot to try.
One boy changes that. A boy who shouldn't follow Maya into the war, shouldn't fall in love with her, and shouldn't ignite the desire for revolution in her.
But he does.
With Sam by her side, Maya finds hope. At any cost, she'll escape the Sprawl. Escape the draft. Escape to a place where she's worth something.
She'll shatter the constraints that have held her for seventeen years. And in the process, she'll create a new world.
PARTITION (89,000 words) is a dystopian romance for young adults. As per the rules of this wonderful contest, I have pasted the first 250 words of my manuscript below. Thank you so much for your time and consideration.
Sincerely,
R.R.
MAYA
No one sneaks into the Glass City and returns unscathed, especially not us Pewts. My best friend told me not to come. He said this was stupid and reckless, and he was probably right, but I gotta try.
I wish he was here. H***, I wish any of my friends had the guts to climb up with me.
But it’s probably less the climbing part and more the breaking-into-prison part that scared ‘em off.
As I pull myself up, my bare feet struggle to grip the glass pillar. My biceps burn like acid, and I spit a curse into the darkness, reminding myself that this pain is probably nothing next to what’s coming. If I get back without some sorta serious injury, it’ll be a g**d*** miracle.
I look down. My throat yanks shut like the neck of a drawstring bag. This height is dizzying, painful, and being so close to the top is totally unreal. I’ve seen the City my whole life from below, seen it sitting smug on these glass anchors like it’s balanced on a forest of fat crystal straws. Beautiful, especially compared to the filth of the Sprawl.
The City’s stilts are linked together by a webwork of shining metal struts, which make solid footholds. So it’s possible to climb up, but that sure as h*** doesn’t mean it’s easy. Someone told me the anchors aren’t real glass--knowing the Glass City, it’s probably some sorta special-engineered material.
Maya doesn't have a last name. In the Sprawl, no one needs a last name. No one needs an education, or electricity, or running water. No one needs a reason to live, because their only purpose is to die.
In Maya's city, a fiery barrier divides the Sprawl from the rest of the metropolis, which is a sector filled with sciences, politics, and extreme opulence. Maya isn't meant for that world across the barrier. She was born to be drafted, just another body waiting to fall in the Neverending War.
Maya's a fighter. She believes in survival, and in herself, but she doesn't dare believe in hope - hope is too dangerous. No one's ever been able to escape the Sprawl or desert the army, and Maya isn't going to be the next idiot to try.
One boy changes that. A boy who shouldn't follow Maya into the war, shouldn't fall in love with her, and shouldn't ignite the desire for revolution in her.
But he does.
With Sam by her side, Maya finds hope. At any cost, she'll escape the Sprawl. Escape the draft. Escape to a place where she's worth something.
She'll shatter the constraints that have held her for seventeen years. And in the process, she'll create a new world.
PARTITION (89,000 words) is a dystopian romance for young adults. As per the rules of this wonderful contest, I have pasted the first 250 words of my manuscript below. Thank you so much for your time and consideration.
Sincerely,
R.R.
MAYA
No one sneaks into the Glass City and returns unscathed, especially not us Pewts. My best friend told me not to come. He said this was stupid and reckless, and he was probably right, but I gotta try.
I wish he was here. H***, I wish any of my friends had the guts to climb up with me.
But it’s probably less the climbing part and more the breaking-into-prison part that scared ‘em off.
As I pull myself up, my bare feet struggle to grip the glass pillar. My biceps burn like acid, and I spit a curse into the darkness, reminding myself that this pain is probably nothing next to what’s coming. If I get back without some sorta serious injury, it’ll be a g**d*** miracle.
I look down. My throat yanks shut like the neck of a drawstring bag. This height is dizzying, painful, and being so close to the top is totally unreal. I’ve seen the City my whole life from below, seen it sitting smug on these glass anchors like it’s balanced on a forest of fat crystal straws. Beautiful, especially compared to the filth of the Sprawl.
The City’s stilts are linked together by a webwork of shining metal struts, which make solid footholds. So it’s possible to climb up, but that sure as h*** doesn’t mean it’s easy. Someone told me the anchors aren’t real glass--knowing the Glass City, it’s probably some sorta special-engineered material.
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