An Agent's Inbox #19

Dear Mrs. Testerman,

Suburban teen Sophie MacNeil only wants two things in life: to dance and to visit Paris--her secretive mother’s hometown. When Sophie finally gets an offer to spend the summer in the City of Light, she leaps at the chance. Once there, however, a strange woman attempts to steal Sophie’s mother’s gold medallion, triggering an impossible journey backward in time.

Now in 1895, Sophie is mistaken for Rachel Lazare, the daughter of an affluent Jewish family. In addition to a roof over her head and quiche in her belly, living temporarily as Rachel has perks, like meeting the handsome and passionate Alexandre, the intended fiancé for Rachel’s older sister.

The strange woman succeeds in stealing Sophie’s mysterious heirloom, threatening Sophie’s comfortable life with the Lazares. Sophie must retrieve her medallion and unlock its secrets before her affection for Alexandre destroys the life of a friend from her own time and permanently changes her future.

SOPHIE is a young adult manuscript complete at 68,000 words. While SOPHIE can stand alone, it is the first in a planned trilogy that will follow the women of Sophie’s family in reverse chronology.

I was recently commissioned to write a non-fiction book for a leveled reader program. A member of SCBWI, I am also a French teacher and an avid traveler. I studied in Paris during college, and focused on 19th century French literature.

Thank you for your time and consideration. I have pasted the first 250 words below.

V.T.

SOPHIE

I fall out of the darkness and my feet slam onto the pavement. My ankles fail and I cry out in pain and surprise.

I squint at the lights shining from streetlamps and rushing cars. Music blasts, car horns blare, people talk, laugh, sing. I touch my temple and groan. Everything is too much.

“Est-ce que tout va bien, mademoiselle? Avez-vous besoin d'aide?” a man asks, kneeling at my side.

Why is he speaking French? Is everything okay, as he asked? My whole body hurts, but especially my ankle. I can’t remember how I got here, or where here is.

I check out my surroundings and recognize the plaza hemmed in by five- and six-storey buildings sporting arched windows, dominated by a building with more columns than I can count, winged gold statues at each corner of the roof, and a green dome. Two French flags billow in the still air. The Paris Opera.

Okay, deep breaths. I’m in Paris. Mom's birthplace.

My head feels stuffed with feathers and it only gets worse the more I try to remember. I frown at the long, dark skirt I’m wearing. Pointy-toed black ankle boots? No wonder my ankle is weak and swollen. A long-sleeved cream shirt scratches my neck. What happened to my shorts and flip flops?

I stand, vaguely wondering where my good samaritan went, when a necklace bounces against my chest. I grab the gold medallion and stare at the engraved pattern. Memories blast into me, pushing out the feathers stuffing my mind.