An Agent's Inbox #9

Dear Agent's Inbox,

Born with only three left fingers, Christine doubts any man will buy a diamond ring for her disfigured hand. She’s okay with that. She’s planning on finding a new job using her chemistry degree, buying a house, and adopting some kids. Then she meets Paul. Intelligent and gorgeous, he sees beyond her hand. She’s interested, but Paul comes across as a player, and she doesn't want to be just one of his many conquests. 

Paul’s job in national security puts him in danger; he’s used to taking chances, succeeding when the odds are stacked against him. He’s intrigued when he meets Christine. She’s funny, smart, and has the most beautiful eyes. She’s also stubborn and self-protective. After their first date, she says no to more. She's not interested in just being one of many women in his life. Paul puts his negotiation skills to work and persuades her to go out with him on five more dates before she gives up on love. 

As they take turns picking what they’ll do on their dates, they find themselves challenged to face their fears and learn to trust each other more with each encounter. When a beautiful woman attempts to seduce Paul, Paul tries to hide the incident from Christine. When she finds out, she walks out on him thinking he may be hiding other things from her. She accepts a job out of state and renews her plans for buying a house and adopting children on her own. When Paul learns Christine’s new job fell through, he takes a chance and buys her a ring.

Paul seeks to regain Christine’s trust, but she rebuffs all his efforts. When a drug cartel marks Paul for assassination, Christine realizes, perhaps too late, that she can't live without him.

LOVE INTERRUPTED, an #ownvoices, dual POV, adult contemporary romance, is 76,000 words in length. Christine’s feelings about her disfigurement are based on my own experience with a disfiguring disease. I’m a member of RWA. Thanks for your time and consideration. I look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,
B.C.W.

LOVE INTERRUPTED

The ambrosia of warming fragrances wafting from the Comfy Couch Coffee Shop and Bakery revitalized me. It had been another demoralizing night at the lab. I needed caffeine and chocolate--now. 

Captain America was holding the door open for me. His brilliant smile against his dark complexion mended my mood. My best-friend Scarlet and I gave all the regulars at the coffee shop nicknames. Captain America was so named because he entered the coffee shop as if he considered everyone there under his protection. He scanned the room with apparently practiced vigilance. His soulful eyes lingered on anyone who wasn't a regular.

He let me ahead of him in line to order my coffee. His tailored suit accentuated his lean athletic build. His good-looks and self-assurance were daunting. Heat rose to my face as I mumbled my thanks. I sounded like I’d just come from the dentist with my lips and tongue numbed.

I gasped in panic when I didn’t find my credit card in its usual slot. Then, I remembered dropping it in my car as I pulled from the gas station. I rummaged through my purse hoping that somehow under all the receipt and gum wrapper debris several dollars’ worth of change would appear. I shot an apologetic smile at the cashier and a "sorry" over my shoulder to the scowling eye-rollers behind me.

Cap handed his credit card to the cashier. "Here, put hers on this along with mine."

An Agent's Inbox #8

Dear Agent,

Nineteen-year-old Lex Hightower has two of the worst jobs in Alabama: part-time grocery store employee, part-time corpse killer. In the six weeks since some lunatic bombed the South, she’s spent most of her time beating back the radioactive dead and reluctantly helping useless survivors in Kroger.

She finds out there’s a safe zone on the edge of the Tennessee-Kentucky Line, but she’s not thrilled to walk two hundred miles on sore cashier feet. But when she finds out that the food reserves in the store are almost gone, she makes her mind up. Time to go to the Line.

Lex grabs a few packs of cigarettes, a metal bat, and the two survivors who annoy her the least, and sets out on her journey. Ex-friend, ex-meth addict Brian and naïve-but-well-intentioned Tony aren’t ideal travel companions, but she’s willing to do anything to get to safety and some d*** peace and quiet. A two-week trip on foot? Easy.

At least it would be if the corpses weren’t getting stronger and smarter every day.

It would be if a mysterious group weren’t carving Xs on buildings and people.

It would be if the fallout wasn’t just changing the dead, but the living as well.

THE DUST is an Adult Urban Fantasy novel at 90,000 words.

As requested, I have included the first 250 words of my manuscript. Thank you for your time and consideration.

Sincerely,
J.L.


THE DUST

Brian offers me a cigarette as we watch the corpses circle the edge of the store. There are two of them, a man and a woman this time; the man’s bloated gut stretches out of its ripped sweater, exposing its gray skin, and the woman isn’t wearing any shoes. Who kicks off their shoes when they’re running from something trying to kill them? Dumba**.

“Lex, take one,” Brian says, shoving a Marlboro in my face. An unlit one dangles from his mouth.

“D***, you’re annoying.” I haven’t taken my eyes off the corpses below. One is on its knees, pawing at the gap that separates the store from the parking lot. The ravine between the parking lot and the store is deep, but not wide; it could jump across if it wanted. Luckily the corpses are dumb as s*** and haven’t figured out the concept of jumping. Hopefully they never do.

I sigh, my breath making a small white cloud in the air. It’s bitterly cold for an Alabama September. I’m not sure if it has anything to do with the uncommon cold or the thick gray clouds that blot out the sun, but bright green flecks of dust constantly rain down from above. I’ve only ever seen snow a handful of times, but the dust looks just like it--silent flurries that coat everything in green ash. Brian and I are sitting under an overhang to avoid it, though. If it touches our skin, it burns.

An Agent's Inbox #7

Dear Agent,

Please consider my middle grade science fiction novel, ‘The Last Energy Seeker’, which has the adventurous feel of Lee Bacon’s Legendtopia, combined with the intrigue of Matthew Kirby’s Icefall.

For Aiden--the youngest in a family of Earth refugees, a misfit and tinkerer--the weirdest, and possibly worst, day in his life is the day his Grandfather disappears. On that day, he is no longer an outcast from Cowan, he is the last Energy Seeker and the only one who can help the Empress. 

She needs Aiden to track down a rogue group, the Turncoats, who are intent on starting war on their planet, Gemina. After a lifetime of forced poverty, Aiden has no loyalty to the Empress or High Counselors. Only to his family. Still, with the help of his St. Bernard--aka slobbery best friend and side-kick, Greer--and a Royal outcast, the Empress’ sister Wilhelmina, Aiden agrees to help find and stop the Turncoats. Not to be a hero and save the planet, but to give his family a better life, and hopefully, find his Grandfather and bring him home.

As he, Wilhelmina and Greer Echo-jump to escape an arctic boom, nearly drown in an underwater world and are trapped between a fire-breathing dragon and a mob of angry Vikings, Aiden starts to uncover secrets. Half-lies that challenge everything people in their country believe. Broken truths that will tear his family apart. 

The closer they are to finding the Turncoat’s Grid, the more Aiden fears he must re-learn his reality and maybe re-think his loyalties. The only truths he can depend on, are knowing Greer will always be on his side, and understanding that, when he finds the Turncoats, his life will never be the same again.

I am an active member of SCBWI and continue to work on my craft through the Mid City Lights Writers & Illustrators monthly critique group. ‘The Last Energy Seeker,’ a light science fiction middle grade novel, is complete at 55,000 words and available for review. I included the first 250 words below. Thank you for considering this project.

Sincerely,
C.S.

THE LAST ENERGY SEEKER

Old Tech Meets New World – Chapter 1

Aiden reached up as tall as he could, gaining another two inches in height and stretched out his middle. Sucking his stomach in until it scraped his spine, he waited, holding his breath, until it happened. Finally, a whiny moan belched out.

His brother, Neil, gave him an appreciative nod. “Not bad, bro. But, I can do better.”

Aiden flashed Neil a grin and waved his brother on. They could be at this game for hours, he thought. This time of year, when food got scarce their stomachs gassed, whined, groaned and belched all on their own. When Gavin, one of Aiden’s other brothers, figured out they could make particularly disgusting noises by stretching and moving certain ways, they had made a game of it. Starvasion.

Maybe this year, they would finally declare a winner, Aiden thought. His grin widened when Neil squatted down. Then up. Then down. Neil’s stomach punched out a loud staccato grunt.

“Impressive,” Aiden conceded with a nod, taking time to plan his next move. Yet, even with the game to distract him, he couldn’t stop the tape playing in his head: FEED ME. FEED ME. In a few weeks, when his body adjusted to half-portions for breakfast and dinner, and no mid-day meal, it would get better. Until then, their game was the only thing keeping him from a trip to Crazy Town.

Aiden executed his next move, then glanced down to the Salvage Fields, where his parents and older siblings worked.

An Agent's Inbox #6

Dear Agent's Inbox:

When Daphne Haddox discovers she is pregnant, she wonders how a 24 year-old unwed pregnant barmaid from England in 1497 can hope to provide for her child. So when a mysterious bottle with a promise of a chance at a better life for her and her baby appears on her dresser one night, she drinks the potion in desperation. She wakes to find herself at the Crossroads Home for Pregnant Women in 2014 in Austin, Texas, where she and other girls like herself can have their babies, put them up for adoption, and return to their time with no memory of it all. Daphne decides this is best for both her and her baby and stays.

Despite the rule against relationships, Daphne begins to date Alan Everett, an understanding computer programmer who makes her happy, but her caretaker learns of the relationship and forbids her from seeing him. They sneak around, enjoying each other’s company, until Alan finally tells her that he gave up a baby for adoption in the past, and Daphne, feeling betrayed, ends the relationship.

But when the time comes to have her baby, Daphne realizes giving up her child and a chance at true love isn’t the path she wants to take.

Crossroads Home for Pregnant Women, a Women's Fiction novel, is complete at 76,000 words and ready for your consideration.

Several of my devotionals have been published in Devo’Zine, a devotional lifestyle magazine for teens. I am currently a member of the Pikes Peak Writers. I have a Bachelors in Communications Studies, Human Relations from the University of Texas at Austin.

Thank you for your time and consideration; I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Sincerely,
J.K.

CROSSROADS HOME FOR PREGNANT WOMEN

It’s amazing how nine months can feel like both the shortest and the longest time in your life. And for me that wasn’t even the strangest part. No, the strangest part would have to be being pregnant in a whole different era from my own. Yes, that would have to be it.

Simply put, up until the night I got pregnant, my life was hardly noteworthy. In fact, it was rather boring. But let’s travel back in time, shall we? Say, five years and nine months ago (give or take a few centuries), back to when things really started to get peculiar:

Let me start by saying my name is Daphne Haddox and I like all desserts and watching movies while cuddling. Wait--this is starting to sound like a dating profile… but I think I am starting to get 21st century humor. 

Anyway, usually I went through life just fine with who I am and where I am and what I’m doing. After all, my Uncle John, being the realistic man he is, raised me to be the same. But it was one of those days where I was slowly wiping the table, staring out the window, daydreaming about what it would be like to be royalty and I was betrothed to some prince in a foreign land. And, even if I hated him, or he was ugly, at least I knew I was going to be taken care of. My future was secure.

An Agent's Inbox #5

Dear Agent,

Sixteen-year-old Alex assumes her reoccurring nightmares are just freakish coincidences. She is dead wrong. The fires from her dreams destroy her reality one night, forcing her parents to shove her into their safe-room alone. Hours later, she emerges to no electricity and a city scorched with bodies and freckled with few survivors. Her parents have vanished, leaving Alex to grapple with her newfound clairvoyance alone. The maddening static of an old radio becomes her only confidant until a human voice breaks through. Call it luck, destiny, or fate with a screwed-up sense of humor, but Alex’s journey to one leads her to three. And what’s more, they all have Gifts received from the same night of fires that confirmed she had the “sight.” Bickering, hunting, and hiding from crazed survivors leads them to Washington D.C. where they sorely underestimate the power and reach of their President.

Evelyn Lilith, the fortunate Designated Survivor of the 2024 Capitol Bombing and now President, ratifies her Freedom Acts: laws tampering with life, religion, and self-protection as a prelude to her tyrannical overture. With Martial Law already in place from four nuclear explosions in the West, she sees the Book of Revelations as a creative instruction manual for how to erect a new country on the ashes of the old. Her desire for a smooth transition, however, hits sour notes when rumors of a militia and prophesized Gifted teens whisper through the halls of her Reintegration Center. If she doesn’t neutralize the threats, she will lose the country she worked so hard to corrupt.

The Gifted teens now have a choice: fight President Lilith and lose what’s left of their families or surrender to her apocalyptic plan and lose what’s left of their country.

BLESSED is a YA speculative fiction novel, complete at 60,000 words with a series potential. It is best described as The 5th Wave meets I Am Number Four with a unique twist of alternating points of view between the teen protagonist and the unreliable adult antagonist. This is my first novel, but I am a full time as a high school English and Creative Writing teacher of nine years, analyzing all tropes related to YA literature with my target audience. Thank you for your time and consideration.

Warm Regards,

C.M.

BLESSED

"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens…”

CHAPTER ONE

“A Time to be Born…”

Alex

Martial Law was about as fun as running over a gravel parking lot barefoot. Any step out of line left a mark. Not that it mattered. The government had no reason to check my steps. My file was probably the one with water rings tattooed on it--a coaster for their stale coffee. And I was okay with that. Better a coaster than a conspirator, right?

The decades-old song “Titanium” blasted through my ear buds while I crossed another day off my calendar. One hundred and eighteen days since North Korea wiped out Congress. One hundred and twenty days since they bombed our Western cities. Seventy five long-ass days of lame, invented games like how-many-stairs-can-Alex-clear-before-she-wipes-out. And seventy five predictable nights of sketching and sulking.

Like I said, a water-ringed coaster.

Tonight, my graphite-stained fingers drew an old tree while David Guetta’s lyrics became my personal anthem, and my sketchbook, filled with images of my reoccurring nightmares, my only freedom. A coaster armed with a pencil--my shield and my sword. Watch out, world.

At least I could belt the classics whenever I wanted. “I’m bullet proof, nothing to lose. Fire away, fire away!” Perfect pitch. I shot my hand in the air and gave it a high five.

Crushed it.

A loud knock on the door made me jump and drop my sketchbook. I yanked out my earbuds, nearly ripping off the small hoop in my tragus.

Jiminy frackin’ Cricket, that hurt!

So much for the shield and sword.

An Agent's Inbox #4

Dear Agent:

When orphans Tommy and Gina’s stay at their uncle’s mind-numbingly boring farm is thrown into chaos, they are transported to Aetheria, a wondrous world of flying sail ships, terrifying monsters, and amazing creatures (squid-folk, giant snakes, gnomes)! With the help of the world’s only living ship--the magnificent Veda Zhi--and her crew, the children must flee the villainous wolf-man Lord Malloc and his vile Crimson Hand thugs who are bent on capturing them. 

Together, Tommy, Gina, Veda Zhi, and the crew will race to save a family of mind reading little people from being enslaved by the Crimson Hand and try to get the brother and sister back to their own world before their chance to return home is lost forever!

Veda Zhi Chronicles: The Crimson Hand is a middle-grade adventure story complete at 30,000 words. Fans of adventure series like The Edge Chronicles are sure to enjoy this thrilling tale filled with action, humour, and genuine heart. While this story stands alone it does have the potential to grow into a series.

I have always being a fan of the everyday kid forced into incredible circumstances. While in college I minored in English studies, including literary analysis, children’s literature, and creative writing. I have previous graphic novel and comic book work published by Ronin Studios, am currently the Vice President for the Writers’ Guild of Alberta, and recently won third place in the Collins Writing Contest (Short Story). This is my first novel.

I have included the first page of the book. May I send you the full manuscript?

Thank you,

D.A.

VEDA ZHI CHRONICLES: THE CRIMSON HAND

“Stay here,” ordered Uncle Harrison.

He was a tall man, rail thin and foul tempered. Beside him, Aunt Beatrice stalked, her arms crossed over her chest.

“This is a working farm,” she added. “Don’t go into the fields or the barns.”

Tommy and Gina had heard this speech before. Every day, in fact, for months. They sat sulking on the front steps of the two storey house, Tommy on the upper step, Gina on the lowest.

“Don’t go near the dugout.”

“Or the combines.”

“Or the tool shop.”

“And don’t even look at the storage bins,” the two adults said together.

“Understand?” demanded the man, scowling.

“Yes, Uncle Harrison,” chimed the two children.

“Just stay out of our way,” finished Aunt Beatrice.

She glared at the two children then looked over to her husband and nodded. The adults turned around and walked off to start their work, leaving Tommy and Gina to their misery.

An Agent's Inbox #3

Dear Agent Inbox,

All Annabel does is lie. To her family, her friends, herself. It’s not her fault. There’s a voice in her head--she calls him Dodge--and he tells her what to do. To steal, to hurt, to lie. Desperate, the adopted seventeen-year-old checks herself into a mental institution. She needs to get rid of Dodge, now, before he ruins her chances of a swimming scholarship, having friends, staying sane. Only Dodge is just as determined to stay as she is for him to go. 

As her doctor leads her through different therapies, and Annabel tries to navigate her relationships with the other inmates, she seems to be getting worse, not better. In regression therapy, Annabel discovers her birth father was a serial killer. She writes therapy letters to him, but they’re not supposed to be sent. Only they are, and her father writes back, telling her there’s a man called Dodge who tells him what to do. He reveals his last victim has never been discovered, and that Annabel holds the key to where she is. But to find out, she must delve into the part of her she is terrified to look at: the heart of who Dodge really is.

LETTERS TO A SERIAL KILLER is a YA contemporary written with elements of psychological suspense in a semi-epistolary style. It’s complete at 55,000 words.

The full manuscript is available at your request.

Best wishes,
F.M.

LETTERS TO A SERIAL KILLER

I am a liar.

That’s what they say. The only time I’m not is when it’s raining. It drums on the ground, pattering like footsteps. It drowns out the noise in my head, the voice that snakes in every time I’m not looking. Liar, liar, liar. You’re just what they think you are. Today it’s raining and I don’t have to listen. I settle on the wet grass, open my mouth, let the raindrops fall like drips of quiet onto my tongue.

‘You look like a drowned rat.’ Luckily, this voice isn’t the one in my head.

I keep my eyes closed, continue to soak myself. ‘Hey, Danny.’

The grass crinkles as he sits down. ‘Want a coat?’

A smile tugs the corner of my mouth.

‘Your lips are blue,’ he says.

I grin.

His rough hand takes mine and he pulls me up. I open my eyes just as he does, and it’s like the world swooshes by on a swing. I put my palms on the ground to steady myself. The sky presses grey above us, but it’s the only thing that holds me together. That, and Danny.

‘Class started already.’ He wipes strands of soaked hair from his eyes. ‘We need to get inside.’

No one else is outside on the fields today. Everyone stays away from me. I pull my knees up and wrap my arms around them. ‘I’ve got to decide today.’

His eyes glisten, but I can’t tell whether it’s the clouds overhead casting shadows, or he’s upset.

‘Don’t look at me like that.’ I get to my feet. He stands with me, oak strong and the most solid thing in my life. ‘You don’t even know if they’ll accept me yet.’

He huffs out a breath. ‘You’re right. I don’t know.’

We walk towards the school, hand in hand. The building looms like a prison. It’s full of chatter, busy students, teachers teaching. People not like me. People judging. The wind gusts its secrets past me.

An Agent's Inbox #2

Dear Agent Inbox:

Nearly eleven years ago, Maggie Mangan was born with the most powerful luck the world’s ever seen--so much so that the International Luck Council declared her the Luckiest Girl in the World. But for reasons no one can explain, Maggie’s luck soon disappeared, leaving her luckless and ordinary.

Maggie’s about to change all that. She senses her luck is buried deep inside her, and she’s desperate for it to come out. A dash will get her friends parts in the school play, while a smidge can help her brother’s grades. Plus, now that she’s old enough, she’ll be able to travel with other Luckers and help divert hurricanes, find buried treasure, and do other cool stuff to save the world.

But Maggie’s luck recovery project totally backfires, and she becomes a walking, talking, storm of doom who disperses rotten luck wherever she goes. With scientists lending little help, Maggie invents a sort-of unauthorized way to get her good luck back. Problem is, she needs help from the super show-off and incredibly annoying rules-stickler Luckiest Boy to pull it off. Worse, a new threat is rising--the Yellowstone supervolcano--that requires both of their abilities to prevent an eruption. If Maggie can’t figure out a way to work with her archenemy, not only will she have to live with a bad luck stench, but the planet may face the biggest environmental disaster yet.

Complete at 53,000 words, THE LUCKIEST GIRL IN THE WORLD is a magical realism adventure featuring a main character with the spunk and tenacity of Merida from Disney’s BRAVE in a magic-tinged world akin to that in Ingrid Law’s SAVVY. Pursuant to your submission guidelines, I've pasted the first 250 words below. Thank you for your consideration.

Sincerely,

K.L.

THE LUCKIEST GIRL IN THE WORLD

The orange glitter storm wasn’t one of my better ideas. For one, glitter’s impossible to clean up. Days later, I found specks in the strangest places, like my toothbrush and under my toenails.

What’s worse though is that the glitter bomb tipped off my parents to what I’d been up to--trying to coax the super-powerful orange luck I was born with to return. Truthfully, I couldn’t believe it took them so long to realize what I’d been doing. You’d think painting myself orange or sleeping on a bed of orange peels would have done it. But no, it took the glitter fiasco, specifically the sparkly orange flecks in the mashed potatoes, for them to figure it out. I should have expected as much. Dad loves his potatoes.

But now they knew, and they weren’t on board. At all. That’s why it was such a big deal when I entered the corner convenience store in search of supplies for my next luck recovery project. My stomach knew it too. Forget somersaults. We’re talking backflips, cartwheels, and handsprings so big my entire middle ached.

The door’s bell chimed, and I jerked a moment before ducking and scooting into an aisle. Weaving through rows of pet food, candy bars, and beef jerky, I made my way to the lucky charm display at the end of the far row.

Packages containing four-leaf clovers, horseshoes, rabbit’s feet, wishbones, ladybugs, and number 7s littered the rack. Perfect. Everything I needed for my super-scientific plan, aka Maggie Mangan’s Luck Recovery Project 12.0, was here.