Ding! Round Two!

The second round of "An Agent's Inbox" is officially underway! Entrants, please remember to critique at least three other entries. Everybody else, feel free to critique as many as you want! (In fact, you might scroll through the entries and comment on the ones that haven't gotten as much feedback, just to spread the love around.)

I'm sure the entrants are looking for any kind of feedback, but if you want to be thinking like The Agent, you could answer the question, "How much of the entry did you read, and if you didn't read it all, why did you stop?"

I'll announce the winners and the prizes on Tuesday, August 2. See you next week!

An Agent's Inbox #25

Dear Secret Agent,

During Taylor Schuman's freshman year in high school, she exposes a secret that unravels like a snagged thread on a prom dress. Taylor's crushing on her BFF's stepbrother Kyle. Though he barely speaks to them, Taylor hopes he'll ask her to homecoming. One tiny problem--Kyle has a girlfriend.

On the hunt to find the perfect outfits for Spirit Week, the girls discover Kyle's mother's obituary in the attic. It says she was in a coma for a year before she died. That's weird, because they were told Kyle's mother was killed instantly in an automobile accident. Trying to get Kyle to notice her, Taylor shows him the obituary. Tension builds, more like an explosion goes off when Kyle realizes his father lied to him. Except his father's an attorney--he wouldn't lie. A trip to the library isn't exactly the dream date Taylor envisioned, but searching for the truth reveals that Kyle's mother wasn't the only one who died in the accident. After further digging, the pair discovers the identity of the survivor from the other car, Taylor's blind next-door neighbor. Taylor is shocked to learn that she was pregnant at the time of the accident and wants to know who her child is. Taylor uncover a new secret, a hidden adoption, and confronts Kyle's father about this adoption. She knows he's lying and she has the paperwork to prove it. She must decide whether to tell the truth in order to help her neighbor find her child, at the risk of losing her friends and destroying a family, or stay silent--which Taylor isn't prone to do.

A SPECIAL SOMEONE is a young adult mystery (70,000 words), a story that deals with complex issues: death; friendship; and why do parents lie to their children? I am a member of the Society and Children's Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI).

Thank you for your time and consideration.

R.L.


A SPECIAL SOMEONE

It was my freshman year in high school when I exposed a secret that unraveled like a snagged thread on a prom dress.

“Are you sure your mother wore mini skirts?” I asked.

Malorie and I ran up the creaky staircase into her attic, a dark, traditional jumble of junk. We were on a mission to find disco outfits for Spirit Week. The 70’s were weird. I couldn’t picture my mother wearing a short skirt, too revolting, given her current uniform of black sweatpants and baggy men’s shirts.

“Taylor, I’ll take this side,” she pointed her finger across the room “and you look over there.” We started moving boxes off of boxes.

Hidden behind luggage, I found a bin filled with sporting equipment. “Cheerleading tryouts are next week,” I said, smiling down at Kyle’s old Pee Wee football helmet.

“Are you nervous?” Malorie stopped to glance at me then tucked her curls behind her ears.

“What if I don’t make it?” The unknown frightened me.

“You’ll make it.”

More than anything, I wanted to believe her. More than anything, I wanted Kyle to ask me to homecoming.

I worked my way over to the back corner and noticed a wedding dress hanging from one of the rafters. The garment’s gorgeous details shimmered in the dim light. As I pulled the gown toward me the fabric, at the bottom caught on something. I tugged carefully, trying to free the delicate material. When I lifted one side of the dress up, I discovered a large wooden trunk with brass fittings.

An Agent's Inbox #24

Dear Agent,

The last thing Kenz Grayson wants to do is switch high schools right before her senior year. Especially if it means going back to the town where she buried her family secrets, along with her father, seven years before. Unfortunately, that's exactly what her mom's making her do. With little hope for the year ahead, she goes, and watches another chapter of her life close behind her.

Everything changes when Kenz meets Lincoln James. Even though she's warned he's a total serial dater, she finds him irresistible. It doesn't take long before they're inseparable. Except that's when Kenz starts noticing just how many things are blocking her way to true happiness. Then again, with a car accident that almost kills her mom, a sexual abuse allegation against Lincoln, and the truth behind a super-secret operation in his past--she has a lot to worry about.

Kenz is well knows for choosing flight over fight. This time, will she find the strength to fight for what she really needs to be happy?

A NEW DAY is a YA contemporary romance, complete at 67,000 words. It will appeal to smart, fun readers who also enjoy books such as The Truth About Forever by Sarah Dessen and The Book of Luke by Jenny O'Connell.

Thanks so much for your consideration and I look forward to hearing your comments!

E.O.


A NEW DAY

I slammed the car door and rushed past the men putting pieces of my life into a big white truck. I didn't stop until I was right between my mom and the two movers she was leading toward our house.

"What are you doing? It isn't time yet!" I resisted the urge to climb into the truck and push my things back out. Barely.

"Not now, Kenz." We watched our couch emerge through the front door. "You have two nights left to mope around. They're only here for the big furniture right now."

"I'm not going, Mom. I hate it there and I’m not going." I crossed my arms and blinked back tears. The fact I should be embarrassed crossed my mind, but I was too pissed off to care. They weren't supposed to touch my stuff until I was ready. Definitely not today.

"We've discussed this. We're going home." She turned toward me and put one finger in the air as soon as my mouth opened. "Spend tonight with your friends. Tomorrow will be busy and we leave first thing Sunday morning. Both of us."

My original plan was to give one last rational argument for staying in Missouri until I went to college. Seeing the moving van in my driveway a day earlier than expected pushed all my rational thoughts to the side. I left without saying another word.

An Agent's Inbox #23

Dear Amazing Mystery Agent,

Since you’re generous enough to participate in Krista’s contest, and I’m sure you represent some very talented authors whose books resemble mine, I think my manuscript would be a good fit for you.

Sixteen-year-old burn victim Rissa McCall expects sand and sun when she’s shuffled off to Egypt with her little brother Andy during their mother's honeymoon. But while staying with older sister Sophie, Rissa barely has time to enjoy the luxurious resort before a man is killed and someone locks Rissa and her brother in a burning building. The only non-sucky part of the vacation is when she meets seventeen-year-old Rutgar. He ignores her scars and treats her like a ‘Normie’ (a non-burned person). At first, she’s totally psyched a hottie is interested in her, but crashes back to earth when clues point to him being the murderer.

The resort community is hiding a dark secret, but so are the McCalls--each sibling has special powers. When barracudas attack divers and dead birds fall from the sky, Rissa discovers a fabled pharaonic artifact, the Black Ankh, is behind many strange events in the seaside town. She must decide who to trust and outwit enemies who are determined to gain the Ankh's power. If she manages to find the ancient relic, she must re-bury it--unless the whispers in her head can tempt her to use it, which will damn her soul forever.

I’m seeking representation for THE BLACK ANKH, a 70,000 word YA Dark Fantasy/Mystery. I’ve traveled, worked, and lived in Egypt for the past twenty years and use these experiences to write novels set in this exotic and ancient country. I’m planning a platform site based on Egyptian lore and history. THE BLACK ANKH stands alone, but has series potential. My short stories have appeared in such publications as: Beyond Centauri, Niteblade, Spaceports and Spidersilk, and such print anthologies as: Pill Hill Press: Rotting Tales, Blood Bound Books: Rock is Dead, and Whortleberry Press: Christmas Anthology.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

Sincerely,
L.C.


THE BLACK ANKH

The Normies were staring again.

Rissa fiddled with her fork and avoided their eyes. Even in an Egyptian resort where everyone was a stranger, she was the strangest.

Music crescendoed, and she glanced up as her older sister sang a clear, high note. Beneath the spotlights, Sophie glowed like a golden-haired angel--if angels wore stilettos, mini-skirts, and showed cleavage.

Rissa’s fork banged onto the plate. She couldn’t leave until Andy came back. He was her responsibility, not Sophie’s, no matter what their mom said. Maybe he was lost again. She rose and wove between candlelit tables. The nearest guests paused between mouthfuls, so she tugged her sleeves down, hiding scarred flesh.

Dancing couples parted before her, and she hurried into the garden where crickets chirped their own romantic ballads. Ripe dates from overhanging palms lay scattered on the path. Her boot heels smashed them into the concrete. At the Red Sea Divers sign, she turned toward the restroom building, eyeing the surroundings. Her eleven-year-old brother was nowhere to be seen. How did a kid who could see the future have such a bad sense of direction?

She knocked on the men’s room door. “Andy? It’s been fifteen minutes.”

A high-pitched scream shattered the cricket concerto. She spun and searched the darkness. Sticks snapped as something blundered through the bushes opposite the bathrooms. She shrank back against the wall.

Andy burst through the hedges, his face pale. “Rissa!” He grabbed her hand, dragged her through the underbrush to a shed, and pointed through the open door.

An Agent's Inbox #22

Dear [Agent],

I was represented by the Claire Gerus Literary Agency and we recently parted ways amicably. I see that you are looking for YA sci-fi and thrillers, and I’d like to show you MANAS, complete with series potential at 75,000 words.

Zellie, a prodigy spy with pink hair and a penchant for knitting, is sent to London to acquire Oliver, a smooth hacker with geeky good looks and access to genetics firm Pyxis. Zellie’s link to the ‘Project Manas’ data, hidden within the Pyxis mainframe, sends the pair on a speeding adventure through the bowels of London’s punk underground to romantic Paris streets and murky Venice canals. Can Zellie uncover the missing pieces of ‘Project Manas’ before a rogue agent with murderous intentions catches up to her?

In addition to years of professional editing, I have extensive experience writing professionally in both traditional print and online media.

Attached below are the first 250 words, as per your request. I would be honored if you would consider representing MANAS.

Thank you for your consideration and attention,
A.P.


MANAS

“Any time you’re ready,” I whispered into my headset. “I’m a go on your signal. Of course, I’m comfortable where I am, too, if you’d like to continue taking your sweet-a** time.”

Fifty stories below me, Trey grunted. “Keep your pants on, little one. You’ll get your shot. This isn’t as easy as it looks.”

Through our camtacts--nanobot technology built into contacts--I watched Trey lunge again at the metal backdoor in the subway station. My viewer, attached to my wrist, showed four quadrants with different locations. Each contained a direct link to the rest of my team--Trey, Jace, Marienne and Emerson. Altogether, a deadly quintet.

The reception on Trey’s quadrant fuzzed as he made contact with the rusted metal. “Have you even broken a sweat?” he asked, most of his attention focused on busting down the back door into the building to use as our escape route.

“I am a sniper, not a strong-armed brute,” I said sweetly. I was teasing him, but part of me wanted action, which I wouldn’t get unless something went wrong. Such is the role of the mission lead--boring.

“Never send a woman to do a man’s job.”

“Will you two shut up? You’re interfering with my feed,” Marienne snapped. Our resident hacker, she sat in the café across the street. I watched her orange fingernails click across the laptop’s keyboard. “OK, I’m waiting at the gates of the system mainframe. Your word and I’ll get the door.”

An Agent's Inbox #21

Dear Agent,

When Andy gazes through his catcher’s mask and flashes the fastball sign to his brother during a high school baseball game, little does Andy realize it’s the last communication he’ll ever have with him.

Andy, a solid defensive catcher with a weak stick, is fortunate to have a spot on the talent-packed varsity baseball team in his senior year at a new school; whereas his younger brother, Daniel, still a junior, is the team’s ace. With his 88-mile-per-hour fastball and six-foot-two frame, Daniel has Major League scouts drooling.

Andy and Daniel share a messy bedroom, a passion for playing baseball, and a pact to always be best buds. They also share painful memories of their dysfunctional childhood. Andy, however, is the one burdened by issues, including low self-esteem and anxiety; a shaky relationship with his father; and the hideous scar covering half of his face, a result of his now-absent mother having steam-pressed his face with a clothes iron when he was a toddler.

Midseason, Andy and Daniel are trying to close out a no-hit game when a batter belts a comebacker that nails Daniel in the head. Daniel collapses on the mound. Shortly after being airlifted to the hospital, he passes away. While Andy is on a leave of absence from school--his emotions raw: grief, denial, anger, confusion, guilt, and loneliness--his team advances to the championship game. Andy is sure Daniel would have wanted him to go back to school and play in the big game. But can Andy find the strength?

BATTERY BROTHERS is a 52,000-word young adult novel with a strong sports theme. I have 12 years of experience as a professional copywriter, and my in-depth knowledge of baseball comes from my own experience as a college team player. Thank you for your consideration.

Sincerely,
S.C.


BATTERY BROTHERS

“Give the ball a ride, Andy!” Daniel rested his tall, wiry frame against the brick schoolyard wall.

I assumed a batting stance--knees slightly bent, knuckles aligned, right elbow cocked, eyes glued on Jason Huckabee, the pitcher.

Jason spit on the blacktop and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Jason was about six foot, stocky. Me, I was just a regular-sized seventeen-year-old.

I twirled the stickball bat, my breath clouding in front of my face.

Jason planted his gorilla-sized sneakers on the chalk-drawn pitcher’s line. “Two down. Nobody on. Seven to three--good guys.”

“Bring it,” I muttered. A gust of wind slapped the scarred side of my face, making my left eye twitch.

If Daniel had been pitching in today’s two-on-two, brothers vs. brothers stickball game, our cousins Jason and Nathan wouldn’t have any runs. No bull. Daniel’s 88 mile-per-hour heat would have done the job. But Daniel doesn’t pitch tennis balls. Not anymore. Not after being tagged a phenom and scouted by the pros. The risk of him throwing out his holier-than-holy arm at the age of sixteen was too great.

Jason wound up, a herky-jerky motion. The pitch smoked in high and tight, forcing me to backpedal.

“In the box?” I asked, grinning at him.

“Just missed,” Jason said, scooping up the rebounding ball. The pitcher, having the best view of the 32-by-24-inch box sprayed on the wall, got final say on balls and strikes.

An Agent's Inbox #20

Dr. Agent Inbox:

In a post-apocalyptic world, Azure Lane starts her first day as an instructor at the mandated school. But the dark secret that permeates through Room 0 doesn’t take long to rear its ugly head. And it’s only the beginning. Of the worst school year ever.

THE NEW BREED, a 50,000 word count YA horror novel, twists into the dark realm of YA when Azure realizes that if the students don’t perform up to standard, they are disposed of. Literally.

But there is no way in h*** that she is just going to stand by and watch the peril unfold. She came to fight. Yet, her misguided attempts at heroism become a tangled web of right and wrong. Because, let’s be honest, sometimes it gets a bit muddled in there, especially when immediate death is an option.

I thank you for considering my creation. The complete manuscript anxiously awaits your call.

Best Regards,
T.N.


THE NEW BREED

Across from the schoolhouse, Lyla and Ingrid step out of the Red Line onto Landing E. Her baby is in a bright teal dress with curling white ribbons that loop in the back. Her dark brown hair is pulled back in braids that mimic the ribbons and form a perfect bow.

To the right, the door to Landing F slides open and Sloane and Kieran file out. She dressed him in an argyle sweater vest with a cream pinstripe underneath. I smile at Sloane. Kieran grins back a toothy smile, with big rosy cheeks. I’m sure Sloane added a little rouge to get that glow, but I won’t give up her secret.

“Kieran looks great.”

“Thanks. I was going for professional, yet playful.”

“Well, frankly, you nailed it. But did you see Lyla’s baby? In the teal with the ribbons?”

Sloane looks straight over to where Lyla and Ingrid are awkwardly working out the inevitable.

“Oh, wow. She looks awesome.”

“I know, perfect.” I let my eyes linger a quick second. Maybe I could do Roe’s hair like that.

“Well, let me see you Little Miss Thing. Now where could she be? Roe? Roe? Where is my dazzling Roe?”

Roe can barely see her from underneath her exaggerated striped hat, but it was just too cute to pass up. Her little hand curls around my finger. She beams up at Sloane.

An Agent's Inbox #19

Dear Agent,

Seventeen-year-old London Howell is stunned when the girl he finds rummaging through his closet claims he "created" her. But before he can get her to the police, he's confronted by the House of Dering. As the city’s ruling family, the Derings maintain the order and secrecy of the city’s magi. London learns that he's a magus, and the only way to determine how he created the girl is to find a sieve, someone who can siphon magic and reveal his abilities. Sounds great, except sieves aren't listed in the Yellow Pages, and London's not interested in leaving his ailing dad to chase fairy tales. That is, until his dad goes missing.

A magus' power lies in his soul, which can be ripped free and harnessed as a weapon, and the Derings aren't the only ones who think London's got one h*** of an arsenal. With his dad abducted by an unknown enemy, London must accept the help of the Derings, including Abby, the beautiful but exasperating Dering princess with a penchant for kicking him.

Saving his dad means uncovering where the girl came from and what, exactly, London is, but as the search for answers grows desperate, he begins to question whether the Derings are his protectors or his captors. Add to that the fact his dad's been keeping some pretty serious secrets, and London has no idea whom to trust. Now, he must piece together the truth before he loses not only his dad, but his soul as well.

SOUL WITHOUT A BOY is complete at 80,000 words and is set in modern-day England. Its opening pages placed as a finalist in the YA category of Wisconsin Romance Writers of America Fabulous Five contest. My short fiction has been published in Daily Science Fiction, and I have a degree in Creative Writing from the University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire.

Sincerely,
M.L.


SOUL WITHOUT A BOY

On his thirteenth lap around the block, London Howell spotted the monster watching him. It was crouched against the wooden post of a neighbor's mailbox, little more than a shadow with large-knuckled fingers that raked at empty air.

London stifled a groan. Sprinting through his neighborhood at midnight was annoying enough without an unwanted audience. He stopped to catch his breath beneath a lamppost, his hand braced against the cool iron.

The monster across the street moved, shifting on spindly legs that trembled like branches in a storm. Its eyes glowed in the dim evening.

London had learned that if he ignored the monsters hard enough, eventually, they went away. Didn't help his doubts about his sanity, but at least it had worked. But they'd been showing up more frequently in recent weeks, and the watching-him thing was new. Pretending something wasn't there was a lot harder when it was staring at him.

His mobile vibrated in his back pocket and, with a glance at the screen, he picked up.

"You sound like a goat on the rack," Amun said in greeting.

"How," London asked between breaths, "do you know what a tortured goat sounds like?" He shook out his legs, but it didn't help. Even running for three miles hadn't burned off the energy. Great. He considered just rolling into a ditch and letting the monsters have their way with his bones. Or whatever it was they wanted.

"Animal Sacrifices Hour. Wednesday nights at eight. Bring your own blood bucket."

"Brilliant mental image. Thanks."